#how bout some commotion for the engagement hug?

[klainegifs]

[jishyucks]

The L Word ‣ hjs

‣ genre: angst with a fluffy ending, arranged marriage, sort of modern royalty (rich kid!au), female reader

‣ wc: 2.1k

‣ summary: “Tell me, Han. Has she ever explicitly told you that she loved you?”; in which Jisung's afraid that Y/N's going to leave him in rising of rumors but learns he shouldn't judge a situation from the words of others

‣ warnings?: The Hwang 'sibs' are mean in this (just a bit), lowkey rushed, jisung runs off because of overthinking

Looking at the ballroom’s appearance, Jisung feels as though he shouldn’t even be there in the first place. Like some puzzle piece placed in the wrong box. The people attending the party lived lavish lifestyles, knowing the difference between the different forks placed at the tables. Etiquette was more important to them than the basics a middle-class person would even care about.

Though Jisung had good ideas of such subjects, it wasn't forced onto him like those around him. The only reason why he was able to attend the party was because of a marriage arrangement your father and his father had made as some kind of sick ‘contract’ regarding business. Though he wasn’t complaining, feelings for you developed through the years of knowing you since childhood, he couldn’t help but feel self-conscious about a handful of things.

For one, you guys were engaged through the arrangement. It’s been three years since the announcement, and even if Jisung believed you were fine with it, even if you ensured to Jisung that you were happy with the engagement, intrusive thoughts started keeping him up at night.

He knew you. You hated speaking out your feelings, whether it led to consequences or not. What if you actually weren’t fine with it? What if you were somehow threatened by your father and the contract to actually speak out about the engagement? He didn’t want you to feel forced to marry him.

Then there was his family’s reputation. His family was deemed drastically poorer than yours by the other associated families and businesses. He was afraid of tainting your family’s reputation or seeming like one of those leeches found at the bottom of murky ponds. Though it was an arranged marriage, Jisung had genuine feelings for you. It was his father that was in it for the money and Jisung was nothing like his father.

“Hey, scrounger!” Jisung turned to find Hyunjin and his sister Yeji approaching him from the opposite corner of the room. They both were dressed in clothes that were probably a lot more expensive than his own, his clothes being hand-me-downs from his father.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Yeji smirked, “You don’t even have business here.” She shifted her weight from one leg to the other, eyeing down the boy.

Jisung didn’t cower under their gaze, instead of straightening his back, “I’m here because I was invited. My father was invited as well.” Don’t show fear, he told himself, That’s what they want.

“Ahh~,” Hyunjin chuckled, “Good way to disguise 'because of Y/N.' Tell me, Han. Has Y/N ever explicitly told you that she loved you?”

Yeji butted in, laughing, “I think love is too strong of a word… how ‘bout like? Has she ever told you that she liked you? Cause rumor has it she’s planning on breaking your engagement.”

Jisung gulped, “S-she has… and gossip is bullshit.” He lied. When the arrangement was created, there was some kind of unspoken assumption that you both liked each other. As a result of this, no confessions were made from you both. Sure it was stupid, but in Jisung’s eyes, actions spoke louder than words, and just by how he treated you and you treated him, you both cared very much for each other. Of course, other people never paid attention to actions and relied on direct statements.

“We don’t gossip, Han,” Hyunjin scoffs, “Who would pass up the opportunity to marry Bang Chan when he’s the son of the top businessman in all of Korea?”

“What do you mean?” Jisung’s heart skipped a beat, eyed widening slightly at the mention of Bang Chan’s name.

“His father apparently wanted to create a deal with her father that was a lot better than his deal with yours,” Hyunjin explained, “Isn’t your engagement part of that poorer deal?”

Jisung chose not to reply, biting his tongue. Instead, he shoots Hyunjin a narrowed glare, not up for defending himself or arguing. With the lack of response from their target, the siblings simply rolled their eyes and walked away, taking a seat at their designated table.

When the attention was diverted away from him, Jisung couldn’t help but let his shoulders fall. He feels his heart beating quicker than at rest, thoughts running through his mind like crazy. You wouldn’t leave him just like that right? You wouldn’t.

Then his mind wanders back to Hyunjin and Yeji’s question. Yes, he did think that actions were undoubtedly stronger than words, but now that a spotlight was shone on the hidden yet obvious fact that you both hadn’t said anything about each others’ feelings, he couldn’t help but believe that you could possibly be leaving him. But then again, he has never said anything to you and his feelings existed.

He felt the sudden urge to look for you, who had been busy accompanying your father with the guests. Maybe he will actually confess how he truly felt, just in case you were actually thinking about breaking the engagement. Maybe he could save it somehow, just in case your father was willing to make the deal with Mr. Bang.

Chewing the bottom of his lip, he scanned the room, looking for the lavender dress you were wearing. But with the clumps of people, his line of sight was constantly stopped abruptly.

“Excuse me,” he mumbled politely, making his way through the crowd, “Excuse me.” He ignored the looks some people gave him, still slithering his way between the socializing people. Though his hair was parted in a way that exposed part of his forehead, he felt the need to hide under his bangs, keeping his head low as he did.

The familiar sound of your father’s laugh drove Jisung to stop and look around his area. If he was close, you’d be close. Scanning his surroundings completely, he finally spots your father, with you standing close beside him. He feels a smile rise on his lips as he begins to make his way towards you both, heartbeat racing just as his thoughts were.

Opening his mouth to call out for you, he quickly stops himself when he realizes that you and your father were holding a conversation with Bang Chan and his own father. His feet abruptly stop, allowing him to overhear the exchange of banter.

“Well, it was a pleasure having this conversation with you,” Mr. Bang chuckled, “I will see you on Monday for the papers?” He held a hand out for a handshake, a smile filled with pride appearing on his lips.

Your father nodded, “Likewise. I’m looking forward to it.” He completes the handshake, which then queues for Chan to lean in for a hug.

Shit, Jisung gulps, feeling his heart drop to his stomach, What the hell just happened?

You take a step forward and hug Chan back for a brief second before pulling back, “I hope you enjoy the rest of your time here, Chan.”

Chan’s dimples appeared as he smiled genuinely, “Thank you, Y/N.”

Jisung was frozen on the spot, unsure whether or not he should say anything. The notes that he had mentally jotted down in his head were suddenly ripped into pieces and he was practically speechless.

Obliviously, you turn to follow your father, who was already ready to move on to another conversation. Mid-turn, the boy dressed in a striped, navy suit had caught your attention, giving him a double-take, “Oh! Jisung!” The corners of your mouth rise higher, eyes lighting up at the sight of the familiar boy. A wave of comfort washed over you. It was refreshing to see him after interacting with so many strangers and acquaintances.

When you go to approach him, Jisung panics and begins to back into the people behind him. It was then you noticed the look of distraught on his face, causing you to speed up. At this, he turns and runs, causing commotion around him as dodges those who got in his way.

“Jisung!” You called out, turning the heads of those people around you. The music had drowned your voice out from those further away from you, “Jisung!?” You begin making your way through the crowd of people, going as fast as you could in heels so that you wouldn’t lose Jisung. A million assumptions were running through your head, worry lining each and every one of them.

Swinging the door open, Jisung finds himself stumbling out into the empty corridor of the hotel. With the choice of left and right, Jisung stops and impulsively runs in one direction, not minding where he would end up if kept running.

So you were going to break the engagement… without warning? How were you going to break the news to him? How was he supposed to react once you told him about it all? Happy? Sad? Excited?

You finally reached the door of the ballroom, slipping out rather roughly into the corridor. Your head whips left and right, seeing Jisung’s trailing feet to the right of the hallway, turning the corner. You let out a heavy breath before kicking off your heels, booking it in that direction.

Your mind wanders to why Jisung was running. What did he hear? Was he okay? Could it be what other people were saying again? But Jisung was never usually one to let words get to him.

Jisung lets himself rest once he gets to a secluded room. Judging by its content, he realized that he managed to slip into the coatroom, but he didn’t care. He needed time alone to think. He just needed to process this entire situation.

“Jisung?” He hears you call out. Jisung sinks down at the corner of the room, resting his head against the wall. He stays quiet, resting his forehead against his knees.

The door to the coat room opens, revealing your disheveled figure, “Jisung…” You pause and try to catch your breath, “There… there you are.”

Jisung doesn’t lift his head, afraid that if he did face you, he would burst into tears. He could sense you approaching him, though, settling down beside him. He could feel your dress up against him. Soon he feels your hand take his, holding it tightly.

“What’s wrong?”

When Jisung doesn’t answer, you don’t say anything to push out an explanation. You let the question simmer, resting your head against his shoulder.

At this point, Jisung’s mind was projecting none of his thoughts but static. He didn’t know where to start and what to bring up. How was he supposed to confront you about the engagement?

“I’m happy for you two,” Jisung blurted out quietly, avoiding eye contact, “I really am.” Your ears perked up, confused at what Jisung was going on about.

“I think people will like you both together more than us,” Jisung continued, “Just know that I lo–“

You interrupt him, turning to completely face him, “Jisung, what are you talking about?” You turned your body towards him, completely facing the cowered boy. Though your body language was practically begging for eye contact, Jisung still avoided it, playing with his rings to keep him from losing control over his emotions.

Building up his confidence, Jisung let himself look at you before whispering, “Y/N?” He sniffled quietly.

“Yeah, Sung?”

Jisung gulped and asked, “Do you like me?”

You’re taken aback by the question, not expecting it out of all the questions Jisung could have asked. Is this why he was crying?

“Of course I do, Jisung, what makes you thin–“

“I mean genuinely like me. Do you have feelings for me?” Words were spewing out of his mouth before he could even process what he was saying. He could feel his emotions taking control of himself, which often is never a good thing.

“Jisung, I love you, okay? Why do you think otherwise?” The beat of your heart sped up with worry. Your eyebrows knitted together in concern as Jisung’s lips quivered slightly.

“The Hwang's told me you were planning on breaking our engagement because Bang Chan’s father offered a better deal than my father,” he explained quietly. He felt as though that if he spoke any louder, he would break out into tears, “I told them I didn’t believe them… t-then they asked me if you’ve ever told me if you did have feelings for me. I just didn’t know what to think when… when I saw your father accept Mr. Bang’s deal. I was afraid you were actually going to leave me.”

You gently slapped his shoulder in shock, “Han Jisung, are you serious?” Jisung responded wordlessly, though a puzzled look replaced his previous emotion.

“My father approached me beforehand about it. He wanted to break our engagement because of the deal, telling me that it was no longer necessary,” you say, “But I told him I wanted to marry you because I love you, Sung. And if he did threaten to forcibly break our engagement, I would’ve fought for us.”

Jisung wanted to laugh at himself at how much he had overreacted. Overthinking was a bitch and this situation was real-life proof, “Y/N?”

“Yeah, Sung?”

“I would fight for us too.”

[deexchanel]

little girl in a box.

word count:

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x BlackFem!Reader

Warning: Swearing, mention of killing😬.

Summary: Bucky and Y/N comes home from their date to find a sweetheart in a box.

A/N: this haven't been my week so im using fanfiction to be a distraction.

Y/N and Bucky walked up the stairs to their apartment in Bucharest. They were holding hands, engaged in a conversation.

"I was thinking, what if I made shrimp alfredo?" Y/N asked as their hands sway back and forth. Bucky looked at her confused.

"What's alfredo?"

"Oh my god, you never had it before?"

"I mean in the army they boiled everything. It wasn't really lavish."

"Everything boiled sound so nasty."

"I know right but I managed. What's going to be in it?"

"Shrimp and pasta with Alfredo sauce. I think you're going to love it!"

"That's fine with me babe, as long as it isn't soup."

"Same." Y/N laughed letting go of his hand so she could unlock the door. Normally they would go through the window. But just for one night, they didn't want to be paranoid. Just to have one normal night.

Bucky stopped in his tracks staring at a medium size box that had big holes poked in it. "Y/N were you expecting something?"

"No." Y/N with hesitation getting worried that this might a setup. Bucky pulled her behind him protectively then proceeded to nudge open the box. The box top fell off and a pair of brown doe eyes stared back at them. Bucky hardened face expression soften as he saw a beautiful little girl in the box.

Whoever left this beautiful child in the box was a horrible person in general. The little girl sat up looking at the couple nervously. Bucky squat down so they could be eye level.

"Hi princess... I'm Bucky and that's my girlfriend Y/N. Would you like to tell me your name?" Bucky said softly then pointed at Y/N who waved giving a toothless smile. It was like Bucky's dad instincts kicked in as he felt the need to protect the little girl any way he could.

She shook her head as a way of saying she didn't want to talk. Her body was skinny seeming that she haven't ate in a couple of days. She looked no older then 4. Y/N squat down to help ease her nerves.

"How about we go in and get you something to eat?"

The little girl looked at Y/N scaredly and instantly held her arms out for Bucky. Y/N sigh knowing that whatever happened in this girl past, she was scared of women she didn't trust. Bucky picked her up gently not wanted to hurt her with his arm.

They walked into the apartment and Y/N quickly started to prepare dinner. Bucky sat on the bed while the little girl sat on the side of them. He tries to start conversation again with her.

"Can you tell me your name now?"

The little girl looked around before speaking softly,"Melanie.."

The pair looked at each otherin shock, he got her to talk. There wasn't any technology in the room so they best way to stay entertained was to have conversation.

"Well Melanie how old are you?" Bucky questioned.

"Five." She said but held up three fingers making Bucky smile in amusement. He helped her by raising up another finger.

"How old are you?"

Y/N giggled while fixing their bowls. Nobody have ever asked him that. Bucky laughed since its been a long time since someone asked him that.

"Well doll, I'm 106."

Melanie made a funny face turning her head to the side. Y/N came over with three bowls in her hands. Bucky grabbed the bowls passing one to Melanie, while holding the other ones as Y/N sat down so she wouldn't spill it.

"Can I eat all of it? I've been good all week." Melanie moved some of her hair from her face with a a sadden expression. Y/N felt so bad for her, this wasn't right.

"Baby you can eat all it. I can make more if you want some okay?"

"Okay." Melanie smiled digging in her food. Bucky and Y/N shared a look. He was angry that she went through horrible things at a young age.

After dinner, Bucky washed and put the dishes away while Y/N laid down on the mattress. Melanie kept picking her head up to see if Bucky was coming.

"He's coming honey, he's washing dishes."Y/N laughed softly realizing what she was doing. "You tired?"

Melanie shook her head, rubbing her eyes,"No."

"Yes you are. Come here?" Y/N asked nicely but Melanie poked out her lip. She was sitting in the middle of the mattress near Y/N's knees.

"Noo, I'm waiting on Bucky."

"Here I am princess." Bucky grunt getting on his knees behind her. Melanie looked happy as he picked her up, walking on his knees to get to this spot on the mattress. Y/N laid on her side, watching them in admiration. 

Melanie was very brave and didn't take long getting used to the couple. Food was a way to her heart so the trust came quickly. She was snuggled between Bucky and Y/N while they cuddled her enjoying their sleep.

-----------

2:48 a.m.

People smashing through the apartment windows starled them awoke. Before Bucky could reach for his gun, a man punched him in the face. Y/N quickly grabbed Melanie holding her into her chest then gets up grabbing the emergency bookbag.

The couple agreed that if this was to happen then find the best way out possible. They would find each other no matter how far away they was. Bucky did one on one combat with the man that broke in.

"GO Y/N!"

She nodded rushing to the door making sure to keep a good grip on Melanie. When she opened the door a man stood their with a gun pointed directly at her head. Melanie start to cry with all the commotion going on. Tears start to fall out of Y/N's eyes, thinking this was it.

"Go back in now or I won't hesitate putting one between your eyes." The man sneered putting the cold gun on her forehead. Y/N turned around going back into the apartment. Bucky closed his eyes trying not to lose it as he saw his family being held at gun point.  He was being held at gun point as well but he was hoping that his girls was able to get away.

"So Winter Soldier, you really thought you could get away." A man laughed turning on a light revealing his face. It was Rumlow holding Bucky at gun point and the man that held Y/N at gun point was Pierce. Bucky chest heaved up and down as he was getting angrier.

Melanie little face was turning red from how hard she was crying. Pierce rapidly pointed another gun in his other hand at Melanie's little forehead.

"NO!"Bucky jumped forward but Rumlow put the gun on his forehead making him stop. Pierce took the gun off safety pressing it harder on Melanie's forehead which makes Y/N sob harder.

"Shut the little brat up!"

"Melanie baby, stop... stop crying we're okay. Bucky's okay." Y/N lied hoping she was to stop crying. Melanie cries turns into sniffles looking at Y/N hopefully.

Y/N nod her head crying,"We're okay baby."

Bucky felt like he let his girls down. He was so angry that he wanted to kill both of them but he couldn't move. "I'll go back and do whatever. Just p-please leave my family out of this."

"That's what I wanted to hear! Cuff him!" Pierce exclaimed letting the guns drop from Y/N and Melanie. Y/N shook her head not wanting Bucky to leave and endure all the things they worked so hard for him to forget.

"Bucky no!”

"Shut it bitch!" Pierce snapped at her holding the gun to her head again making her jump. It was killing Bucky for not being able to help.

"I'm sorry Y/N. I love you." Bucky sigh putting his arms behind his back so Rumlow could cuff him. As Rumlow did, Redwing flew in dropping a disk on Pierce's forehead electrocuting him. Sending him unconscious.

Bucky ducked as Rumlow shot the gun towards him making the girls scream. Sam flew in the window taking out the extra gaurd that stood by the refrigerator. Bucky stood up swiftly so he could take out Rumlow.

He smirked aiming the gun towards the girls," I guess nobody's getting what they want." Rumlow shot the gun at the girls. Y/N used her body to shield Melanie. Bucky stared in horror as he tried to get to them but Steve's shield covered them from the bullets.

Bucky turned around angrily at Rumlow pulling out the secret gun that was in his  waist holster. With no hesitation, Bucky shoots him between the eyes. Rumlow body fell to the ground.

Y/N came from behind Steve's large frame. She walked over to Bucky and pulled him into a hug without crushing Melanie's little body. Bucky rubbed his hand through Y/N hair and kissed Melanie's forehead. They didn't have anything to say, they were just grateful to all be alive.

"I'm so sorry to ruin this moment guys but we need to go. Their supposed to be bringing in reinforcements any second." Steve said placing his shield on his back.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y. bring the jet back around." Sam pressed his finger on the com.

--------------------

On the jet, it was quiet but peaceful time for them to rejuvenate. Bucky couldn't sleep so he watched over his girls who were sleeping.

Melanie slept on his chest with his metal arm holding her up so her face could implant into his neck. Y/N was cuddled up with his arm wrapped around her. He kissed their foreheads every other second for his comfort.

"Thank you guys." Bucky said to Sam and Steve who were sitting in the in the front seats of quinjet.

"Just gald you guys are safe." Steve pat his hand on Bucky's shoulder.

"Plus we were able to kill two birds with one stone. Bonus but glad we could help."Sam said making Bucky smiled. He looked at his girls, very content with life.

------------

horrible writing.

I wrote this bout a year ago. I don't like it, but i just needed it as a distraction.

stay slutty my friends

[stonecoldjerseyfox]

Jersey on my mind (part 41)

This was not part of the plan. It wouldn’t go like this. This was not the plan. It was a solid plan. Well, at least that’s what it sounded like and felt like. Mila repeats the phrases inside her head, like a mantra, while the raspy voice, the female voice, repeats what she just said.

“As I said, We’ve got Carol and Maggie. You wanna talk about that?”

36 hours earlier:

Wrapped in the dark, they made their way through the deserted streets of Alexandria, hand in hand. She followed him almost blindly, on her way to unknown targets. What was he up to? 

“Where are we going?” Mila chuckled faintly and squeezed Daryl’s hand. “Come on, please, tell me.” 

Her curiosity had skyrocketed since he, somewhat mysteriously, told her that he ‘knew a place’; she was still distraught after what had probably, in Daryl’s peculiar way, been a courtship. Or a direct marriage there and then, none of them seemed to have any idea about what exactly. To hell with formalities! She wore a diamond ring worth like 20 000 bucks on her ring finger, secured with the dainty, less vulgar ring she got from Jim and felt over the moon with emotions. Her heart felt too big for her chest. She woke up from her euphoric state as they stopped in front of the row of neat, almost newly built townhouses. Homes that never got to be put on the market, which was never open to speculators willing to pay thousands of dollars to live there.

“What are we doing here?” She asked. But the familiar silence repeated and she didn’t get a verbal answer. Her laconic, now fiancé took her up the stairs to the house that wasn’t inhabited by anyone and Mila followed in tow. “Daryl, come on!” Mila repeated as the front door shut behind them, leaving them standing in solid darkness.  

“Fu- just-” Despite the fact that it was almost pitch black, Mila could sense how Daryl tightened his jaw, struggling to stay calm; not because of her curiosity and questions, but because he was trying to stay calm. A forced calm concealing something completely different. Inside he was probably an emotional disaster. “Come on-” He squeezed Mila’s hand and started to walk up the almost brand new stairs with white painted railing. Not that she could see it, but she made an assumption that this house wasn’t too different from its adjacent neighbors, where she had visited before. “Don’t fall.”

They stopped on the first landing and Daryl released his firm, yet tender grip around her hand. When one mind is turned off, the others are triggered, but Mila couldn’t hear a sound. It was very quiet, except for their footsteps.

“Stay here.” He instructed her. “Close ye’re eyes.”

Mila laughed a little. “It’s pitch dark, I can barely see you.”

“Just, goddamn- shut ya’ eyes, woman.” 

“Jeeeez Louise-” Mila sighed, shut her eyes and grinned. “Watch out, Dixon, I still have the right to withdraw.” 

Her cheeky joke was answered with a light flick on the nose, followed by a kiss before she heard Daryl steps disappear into another room. What was he doing? Where was he going? Although curiosity almost rose to her throat, Mila did her best not to peek; open one eye and see what the hell Daryl was up to. Instead, she continued to close her eyes, spun the slightly oversized ring around her finger, and quickly realized that spinning would become a recurring coping mechanism for all kinds of emotional states.  

The steps got closer again and she felt the big hand close around hers. 

“Come.” Daryl said. “Don’t look.”

“Okay.”

One step turned into eleven stippling steps, in fear of falling flat on her face and getting even more bruised, before they haltered again. 

“Ya’ can look.” Daryl said and cleared his throat somewhat. “See.”

Mila did as she was told to, blinked as her eyes adjusted to the light. It wasn’t a bright light, but a soft, flickering light from a dozen candles placed around the house’s master bedroom. It wasn’t fully furnished yet, as if it was left half done. There was a bed covered with a big sheet for protection from paint, some other furniture, a mirror and curtains, but the wooden folding ladder used to paint the upper cornice was left behind along with paint cans and brushes. A stack of moving boxes stood next to the decorative fireplace mantle and two armchairs were covered with sheets. 

“It ain’t much…” Daryl said doubtfully. 

Mila and Jim never came to the part of having their dream wedding, nor their dream honeymoon. Of course they’d talked about it, that was almost more important than the wedding; where would they go, just the two of them? Mila wanted to go to Rome, or Montana. Jim wanted to go somewhere where they could eat great food, drink great wine and go sightseeing. They finally settled on going to Italy and renting a car there; That way they could visit Rome, Florence and Naples. Watch football, eat pizza, drink wine, authentic cappuccino (Jim was after all a passionate coffee connoisseur) and go sightseeing in an historic environment. The candlelit bedroom in the abandoned townhouse wasn’t exactly a bridal suite at The Palazzo Manfredi with expensive wine and whatnot, but it still made her heart skip a beat. It was thoughtful, romantic in all its simplicity and probably improvised. Where had he found all those candles in a hurry? She never got the chance to ask, it wasn’t important.

“It’s amazing.” Mila managed to utter. Screw Italy!

To further convince Daryl he’d succeeded in his attempt to surprise her, Mila began to kiss him softly. Their breaths in between the soft, tender kisses soon turned heavier, more strenuous as they started to back up towards the bed.

“I want you.” Mila gasped in the matter of seconds that her lips weren’t glued to Daryl’s. “I want you so, so badly.”

Her pleading, that could almost be likened to an appeal, didn’t need to be repeated. Through the darkness she could see the tall archer’s eyes twinkle in the vague glow of the candles. So soft, maybe softer than she’d ever seen then before, at the same time dark with pure, brutish desire. But for perhaps the first time, they didn’t have to deal with lack of time, that someone could hear them or walkers that could suddenly stumble into the room in the middle of the act. For the first time, they had time on their side. And they took advantage of it 110%. Mila felt like her entire body and mind was on fire, like her nerves had reached new levels of feeling things. She had read somewhere that an increased perception of all senses was one of the effects of LSD, but right there and then, welded together with Daryl, whom she wanted even deeper and deeper inside of her to fill her up to her throat, it was clear to her that this was way better than any drug there was. Ecstasy in its rawest, purest form -the caveman stage- triggered by the slowly, sometimes far to near and yet so incredibly close increasing orgasm that built up inside of her body. She came once, then twice, might just as well have been thrice. When Mila last perceived her surroundings, right before both of them fell asleep wrapped up in the sheet, it was early dawn. 

The news about their eloping, or betrothal or whatever it was, was met with surprised delight by the others. As soon as they set foot inside the front door of the big house, where they were greeted by an ongoing breakfast, Carol narrowed her eyes and examined them closely, whereupon the sharp eyes landed on the flashy, magnetic diamond ring. An astronaut stranded on the International Space Station would probably be able to notice it sparkling. 

“Wha- you-” Carol gaped and rose from the table. “Oh my goodness!”

Carol’s reaction was followed by commotion. Everyone arose from the breakfast table and smoldered them with back pats, congratulations and hugs.

“Gratulations, Jersey.” Abraham said while embracing her. When he let go of Mila, after placing a bearded kiss on her cheek, she saw him turn to Daryl, low-key saying: “Thought ‘bout settlin’ down after all, huh?” He then gave Daryl a hearty pat on the shoulder. “About damn time!”

Someone that also was over the moon with joy was Juri; he ran around their legs and quietly participated in the celebration while tugging on his pajama pants, hugging their legs. Excited beyond measure, he gesticulated with his small soft hands that he now, finally, had a dad. 

“Consider yourself a daddy from now on.” Mila whispered to Daryl in passing. To be fair, Juri had considered Daryl as a substitute-daddy for quite some time, before Mila dreamed about doing the dirty with him. “Welcome to the family.” 

The ever so quiet, simple breakfast quickly turned into an engagement-marriage-thing party, to the extent that they managed to conjure a bottle of cheap prosecco from a cupboard. Rick distributed the bottle in the drinking glasses and together they swept their fair but frugal part of the bubbly beverage. The rest of the day was spent coordinating the attack against the Saviors’ compound with help from Andy from the Hilltop colony, at least in Rick, Michonne, Daryl, Glenn and Maggie’s case. Mila was once again struck by tiredness, fatigue almost, and withdrew to inventory the weapons stockpile in the armory with Carol and Eugene. Among other things, Mila was told that “things were over and out” between Abe and Rosita, according to Eugene. 

“Yup, they’re done. Finito.” He said and dramatically cut through the air with his hand.  

While Eugene and Mila talked about the latest romantic drama of the apocalypse, Carol sat deep in thought, sometimes muttering about Rick’s decision to let Maggie come with her.

“He should know better.” She said as she moved around cartons of ammunition. 

Mila knew that Carol was deeply concerned and she didn’t blame her. It wasn’t just Maggie’s life that was on the stake. She was, after all, pregnant; a transformative, slightly chaotic incident in itself, under the prevailing circumstances. At the same time Mila didn’t blame Maggie for wanting to participate. Had she been pregnant Mila would have done the same. The slightest pet with her and she had been pissed off. She was a grown up woman who could make her own decisions, as was Maggie. Therefore, Mila didn’t say much about the matter, focused on the inventory and her lingering, to say the least annoying fatigue that didn’t go away. Carol, the woman with the sharpest sight still alive after the outbreak, couldn’t fail to see that something was wrong.

“No wonder you’re weary all the time.” Carol said as she shook her head towards Mila. “You’re eating like a medieval peasant, all seeds, grains and blant oatmeal.”

“A big bird then.” Mila replied perky, to take her beloved breakfast oatmeal in defense. “I’ve survived so far, which is more than twenty years.” 

When every little bullet was counted and every weapon inspected, they left the weapons store. They returned to the house, where the planning of the attack was wrapping up. Some question marks hadn’t been solved during the long-spun coordination that was spread over the large dining table; they had no idea what would meet them at the compound. How many men did the Saviors have? They simply had to be prepared to encounter both two and a dozen, a preparation that outwardly seemed easier to relate to than it was in fact to relate to mentally. The uncertainty, the total uncertainty; like running straight into thick fog, not knowing what was on the other side. A cliff, a horde of angry bulls or a wall of rifle barrels? The only thing Mila could think of were the memories of all the times her grandfather took her in his arms as a child and told her about the war. How they sat there in the rocking chair and rocked back and forth. Although the very old chair stood on a pair of rugs, to protect the underlying wooden floor in the old cottage they lived in, it creaked ominously for every swing. The creaks became a part of the story, part of the fear that her grandfather described; how he as a young man, no ... as a young boy stood with a rifle in his hand with the whole country’s expectations on his shoulders in Stalingrad, without a clue what he was going to face. A fear that he, despite having both vomited and cried, was forced to push away far behind in his mind and instead wrap himself in a mental armor. An armor that Mila here and there, while facing the knowledge that they did not have the faintest idea of what they were getting into, put on as on autopilot, without blinking. As if she always had it in her back pocket, always ready. That was in a way true; her strange, traumatic upbringing had left its mark, for better or worse.

She was wrapped in that armor, combined with her constant, almost indifferent calm (possibly also a product of her upbringing), spiced with a couple of sips of vodka before they left, when they set off the next day to the Savior’s compound. 

“We did not know what we were running against.” Her grandfather had said as they rocked in the rocking chair. “It was just thick fog all around us, above and underneath. The ground was like a muddy field even though we were in the middle of the city. In fact, it was bodies we ran over that lay for a very long time, but we couldn’t see that. Eyes forward, that was all they yelled.”

Eyes forward, that was what Mila, subconsciously, thought as she sat next to Daryl in the passenger seat, as they traveled down the road in a caravan. She was still overwhelmed by the thought of her being Mrs Sergeyevna Dixon or something by now, not that they had discussed that part of the agreement; she got a ring and that was it. A silent agreement that it was the two of them now, an unbreakable union, unless they got tired of each other. But as she sat there in the car, looking at the man of few words that had asked for her hand in matrimony -in his own way- the night before, she felt nothing but affinity for him. A different kind of affiliation than the one she had with Jim, but at the same time the same kind of security. It was a solid relationship and she had ever doubted her feelings for him, not for a second.

“What’d you mean by Montana?” Daryl suddenly asked and looked at her. 

“Huh?”

“Last night.” He lowered his voice somewhat, so that their fellow passengers, Maggie, Glenn and Gabriel, would not hear them. “Ya’ said ‘better than Montana’, what’d you mean?”

Mila let out a soft laugh. Did she say that out loud?

“I always wanted to go there.” She said smiling. “For a honeymoon.”

“Why the fuck Montana?” Daryl sputtered, as if he couldn’t believe her words.

”Wha- you’ve ever seen pictures of Montana?” Mila exclaimed. ”Rocky Mountains, Crazy Mountains-”

”Crazy Mountains?”

”It’s actually short for Crazy Woman Mountains. Apparently, a woman went insane and lived in them after her family was killed in the westward settlement movement.”

”Sounds perfect for ya’.” The archer gave her a faint smirk, an amused one. 

”Fuck off!” Mila laughed and gave him a soft push.  

As they drove around a bend, Mila noticed the RV’s red brake light in front of them. The caravan, consisting of three vehicles, braked and stopped. The road they had stopped at were lined with shattered and rusting cars, around them were grassy fields and green trees. As they went out of the car, Mila could hear Rick call out: 

“We’ll peel off every quarter mile, meet back here in a couple of hours. See what we got.”

As she secured the leather strap attached to her trustworthy AK Mila could see Glenn and Heath disappear into the vegetation in one direction, looking for a walker that looked somewhat similar to Gregory. Her brain quickly adjusted and went into ‘hunt mode’; it felt almost as it did before she and Juri came to Alexandria. On some occasions she had left Juri alone to go out and scavenge on her own; she hid him away somewhere, instructed him to stay hidden and that she would be back in an hour. To be sure he felt okay with it she left her watch with him. When the hour hand had traveled all the way around she would be back. Every time she left Juri alone like that it was as if she was shedding skin; transformed from a protective, loving mother to a ruthless hunter and survivor, ready for almost anything. She had never been afraid to walk out into the unknown alone - yet another product of her strange, not-too-accurate childhood. Papa had, on a not-so-sober occasion, while they were out driving in the countryside where they had their dacha, stopped the car by the side of the dirt road and ordered her to get out of the car. Mila was 10 years old at the time.

“From here you can walk.” He said, resting his arm out through the rolled down car window. 

It was a hot day, the sun was shining and Mila looked at him with a gaping mouth.

“That’s far!”

“So?”

“I’ve never walked there.”

“So?” Papa shrugged and turned the engine. “Solve it. You’ll get there. Think a little.”

Then he left, leaving Mila standing on the dirty, dusty country road. Ten years old and left to find her way home on her own. Solve it. Another kid had probably started crying and panicking. That was weakness in its purest form, according to her father. Mila would learn to manage on her own, solve problems and above all learn to not panic in any sort of distressed situation. The reason was very simple, but not conventional. ‘Alone is always strongest’, those words she knew almost better than the evening prayer, which she nevertheless never performed. Therefore, she just kicked in the dry ground with her sandal and sighed. Then she started walking under the scorching sun, while the ground in front of her shivered from the heat. After a while she took off her shoes and ran barefoot on the hot road, before she went down and started to walk in the ditch by the road, to prevent the soles of her feet from getting completely burnt. Rather burnt legs from stinging nettles than burnt soles of her feet. She had learned that early on in life, to prioritize and consider which of two alternatives was preferable, whatever they may be. Two hours later she arrived at the cottage. Papa hadn’t said anything, just nodded towards her when she walked through the gate as he sat in the chair in the garden, bare-chested with a bottle of vodka and a bowl of freshly picked strawberries from their garden. Instead, it was mama, Mila’s beloved mama, who had to bathe her poor legs with alcohol and take care of her burning tan. But inside, Mila felt victorious. Hah!

“I’ll go this way.” She therefore said as Daryl came up by her side. 

“On ye’re own?” Daryl scoffed. “Don’t think so.”

Mila scoffed back at him.

“I think I’ll be okay.” She replied. “I can find a walker and pick a head on my own, thanks.”

In fact, she had begun to feel ill again during the drive. If she could slip away in solitude and vomit it would be fantastic, but she didn’t escape that easily. One hundred meters into the woods, she had therefore hurried in advance in front of Daryl, taken support against a tree and vomited against the trunk; a mushy mix consisting of not completely digested oatmeal, liquid and stomach acid. 

“Hey-” She could hear Daryl hurry up behind her. He came up to her side, looked at her. “Ya’ alright?”

“Now I am.” Mila spat on the ground, shaking through her whole body of the acrid taste.

“Fuck sake…” Daryl sighed and from her bent over position she could see him place his hands at his hips. “The hell ya’ are.”

The thought, that unthinkable thought that she had pushed aside so many times now, came to mind again. No, she was not allowed to think like that. 

“Got any water?” Mila asked in something between a sigh and a panting and looked up at Daryl, met his worried eyes. 

Swearing, he pulled a bottle out of his back pocket with his free hand and gave it to her. She poured the water into her mouth, washed it out and spit it out on the ground. 

“Motion sickness.” She said briefly and straightened up. “Shall we continue?” Her stubbornness won over Daryl’s. Of course, Mila knew that he would rather throw her over his shoulder and carry her back to the car and lock her in there, in the belief that she was ill, but no. Mila had other plans. They therefore went further into the woods, to find a walker that could be mistaken for Gregory. But they were unlucky, encountering only three female walkers and a man who was too young in his former, living, life. By the time they returned to the cars the problem had already been solved. Three graying heads stood lined up on the road in front of Rick, Jesus and Andy from Hilltop. 

“We’ll do it at night.” Jesus told them. “Andy delivers the package, while he’s doing that, we’ll disarm the guards and get inside.” He looked at Mila and wrinkled his nose. “You’ve vomited or something?” Mila shrugged in reply. “Again?” He asked. “That time of the month?”

Daryl was close to flying at Jesus, but Mila stopped him and shook her head. 

“Motion sickness or something.”

“Or could be-” Jesus nodded with his head. 

“Motion sickness.” Mila said sharply, clearly indicating that the matter had now been finalized. 

They remained out there until the sun started to go down, just waiting for the moment when they would get into the vehicles again and drive to Savior’s compound. While waiting, they sat on the hood of the car, leaning against the windshield. Mila had received a package of peppermint chewing gum from Sasha, which she had finished in the blink of an eye, to hide the pungent smell of vomit. It seemed to work well, combined with a bottle of water. 

“What is it?”

“Hm?” Mila turned and met Daryl’s eyes. They were searching, as if he wanted to read her mind.

“Ya’ smilin’.” He blinked, turned his head and looked straight forward. 

“Is that weird?” She asked, reaching for his hand to play with his fingers. The glimmering stone glistened in the declining sunlight. “I was thinking about chance. How I couldn’t imagine what meeting you would lead to.” She smiled. “Me, being Mrs. Dixon.”

It was effective. Daryl turned his head and met her gaze. He looked overwhelmed, almost embarrassed. He looked into her eyes, as if struggling to keep up the eye contact. That inherent insecurity in him, it was so deeply rooted, but during the months they’d known each other she’d seen him crawl out of his shell, very slowly, scared to get hurted. 

“What?”

“I guess that’s what I am.” She said and didn’t break eye contact. She felt nothing but safe looking into his eyes, respect and love. 

It was as if he pondered the words, tasted each syllable. As if it dawned on him there and then, sitting on the hood next to her on the abandoned road, while the sun set in the distance. 

“I’m afraid.”

His words puzzled her a little.

“For what?”

“Just- losing ya’.” He replied something reluctant, as if it hurt to admit maybe his inner, deepest fear. “I can’t lose ya’, Jersey.”  

“Moya lyubov.” Mila caressed his cheek. “There’s no reason to think you should. I’m not going anywhere. Least of all away from you.”

He pondered her words. 

“Mrs. Dixon.” He said it with a vague smile, which grew to a full smile. “Like the sound of that.”

“Me too.” Mila intertwined her fingers with his and chuckled happily. “Like- wow, I have a husband.”

Those words made him tune in to her chuckle. He liked what he heard. He turned his head towards her, a little askew, smiling. His hair fell forward on his forehead and Mila felt a tickling sensation throughout her whole body. He was beautiful, and he was hers.  

“Knew it from the beginning.” Daryl said. “When ya’- both of ya’ came to Alexandria. I’d never felt like that before. I- liked ya, love ya. Don’t know how ‘cause I’d just met ya’, but I knew I did.”

Mila had no time to respond.

“It’s time!” Rick had called out. 

They jumped down from the hood and got into the car. It was time. When they started approaching their goal, it was already dark. The RV stopped in the middle of the darkness and Andy got out and walked over to their car. They were instructed to park and walk the last bit, so they wouldn’t be discovered. Andy would take their car and drive to the compound with the head. 

“It’s not far.” He said. “I’ll give you a headstart.”

After walking through the vegetation for a while, accompanied by thousands of crickets playing in the dark, Mila and the others saw something through the foliage. Concrete, barely visible if you didn’t look closely. They had arrived. Silently they crept forward, taking positions so that they would not be discovered. It was an old satellite station with a huge satellite on top of the roof. Had they not been assured that the compound was guarded, Mila would have thought it was abandoned. No sound was heard and no light was lit. About five minutes later, they heard a car approaching and Andy drove up in front of the quiet building. Suddenly, bright red lights was turned on and a speaker sounded:

“Stop right there! Announce yourself, asshole!”

Silently, while the men talked to each other in loud voices, Mila made sure the rifle was loaded and clear, that her knife was close at hand and the gun was easy to reach for. She felt calm and breathed slowly as the front door of the building opened and two armed men came out to collect the head. She saw them clearly from her spot while resting her finger on the trigger, ready to raise her rifle and put the two men out. While staying silent, still ready to put a bullet in the two mens back heads, she heard them chuckle at the chopped off head, making fun of it. The guy holding the head turned and went inside, while the other one, a shorter guy in a leather jacket and a beanie, stayed behind with Andy. For some reason he started to whistle, a song Mila recognized as “Happy birthday”. At the same time, she felt Daryl’s fingertips softly brush the back of her hand. She shifted her gaze back to him, knowing that this was his que. Quietly, he moved out from their hiding spot behind the corner. As long as they had known each other, Mila had marveled at Daryl’s ability to move so smoothly, silently. Like a cat, despite his tall, muscular physique. Just as silently he lifted his strong arm, placed it around the man’s head, whereupon he quickly and smoothly bent it backwards and cut off the carotid artery. A guttural sound was all that came from the man’s mouth as he sank to the ground, where Daryl ended his suffering by pressing the knife right into his head. 

The rest of the group hurried out of their hiding spots. The now dead Savior was carried away and Andy was given a gun which he hid in the back of his pants. Quickly they hid again, right before the front door was opened once again. The Hilltop prisoner, Craig, and a Savior.

“Well, well… look who it is.”

Famous last words before he was pierced through the chest by a katana. Craig stumbled and was supported by Andy, while Michonne and Rick ended the Savior. Aaron dragged him away, into the bushes where they’d placed the other guy. Daryl covered Glenn and they went into the building, Mila followed closely after. Eyes forward, focused on the goal. 

Inside was almost as dull as the outside; concrete walls, concrete floor. The only light source came from sparsely placed lamps along the walls, which spread a yellow-green glow. 

“Check the doors, find the arsenal.” Rick said behind Mila.

“Will do.” Mila replied, glad to have been assigned a task. 

She and Daryl set off to search the arsenal. But before they got the chance to find it, a deafening siren made them both put their hands over their ears. Daryl pulled her towards him, pressed her up against a wall and himself in front of her, as a shield. 

“What’s that?!” Mila exclaimed with a pounding heart, surprised by the sudden shift. 

“An alarm.” Daryl exclaimed, looking around in the corridor. “They know we’re here.”

Heavy shooting, somewhere in the building, followed his words. They looked at each other, before they both set off in the direction of the shooting. Mila ran first, rifle raised in front of her. She braked when she saw Michonne, then Rick. 

“Come on, let’s go!” Rick called as he saw Mila and Daryl. 

Without hesitating, Mila set off around the corner; fearless, just as unaware of what would meet her as her grandfather when he ran into the fog in Stalingrad. Her mind was sharp, clear beyond measure as she lifted her rifle, saw a man she hadn’t seen before, aimed at him and pulled the trigger. She ran past him, towards the sound of more shooting, with the three others behind her. Daryl came up at her side, refused to let her take the lead and scurried past her. At the next corner, they stopped and pressed against the wall, to avoid ending up in the middle of the firing line.

“Screw this.” Mila panted, flushed with adrenaline. As soon as there was a break, probably to reload, she briskly walked out in the other corridor, only to stand face to face with not less than two men with automatic rifles in their arms. “Hello boys.” She said untouched, before raising her rifle and mowing them down like skittles on the bowling alley. 

They then continued down the corridor’s end, where Daryl started to work on the locked door with his automatic. Mila peeked through the small, square window, and managed to duck just in time before it shattered by a bullet. 

“Son of a bi-” Daryl shoutet. At the same time he hit the handle so hard that the lock broke and fell off. The door flew up and Daryl crashed through it, just in time to knock down the man who had shot through the glass window at her. With full force Daryl began to beat the man with the handle of the weapon, all while cursing at him. “That’s my goddamn wife ya’ fucking… piece… of…-”

If Mila hadn’t dragged Daryl away from him, he probably had turned that already dead bastard into minced meat. 

“I love you.” She said in passing as she got him up from the ground, high on the rush and a little excited about the fact of being defended as his ‘goddamn wife’. But it wasn’t really the right time to feel raunchy. 

They must have lasted longer than it felt like in there, taking out Savior after Savior, because when they finally got out of the building it was bright, probably early in the morning. Again, they were sweaty, bloodthirsty and high on the rush. They had survived. Everything had gone according to plan. 

Mila leaned up against Daryl, pressed her body against his and felt his arms wrap around her as she rested her head against his chest. 

“We did good.” She sighed. “We did good.”

“Sure did.” Daryl placed a long kiss on her head, pressed her closer against him. 

While they stood there, the others moved across the area, to make sure no Savior managed to escape. Mila allowed herself to close her eyes, a standing rest in Daryl’s arms. She so desperately wished they were back in Alexandria, preferably in bed in the abandoned townhouse. It had been a short but passionate honeymoon; she hoped they could get an exemption for one more night on their own when they returned. Carol hopefully wouldn’t mind taking care of Juri again and make sure he got to bed. She felt a carnal hunger like no other for her husband; wanted to enjoy him, body and soul, without a tight deadline. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by a clattering sound. Shooting. The next moment she hit the ground and felt Daryl’s body on top of her. More shootings, this time from their own group. No, she was not met. Daryl seemed okay too, acting as a living shield for her.

“Ya’ alright?”

“Yeah.” She gasped.

Daryl lifted his weight from her and helped her up from the dry grass, just in time to see a door open and a man running out and fled. Without a word, Daryl began to sprint and threw himself around the waist of the fugitive. They wrestled on the ground, knuckles and fists flew through the air as the others ran towards them. They rounded up, pointing their guns at the man on the ground, now bleeding from both his mouth and nose.

“Just do it!” The man exclaimed, sputtering blood all around himself as he shouted, as Rick’s hammer clicked. “Like you did with everyone else, right!?” 

“You won’t have to ask twice.” Mila said with a wry grin. 

A crackling sound, followed by a beep, made them all jump on the spot. What the fuck was that? Mila searched around the area, let her gaze sweep over the grass, the building, the woods, without seeing anyone. That’s when her eyes dropped and landed on the walkie-talkie on the ground next to the bleeding Savior’s head. It talked.  

“Lower your gun, prick. You, with the Colt Python. All of you, lower your weapons now.”

[oingo233]

If It Hurts

Summary: A run goes terribly wrong and Daryl, wounded, must depend on you to get the two of you out.  But will the threat be more than you and the group can handle?  

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Authors Note: This is for Ria’s writing challenge. @im-a-writer-right​. I hope this turned out alright, I enjoyed writing it!  Also the prompts are in bold.

Warnings: Violence, Gore, unwanted sexual comments(not smutty), cussing, and a whole lots of angst which was actually unintentional and just happened, but now I’m crying at 12 in the morning.  Death, and changing POV’s.

Word Count: 4k...oops.

*******************************************************************************************

*******************************************************************************************

A song played softly from the trucks radio as Rick, Carol and you hum along.  Glenn and Maggie are seated in the back of the truck with the bags you’ll all set out with when you get to your destination.  You were about an hour or two from the prison, out on a supply run.  Daryl found a small, deserted town and thought it would be a good idea to look for supplies there.  We were low on medicine and food, hoping to find that and whatever else you could, if we were lucky we’d find seeds too.  

Your window was rolled down and you stuck your arm out of it, spreading your fingers and letting the wind caress your hand.  After the world went to shit, you learned to enjoy the little things, life was too short not to.  You shiver as Daryl glances back at you all, smiling at the way your hand was lazily out of the car, you gave him a small wave and he revved up his engine in acknowledgment. Carol and Rick share a look which you don’t bother to make a snarky comment about, these happy moments were fleeting and you weren’t going to ruin the mood.

You knew the truth, and accepted it long ago.  You loved Daryl, an overwhelming amount at times, and he loved you too.  But in a way that you weren’t sure if he was just being friendly or not. So you kept quite, and decided that just being around him was good enough for you.  You have known Daryl since before y’all found Ricks group. He saved you from a group of walkers that killed your friend, you were devastated and scared of being alone.  He took you in, well, you followed him for three days until he let you join him begrudgingly.  He says he only kept ya around for walker bait if he’d ever need it.  But you knew this wasn’t the truth.

You were the person closest to Daryl, able to understand him and him you.  You were always the first one to ease a smile out of him, or the first to piss him off. Daryl was the one person, who if he was by your side, you always felt better about the world you all lived in today. 

The easiness of the day filled your heart with joy, and you hollered out the window, letting the wind carry your voice else where.  Everyone in the truck chuckled, but up ahead Daryl sped up and screamed into the window with you.  Rick sped up too, laughing.  Everyone knew that no walker could touch you at this speed.  

Soon, you all arrived at the destination.  Glenn and Maggie climbed out of the truck, engaged in a conversation. You sneak a glance at the couple, and internally cooed at the way Glenn was looking at Maggie.  As if she was the world.  You watched as Daryl approached the group and wondered if you looked at him that way.  He caught you staring and winked, you ignore your blush and push forwards some confidence.

“Miss me?”  You call out to his approaching figure.  He shrugs off his crossbow and gives you a pointed look.

“Nah, I was just thinkin’ bout how quite it was without ya, until ya screamed out to the fuckin’ wind.”  He feigned annoyance at first, then looked back at you with a slight smile.  You roll your eyes, and bring your hand to your mouth, pretending to zip it up.  He was the one to roll his eyes now as he walks past you towards Carol to retrieve a bag from her.  She was handing them out from the back of the truck, and when Daryl came back he threw one at you.  You caught it with a tight smile. Nearly hit your damn face.  

Everyone was quite as Rick explained the plan.  “We move as a unit, no one needs to get hurt today.  Last time we checked this place is was uninhabited, but watch out for walkers.  It’s a big town so lets not split up...unless we need the time.  Alright.”  He frees his gun from the holster and holds it out infront of him.  

“Thought you said it was uninhabited.”  Glenn said, Rick glanced back at him.

“I also said ‘last time’.” Rick replies, Carol chimed in with a warm smile.  Seems I wasn’t the only one enjoying the day.

“Nothing wrong with being careful.” She says, pulling out her own gun and following Rick towards the first store.  Glenn and Maggie move infront of you and then Daryl pulls out his crossbow and nudges you to move forward.  You push him back a bit before walking forward, you don’t need to see him to know the massive eyeroll he just pulled.  

It was only out in the open like this, with people he trusted and loved that he was comfortable.  Back at the prison, with all the new arrivals, Daryl was closed off and distant from a lot of people.  Some might even call him brooding.

You guys made it through three separate stores before everything went to shit, and just like that the peaceful day turned into a living nightmare.

You were walking the sidewalk with Maggie, keeping watch while the others cleared out the inside of the fourth building.  You heard Daryl whistle letting you know it was all clear, when the first shot rang out.  Everything felt slow as you sprinted around the side of the building, covering yourself.  You looked around for the source of the sound, but saw no one.  You saw no one.  You were filled with dread as you realized you were all alone.  Maggie must have ran inside the store, instead of to the corner of it, out in the open...god how could you be such a dumbass. 

You put a hand over your mouth and pushed further against the wall as you heard footsteps.  They echoed against the eerie silence in the town, horror filled you as you counted numerous steps all at once.  There was a group of hostile survivors, and you were alone with a pistol and an axe.  You tried to fill yourself with positive thoughts, reminding yourself that you’re a badass.  You could take them, easy...

“Come on out, pretty thing.”  A deep voice rumbled out, the sound filled your body with queasiness.  “I’d like to run a number on you...”He let out a loud wolf whistle and you heard a shuffle from inside the store, before it fell deathly silent again.  Only the sounds of footsteps getting closer and closer.

“C’mon, we just want one of ya.  Though we’d take two given the chance.” Obnoxious laughter rings out before a new, younger voice speaks up. 

“Pretty girls are hard to find now a days.  Why don’t you be nice and come out for us.  We’ll treat ya for it.”  The laughter sounded again, and this time it was closer.  You gripped your pistol tighter, finger rigid on the trigger.  Then a loud sound came from inside the store, yelling and crashing.  

“Daryl no!”  It was Carols voice, and you swear you heard Rick telling him to wait.  But it was too late, your heart stopped at the thought of Daryl getting hurt.  The footsteps fade away from you and towards the entrance of the door. Through the commotion you heard the whiz of a crossbows bolt.  A loud groan rang out and your heart gave out, until you heard another bolt and some gunshots.  

You stepped out from the corner only to be dragged away as more gunshots rang out.  You scream out and fight to get away, but the strong arm was unmoving from your waist.  You were dragged into the nearest store, you looked around at the unfamiliar surrounding and noticed it was one you haven’t checked yet.  You scream louder, hoping someone from your group would hear you.  “Shut it, girl.”  The hand moved from your waist and you spun around to see Daryl.  His crossbow in one hand, and the one previously wrapped around your waist was hugging his own.  

“Daryl...”You breathe out.  You felt more relieved than you should considering the still risky situation you were in.  “I thought...”Your eyes water and you pull Daryl into your chest for a tight hug.  He stiffens for a moment before hugging you with one arm, the crossbow digging into your shoulder but you didn’t care.  He tucks his head away in the crook of your neck, his lips part and you feel his hot breath roll down your neck and shoulder. 

“I know.  Me too.”  He grunts out, his voice rougher than usual.  You pull away confused.  You feel a strange wetness against your side and look down to see your shirt covered in blood, but it wasn’t your own.  At a shocking speed you look at Daryls stomach to see him holding his side, blooding leaking through his fingers.  

Your chest heaves and constricts at the sight.  His shirt dripped blood every few seconds and his shirt seemed to be just a red puddle against his waist.  You blink back tears and grab Daryls shoulder, not able to look him in the eye.  He was hurt because of you...

“Lie down.”  You say stiffly.  He grunts out and tries to move towards the door and the chorus of gunshots and fighting outside.

“M’ fine.  We need to go.  Ain’t safe.”  You take his other shoulder and meet his stare.  

“Lie down.”  You say softly.  He only stares at you.  Your heart beats even faster and your primal fear of losing him kicks in.  You were losing too much time, he was losing too much time and too much blood.  “Daryl, lie the fuck down and let me help you.  Please.”  He lets you grab the crossbow from his hand and lightly set it down, his hand was sticky with blood.  But he doesn’t lie down, he looks behind you towards the window where we can see Rick duck behind a car after firing another round at these dangerous strangers.

  He looks back down at you, ready to say another thing about leaving, but his words fall short as he sees tears stream down your face.  You roughly wipe them away.  With one last look at you, and an agonized groan, Daryl laid down.  Before he fell back completely you stopped him.  

“On your side, I need to see if there is an exit wound.”  Daryl stared at you a while longer, you’ve only seen his scars once and it turned into a fight.  He couldn’t look at you for days after.    “Please, Daryl I can’t lose you.  You don’t get to die today because you’re a stubborn asshole.” You beg. He tucks his head under his arm and avoids your eyes as he turns on his side. You wipe at more tears furiously as he waits for you to look at him in disgust.  You remind yourself to talk to him about this later, as you see the distant and uncomfortable expression he wears, glaring at the shelf across from him.  You weren’t sure if it was the gunshot wound, or this moment you two were about to relive that made him act this way.  

“May I look?”  You ask him softly, knowing that either way you were going to, but you knew he’d appreciate it.  He nods slowly, taking a deep breath not unnoticed by you.  You kneel down and replace his hand apply pressure with your own, smaller one, his fingers retracted slightly from you, before he placed his shaking hand on top of yours. Softly you lift the fabric up his back.  He winces slightly.  A sigh of relief escapes your lips as you see that right above his hip, there was a gaping hole.  An exit wound, and it didn’t seem to be in a critical place.  You quickly stole a look at his scars, it was unintentional but filled your heart with even more love for the man. He was strong, and he would survive this...he had to.  

But his skin felt feverish, and you looked at his face to find him shockingly pale.  You only then noticed the small puddle of blood forming around your knees. You quickly push his hand down on the wound again and let your hand apply pressure to the exit wound, a small sob escaping your lips.

“That bad huh?”  He grunts out.  You control your breathing, refusing to lose control and let him die.  You quickly grab a shirt from the nearest rack and press it against the wound.

“Stay here.” You say, deciding on a plan.  His head whips to yours, and he groans out in pain, eyes fluttering dangerously.  

“You ain’t leaving.”He demands.

“Well, you ain’t dying.  I’ll be back before you know it.”  You offer him a soft smile before kissing his temple, and running out the door.  Lips burning. You ignore his shouts as you open the door, and burst out onto the battlefield.  Your group hidden behind cars, you feared the body count and pain you’d all carry after today. With Daryl in the condition he was in, your heart couldn’t stand the thought of any of your make shift family members dead.  Rick catches your eye, and you notice his expression falter at the sight of all the blood on you.  “Daryl.”  You mouth to him.  “Cover me.”  He swallows his emotions and nods to you.  Getting the attention of everyone as you run towards the store you saw needles in, and left your bag in, which had some alcohol in it.

Daryl’s POV

Daryl keeps his eyes trained on (Y/N) for as far as he can see through the broken window.  His side crippled with pain, and every time his eyes unfocused a bit more he’d be struck with a wave of hopelessness.  Is that was dying feels like?  Well, ain’t a bad way to go, he thought, taking the bullet for someone you love.  His thoughts turn bitter as he glances out the window, anxiety crushing his lungs.  Only for ‘er to fucking run out and kill ‘erself.  

“(Y/N)” He called once more. He listened for your sweet voice, hoping to hear you say some smartass thing.  Hoping he wouldn’t die alone.  

“(Y/N)!” He croaked out once more.  He didn’t care if he was being too loud, he was scared, he’d never say it out loud, but he was.  His heart sighed as he heard shuffled footsteps.  Ready to tell you off for being reckless.  But as he glanced over his shoulder he was met with the sagging, bloody face of the undead.  

Despite his pain he uses his feet to push himself backwards up against a cold metal shelf, empty of food.  A low moan left the walkers mouth and Daryl reached for his crossbow a few feet away.  He couldn’t reach it.  Daryl gritted his teeth and overeached, he fell on his shot side and yelled out in pain.  A new rush of blood pushes past the fabric of the two shirts.  

With a weak, trembling hand he shot the walker in the shoulder.  He gritted his teeth, still on his side, and shot the walker again, this time, through the head.  The walker fell to the floor not too far from him.  Daryl stared in it’s shallow eyes, wondering if that’ll be him soon.  It sure felt like it.  He lays and stares at the walker when he noticed something wrong.  It was silent.

No more gunshots, or yells.  No more fighting. He propped himself up on his elbow painfully, and glanced out the window.  What he saw made his heart drop.  He gripped his crossbow tighter, and struggled to get up.  But he just collapsed back in a puddle of his own blood.

“We got the girl.”  A man was holding you by the hair with one hand, and holding a knife to your throat with the other.  He rubbed his graying beard against the side of your face in lustful affection. “Just the one I was hoping for too.”  The men behind him that were still alive chuckled. Daryl let out a growl worst then the walkers and tried to aim his crossbow at the man whose arms you were squirming in.  Arms you were hurtin’ in, he thought.  But even a fool knew the bolt would fall short.

Daryl felt like he was drowning in cold sweat and blood, the crossbow slipped from his hand.  

“You let us walk away safely, and we won’t kill her.” The man says. Rick stood from behind the car, holding his weapon free hands in the air, a sign of surrender, but Daryl saw the strategy, or at least hoped there was one.

“Give us the girl, and no one gets hurt.” Rick says.

“Don’t you fuckin’ move.”  The guy yells, firming his grip on (Y/N)’s hair making her hands fly to his wrist.  He shakes her hands off of him and throws her to the ground.  He pulls out his gun and aims it at her head. “Don’t move...”

Rick stopped walking.  Daryl wanted to shout for him to kill the fucker, or better yet he wish he could do it himself.  But he was starting to feel weaker and weaker, until his legs were near numb and he couldn’t get up despite how much he struggled.  He could die, but he could never watch you die.  He closed his heavy eyes, giving into his tiredness as he hears a gunshot ring out. It echoes in his head long after it is silent.  He didn’t want to look, his heart heavy, and even if he wanted to, he couldn’t.  He couldn’t feel a thing.

*****

Daryl was rocking.  Like a baby in a mothers arms, he was being tossed around.  But how?  Where was he?  His eyes opened briefly before closing, the sun was never this bright before.  He wasn’t sure why, but he called your name.

As if an angel answered, he heard your voice.  “I’m here Daryl.  God, please wake up.  I’m here!”  You sounded more upset than he has ever heard you.  Were you in danger?  

“(Y/N)?”  He calls out again.  As his haze begins to fade, the confusion is filled with pain.  A loud, gritty moan of agony left his lips as his side withers with pain.   How did he get shot?  The question was fleeting as everything in the last 2 hours came back to him.  Survivors, the group attacked, (Y/N) shot.  But how were you here?  

“The men?” He asks.  He felt a clammy hand caress his cheek.  

“They’re dead.”  It was Carol’s shaky voice.

Someone was prodding at his gunshot wound, the pain worse than ever before.  He pushed the hand away only for it to return with more force.  His eyes shot open, and he caught himself staring at your face.  His pain became less relevant as he took in yours.  His hand instinctively reached to trace the fresh black eye you had, his fingers fell down to your busted lip.  Groggily he pulled on your lip, seeing that the cut ran deep inside your mouth. You faltered in your movement and looked at him, leaning into his touch. He pulls away as everywhere his hand touched, a trial of his blood was left.  You looked into his eyes, the redness and panic in them scared Daryl.  

Daryl looked around, Carol and Maggie were crouched down beside him, both looked like they were holding back tears.  Daryl’s hand fell next to (Y/N)’s knee and he felt the familiar truck underneath them.  Daryl was rocking like a baby, because Rick was driving like a mad man to get to the prison.

Daryl looked back at you but his expression turned sour as an overwhelming amount of pain reached all the way up from his side.  He glanced down to see your hands soaked in blood, between your shaking fingers was a threaded needle.  He closed his eyes as you pulled the needle through his side again to bring the skin back together.  He didn’t want to watch, instead he opened his eyes again and kept them on you even if you weren’t looking back. He couldn’t keep his pain a secret anymore no matter how hard he tried, another cry falling from his lips.

Your lips pucker out and another tear falls from your puffy eyes.  You stop for a second and look down at him.  Daryl catches his breath. Right now he just saw and felt you, a little broken, but you made him feel good, at peace.  You made the pain bearable as you softly pull back his hair from his sticky forehead. It took him a while until he realized you were speaking.

“...Daryl, this is going to be uncomfortable but it needs to be done.  If it hurts...”Your words falter and you bite your lip, holding back a sob.  Hurting him was the last thing you wanted to do, but you knew there was no line you wouldn’t cross to save him.  “...Just take me by hand and hold me tight.  It’ll all be over soon.”  He stared at you expressionless, feeling like he was in a fever dream.  Maybe he was, and maybe you were actually dead.  The thought alone caused him terrible pain and he closed his eyes, nodding to you.  He opened them and reached for your bloody hand.  His grip was weak, but his fingers gripped onto with all he had at the moment and it gave you the strength to carry on.  You use the thin thread you pulled out of your shirt in a quick compromise, to stitch his wound shut.  Praying the bleeding would cease.  His grip grew tighter as the process dragged on, stitching was harder with one hand.  His eyes found your soft lips, and he found himself wanting nothing more than to finally kiss them.  He was a fool, he thinks, a fool to let you pass him by. He gave your hand one last squeeze before he closes his eyes for the last time, thinking of you.

Your POV

You finished the last stitch and stared hesitantly at the job you have done, Hershel would have done better.  Maggie, who was watching with a horrified expression, cut the thread with her knife and gave you a weak smile.  Carol was caressing Daryl’s head, her fingers running through his hair, either to calm him down, or herself.  Daryl gave your hand a tight, long squeeze, causing you to smile down at him.  But his hand soon fell limp, and his eyes fluttered closed.  Carol whimpers and grabbed his face, desperate not to lose another person she loves.  

“Daryl...” She sobs out.  His eyebrows weren’t tight in a knot, or raised sassily up, he wasn’t frowning, and he didn’t look troubled.  He didn’t look alive.  With a shaky breath you call his name, again and again you scream at him.  You can’t hear as Maggie yells for the prison gates to be open, or as Rick shouts out for Hershel.  

You gather Daryls hand and hold it tight against your chest, your tears running down his forearm as you make his hand cradle your cheek. Your tears leave his hands a little cleaner than before, and you hope that if there is a heaven that he’ll be allowed in, even with all the blood on his hands and the things he has done.  You push your face further into his hands, gripping them with your own and missing the warmth he gave you just seconds ago.

“Daryl...” Your voice leaves you, as Hershel, Rick and Glenn drag Daryls body to the medical cell block.  You claw at Carols arms wrapped around your waist, her face tucked into your neck, crying.  Maggie holds you both, her burning eyes following Daryl’s body through the field, and the bloody trail that follows.

You sat outside of that cellblock for hours that day, knowing the truth.  It was void of life.  You heard hours earlier as Rick sobbed, driving the knife through his head.  Daryl, your Daryl, wouldn’t ever wake up.

[klea221]

Blood and Gold Part 1

*This is a fic of my own. I have not finished campaign 2 yet but I am being self indulgent and writing because I cannot get enough of Mollymauk. (I refuse to let him be dead!)*

The wind off the river was warm and calming, just like any other day in Marquet.

Merchants bartered and unloaded cargo. Children stopped to gawk at the foreign goods only to be quickly shooed away.

Life here was simple to the untrained eye but for those who knew better, “freedom” came at a cost.

Beginning to climb off the rocks and through the reeds, I realize that my hiding spot is in jeopardy. Stilling, I hope to remain unseen by the guards.

Casting “disguise self”, I make my way to the passenger ship. The price is a steep 300 gold but once I get to the menagerie coast, I can start my new life. Surely, its worth the cost. Hopefully, my sister Yara will keep up the illusion until I’m far enough away…

I limit my time outside the cabin to twice a day to keep up the disguise. The rest of the time I use to plan my next steps. Of course I had never really “worked” before but, I had extensive tutoring and training at the palace which could come in useful. Armed with my bow, a dagger, and my sword, I could become some sort of adventurer! It could be like the stories father used to tell us growing up about the great heroes of the past!

Shrugging it off, I remind myself not to get too carried away. Surely, it would be more reasonable to work in a tavern of some sort…

Suddenly, I am pushed out of my thoughts by my sister’s message,

“(Y/N)! Its me, Yara! I was unable to keep up the act! Father has sent a search party! Be safe”

~~

Even with closed eyes, I can still smell the blood. As quick as the rebellion came and left, the damage was already done. The streets of Ank’Harel were stained red. Noble houses were torn a part and everyone was on edge.

After a week of negotiation, things began to change. Hopefully things would go back to “normal”.

“We will form an alliance! There will be no more bloodshed in this city. We have a duty to the people, Ozai!” commanded the king.

“Yes, of course. There is however, a price for my… compliance” says General Ozai.

“Name it” answered the king, trying to remain prideful.

“Your daughter will marry Omar, He will become the Prince”.

“It will be done”.

I couldn’t breathe.

Omar was just as cruel as his father-if not worse. He was even rumoured to keep many slaves. Surely this man could not ever love let alone be a good husband. I felt sick. As I looked around the room, it spun and no body seemed to care.

~

“I will not hear anymore of this (y/n). My word is final! You will marry Omar! The wedding will be next month and that is that!” yelled the king.

My father almost never yelled, especially not to me. After the rebellion he seemed to be unhinged and there would be no use in arguing. My fate is settled; marry Omar or go far away-and never return…

“I understand” was all I could muster before storming off to my chambers. I grabbed all that I could and made my way to the docks.

~

My eyes shot open as I rose from the hard cot. The ship’s horn bellowed, vibrating the floor and walls of the cabin. Looking over to my window, I could see a huge lighthouse in the shape of the Wild Mother. This is it! This must be Nicodranas! Excited for what this new place has in store, I toss all of my things into my bag and leave the ship for the last time.

~~

I cannot help but feel captivated by the delicate blue hues around me. The air is a beautiful combination of warmth, sea salt, and the smell of cinnamon. Looking over to a bakery, I see freshly made pastries and decide I should indulge myself! Why not?

Before I am able to take my first bite, the heavy presence of guards makes me uneasy. Trying to be stealthy, I make my way into an alley and case “disguise self” for the first time today.

“Hey! I can do that too!” says a cheerful accented voice.

Looking over my shoulder, I see a blue tiefling magically transform into a blond human girl in peasant’s clothing.

“My name is Jester! I’ll keep your secret if you give me your donut!” she says happily eyeing my purchase.

Though she is quite forward, I feel comforted by the tiefling and decide that maybe I shouldn’t be alone anymore.

“Why don’t I just buy us some more then! Oh- and my name is y/n!” I tell her as we walk back to the bakery.

~

Jester can talk nonstop! Normally this would be a little much for me but, having travelled alone for so long, I welcome it. Jester quickly tells me all about the city, her mother, and all the tricks the so called “Traveler” has taught her. Sticking with my plan, I tell her that I am looking for work while in Nicodranas. She happily takes me to her Inn where her mother helps me secure a job. I work hard cleaning up after guests and fetching them any food or drink that they require in exchange for room and board. It is very hard work but, Jester keeps me company most days.

~~

One night as I’m folding tablecloths, I hear a commotion on the stairs. Its Lord Sharpe and he’s livid!

“IF I EVER SEE YOUR DAUGHTER AGAIN I WILL HAVE HER KILLED!”

Oh no! Jester what has she done now!

Trying to stay out of the argument, I look up to see Marion on the staircase with tears streaming down her normally poised face. This was really bad indeed…

~

Making my way up to Jester’s room, I can already hear Marion and Jester.

“But Mama! It was just a joke! Surely he can’t be serious!” whines Jester. She’s completely unaware of the gravity of her actions.

“Lord Sharpe is an extremely powerful man Jester, I don’t think we should take the risk! I think it would be best if you left the city for awhile. Maybe with time things will blow over” says Marion, pushing the hair out of Jester’s face.

Opening the door, I try to aid Marion in convincing Jester to play it safe.

“Jester, your mother is right-I-I’ve seen what men with power can do…” I say cryptically.

Not sensing that Jester is understanding, I take my chances and tell them both my REAL story. I tell them all bout my engagement and how awful the ramifications would have been had I stayed. Who knows, maybe I would’ve been killed one day to give Omar the throne…

“Jester, we can go together, we can keep each other safe from bad guys. I’m sure the Traveler will help us!” I say, trying to persuade her.

“Thank you for telling us this (y/n). You are a true friend. I know you will keep my little sapphire safe!” she says pulling me into a hug.

“It is settled then, we will leave at once!” Jester says.

“Here, this should help you two along” says Marion, placing a rather large coin purse into Jester’s hands. “Be very careful Jester, and try not to play too many tricks!” warns Marion.

~~

Jester had decided that we would search for her long-lost father (whom she had never even met). Not wanting to crush her hopes, I tag along on the mission.

In Port Damali, our “investigation” runs dead. Despite this, we manage to gain a member into our little group. Having noticed our cleric abilities, a half-orc sailor named Fjord offered to travel with us. He tells us that he wishes to enroll at the magic academy in the Dwendalian Empire.

As we lead the coast and travel towards this new Empire, the air become noticeably cooler. The ocean views become obscured by rocky mountain terrain, and I begin to feel anxious for the road ahead.

~

As we arrived at Trostenwald, there was a commotion by the lake. Curiously walking closer, we see a giant water snake and a tiny screaming girl curled in its grasp.

In a matter of seconds, a female monk leaps onto the scene in a flash of blue robes. She begins to pummel the beast with her staff. Seeing as she may need help with killing the snake, the three of us run to help.

Aiming by bow toward the beast, I surprisingly manage to hit it right behind the head. However, before I can get too excited, I realize the beast is far too large for one arrow alone to take it down. The snake angrily strikes at the monk who narrowly dodges the attack.

Fjord runs up to the beast and draws his sword while I prepare another arrow. This time, I aim for the eyes.

Now blinded and confused, the creature is unaware of Fjord’s presence. He quickly begins to cut through the beast’s tough skin, killing it.

As the snake falls to the ground, the crowd erupts with cheers.

Jester runs over to the little girl and quickly casts “cure wounds”. My heart finally slows down knowing that the girl is safe.

“YOU GUYS THAT WAS AWESOME!” yells Jester, waving her hands around.

“Ugh, yeah! That was pretty rad” says the monk. “My name’s Beau by the way”

“Oh! I’m Jester! And this is y/n and Fjord!” says Jester, happily.

“Nice to meet you” I say shyly.

“Are you guys travelling too?” asks Beau.

“Yes, we are making our way north to the Soltryce Academy” says Fjord.

“Ah- the Soltryce Academy you say… No offense but you guys are gonna need some serious coin for that” says the monk, knowingly.

“You don’t say… You wouldn’t happen to know anyone who is hiring, would you?” says the half-orc.

“Well I mean, I was going to do some work for the Baumbach Brewery before this snake thing happened… You’re welcome to tag along if you’d like” offers the monk.

“Hey! That sounds like it could be fun!” says Jester.

~

After living in a palace most of my life, I try not to complain too much about manual labour but this job was BRUTAL. The four of us have done nothing but haul boxes and crates for hours on end. My body was sore and sweaty despite the cool air of Trostenwald.

By the time we got to the Nestled Nook Inn, my body was on autopilot. Not bothering to eat, I head upstairs and crash onto the bed.

~

With an aching body, I finally pull myself out of bed and open the door. I am greeted with the comforting smell of fresh bread and breakfast meats. Sitting down with the rest of the group, I forget my table manners and devour the food placed in front of me.

Not long into breakfast, the little girl’s father from yesterday enters the Inn. Nervously, he makes his way to our table and thanks us graciously. Before leaving, he dumps a hatful of coin onto our table. The coin pile draws much attention so, I rush to divide the pile evenly.

As Jester begins to converse with the table next to us, quick introductions are made. Before I can dwell on the halfling’s odd appearance, two more strange figures make their way noisily through the Inn.

Quickly turning my head in annoyance to the commotion, my heart stops for a moment. Having lived in Marquet all my life, I was used to Tieflings as they were common to see around the city. This lavender one however, was a sight to behold. And Gods was I in trouble…

[samantha-coline]

Crushing on Aizawa ( Collection of interrelated oneshots)

1. Smile

Head held high,she sprinted across the room with the fabric of her gown slapping lightly with each step forward. A formal event was never her thing, so she found it hard to be poised and elegant. But dare she say, she was a sight to behold in her long black gown.

Emi's eyes wandered across the room to spot her date making small talk with a group of people she barely knew. Small talk hardly being his forte, he still looked composed getting away with one word replies. However, what bothered her were the women flirting away with him.

His eyes meet hers and they shared a smile across a crowded room. Her smile soon faded away, as a woman attempted to link arms with him while pressing her chest into him.

Her face grew red in envy and she glared daggers at the back of his head.

He had already drawn is his attention away from her to said the woman, speaking to her softly as her cheeks grew pink.

Tears brimmed in anger in Emi's eyes, and let out a soft sight of relief as she watched the duo part away from eachother. She had hoped, the man in question would make his way to her and stick close together as a date was supposed to. However, he made no such attempt but instead choose to stay in his spot by the bar, leaning against the counter lightly taking slow sips of his drink.

If she was stunning today, he was screaming badboy sexy with his coat off, loosened tie and rolled up sleeves. Aizawa Shouta, looked dangerously handsome with his hair swept back in a man bun and clean shaven look. She found him enticing even in his messy look but to learn that other women felt the same so strongly, made her insecure.

She joined him, grabbing a drink of her own while leaning closely against him, soaking in his warmth. He casually glaced over his shoulder to find Emi nuzzling into his side with affection and he let her. He continued to sip his drink but raised an eyebrow at the sudden loss of warmth as Emi pulled away from him.

As if questioning her move, he turned his torso facing towards his partner to find her looking away from him with a grim look on her face. His forehead creased in anticipation of her voice, which never came as she gave him a bored look.

Few seconds ago, she was cuddling against him but now stood a few inches in an awkard  silence as though they were strangers.

Shrugging his shoulders, he downed the last of his drink at once and attempted to close the distance between them.

One hand grabbed his coat and the other made way to her lower back guiding her away to the empty corner, as he whispered into the shell of her ear making her shiver.

"Let's talk over there."

His hand never left the small of her back, as his thumb drew small circles on her exposed flesh. He smiled as her breath hitched at his small ministrations but restorted back to his poker face.  They reached a dark corner of the room, with Shouta trapping Emi with her back against the wall, hands now in his pockets.

"What's wong?"

"Nothing! Why do you ask?" She said now with a hopeful look, wiping away the frown on her face.

"I don't know. If you say it's nothing, then it's fine." Shouta said casually, shrugging his shoulders since she was the acting weird a few minutes ago.

He caught her slipping into another trance, flicking her forehead with a finger and she winced in pain, swatting away his hand. He grinned as she gave him a look of annoyance rubbing the sore spot, soon followed by a bout of giggles. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding as she beamed brightly at him, one hand resting on her hip.

"Hey, Shouta want to hear some party jokes?" Emi held up a finger in excitement.

"No."

"How do you throw a space party?"

"Uh..."

"You Planet!!! Hahaha!" Her laughter roared loudly catching the attention of the people around them.

"Wait.I got another one. How do poets say hello? "

He gave no answer, but people soon gathered around them as they soon as they recoginzed the beloved smile hero, Ms. Joke.

"Hey,have'nt we metaphor?". She doubled over in laughter and the others joined in as well.

Shouta soon felt out of place and his headache returned for the second time that day. Social gatherings were never his thing, but Emi on the other hand was a social magnet who drew attention from the people around her. The mood was merry whenever she was around, with the contant jokes and her quirk as  well.

Despite her bright smile, she was a demon  behind her laughter quirk who could punch the guts out of villians in combat. Never mess with the pro hero, he learned that the hard way.

"You enjoy the party. I'll be right by the bar. " He informed her and left before she could  say a word.

Soon, she was pre-occupied as known faces engaged her in conversations as she had a lot catching up to do. When she finally caught her breath, Shouta was no where to be found. They really  needed to be together right now, as romantic music filled the rooms and couples came together for a slow dance.

She danced a few rounds before this, but the one that really mattered was nowhere in sight. Dejected, she slowly made her way out of the room through the intimate couples dancing in each other's embrace .Oh, how she envied them.

Emi found herself in the quietness of balcony with the muffled music of the party still resonating in her ears. She bit her lip in frustration inorder to fight back her tears for the second time that day, and wrapped her arms around herself as the chilly air of the night hit her.

Her long black figure-hugging gown was such a waste of money. The sleevless attire showed off her slender but strong arms with her back completely exposed just stopping a little shy from her bottom and her pale right leg peeking through the slit of her dress. Here she was wearing the most bold and revealing attire of her life in his favorite color-black but she recieved no extra attention from him.No compliments,nothing.

It was supposed to be the one of the best nights of her life with her deepest hidden fantascies being fulfilled. It was the first formal event they attented, since they officially got together. After years of her shameless flirting and pinning after him, she could proudly confirm the status of their relationship.

According to her fantasy, they were supposed to be stuck to the hip and him fawning all over her in her dress. They would be swaying  in eachother's arms to the music sharing kisses as he whispered sweet nothings into her ears. But alas! Here she was all alone outside weeping, while other women fawned over her man.

"So did that idiot leave you all alone to yourself?" A familiar voice approached her from behind.

Emi swiftly wiped away her tears with the back of her hand, as Nemuri leanded against the railing beside her. The older woman, a pro hero-Midnight has been Shouta's friend for as long as she remember. She's one of the few people who knew him intimately, as well as how the relationship of the couple progressed.

Even, when they worked as Pro-Heros of neighbouring agnecies, Emi often found her visiting him which peaked her curousity in the R-rated Pro hero.

It was a relief to learn then that they were nothing more than friends. Inorder to learn more about the messy haired man, she invited the older woman out for coffee but instead got her own secrets caught.

"You are in love with Aizawa, are'nt you?" Nemuri had questioned her with a bemused glint in her eyes, which had left her 21yr old self blushing, with her face in her hands. She was one of the few who realized how deeply she loved the pro hero-Eraserhead.

"What's wrong, Ms.Joke? Tears don't suit our beloved smile hero."

"It's nothing. It's just me being silly."

Nemuri hummed in response as she helped Emi wipe off her smudged makeup.

"You know, woman have been throwing themselves at Aizawa for as long as I can remember."

"How is that supposed to make me feel better?" Emi fretted while waving her arms.

"It was'nt supposed to.Maybe, the next part will."

"Huh?"

"That dork is just to lazy or dense to realize that and do something about it. Besides,yours is the only goods I have seen him sneaking glances at."

She emphasized her point by smacking Emi on the butt, recieving a small shriek in return followed by a nervous giggle.

"Now that you are finally smiling, go back to the party and find that moron. Let elder sis here go back to her date and see what special he has planned."

Feeling slightly better, she composed herself and rejoined the room admist the dancing bodies. The room suddendlly felt stuffier and darker than she could remember as she struggled maneuvering across the room trying to find her beloved.

In her vain struggle, she ended up with twisting an ankle and breaking one of her heels. She was a woman on a mission and so she chucked away the useless pair and limped on one feet wobbling her way, grace long gone.

A sudden crash and yelp was heard causing everyone to panic and move about franatically. One of them ended up bumping into an already unbalanced Emi, as she lost her control and braced herself for the impact of the fall.

However, she found herself cradled into a strong chest with one arm on the back of her head and the other arm wrapped firmly across her waist. Breathing in the familiar scent, she looked up to find Shouta staring down at her with a concerned look as she gave him a victorious smirk over finally finding him.

The commotion caused the party to come to sudden halt as the room was fully lit and music stopped. Apparently, one of the guests had slipped and bumped into one of the decorative vase that caused the crashing sound.

Swooning over the fact that Shouta still held her protectively in his arms, she glanced over shoulder to the area of the commotion. Her faced paled in color, when she realized her thrown heels lying there was cause of the fall, burying her face back into his chest from embaraasement.

It did not take long for Shouta to put two and two together, as he breathed a long sigh before parting away from her still holding her arm to keep her steady. He casually walked across the room with everyone confused, watching him as he slowly picked up the abandoned pair of heels and walked back to his green haired woman.

"Kill me already." He could hear her mumble and as he bent on one knee and helped her wear her heels again as Emi resisted in vain.

Emi was red in the face as he stood up and he took off his coat and wrapped it around her waist grumbling about the damned dress, finally whispering into her ear.

"Be prepared to run when I give the cue."

Interwining his fingers into hers,he guided her across the crowded room, while she looked at thr ground not daring to meet the gazes on the door. As they reached the exit, he began sprinting and dragged her along. In a moment, he realized that she was struggling to keep up with her broken heel and therefore tossed her over his shoulder without a warning running as fast as he could.

Emi wrapped her arms around his neck and held tightly as he manouevered skillfully down the stairs into an empty deep corner of the grounds of the building. As he struggled to catch his breath, he heard her giggling like a silly teen. He roughly adjusted her to his eyelevel, hoisted up with his arms wrapped around her mid thigh, mindful of her wobbly situation.

She was staring down at him with a silly smile and arms resting on his shoulder, he gave her an annoyed look.

"I can't believe what just happened. We wrecked a formal event and actually fled the scene."  She laughed more heartily now.

"You did the wreckage."

"Well, you were my partner in crime when you fled away with me.My hero."

She grabbed his face affectionately with both palms, rewarding him a chaste kiss which suprised him immensely and caused the latter to blush. Despite, being bold with her jokes and flirting and several kisses that they shared, not a single one was ever intiated by Emi, this being the first.

Shouta suddenly became very aware of their proximity, with their faces just inches away and their bodies flushed against eachother. He slowly dropped her down with his palms resting on her hips, both unable to tear away from eachother. Staring down on her small form, his eyes railed across her facial features-eyes, nose and lips. Going further down, he noticed her bare neck and exposed collarbone; just for a moment he lingered on the form of her chest that was slightly pressed against him.

Realizing thay he had been caught staring, he let go off her completely while taking a step back and rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. Mirroring his own state of embarrassment, she took a moment to ponder and suddenly pointed an accusing finger at him.

"Midnight was right about you. However, you had a woman throw her chest in your full view, you never batted at eye.Why are you embarrased with me? "

''What woman? What are you talking about?"

"You know who. The one with the big doe eyes, who was holding your arm and you were whispering with?"

"Ah! That one. I don't know her at all. Wait, were you jealous? Was that why you were grumpy? " He asked with a cocky grin.

"That's not the point. If you don't know her at all, what were you whispering about?" She demanded embarrased as well as annoyed.

"I told her to let my arm go and that I was not interested. "

"Just like that?"

"Yeah, what else?" He answered her as if it the most obvious thing ever.

"Shouta, you are hilarious. I can't believe I was such an Idiot.Midnight was right all along." She beamed happily, arms held wide as she tipped to the side again while moving forward.

Shouta bent down once again on his knee, placing her arm on his right shoulder for support and helped her take off both heels as they no longer served any purpose. The moment he stood up, he saw her unwrapping his coat and prompting him to wear it again, which he obidiently complied. She spread her arms wide in anticipation at him with a soft smile.

"You owe me a dance!!"

"You know I don't dance Emi."

"Then just hold me." She bekoned him into her arms and he complied.

Wrapping her arms tighly around his neck, he bent down to embrace her tighly against him, relishing her warmth. She slightly swayed them both humming to herself with no music, but is just felt right.

"You know it's your fault for not being there. I would'nt have broken my heel if I were not searching for you. We could have been dancing to real music."

Shouta gave no response as he just hummed back in a low voice enjoying holding her close to him.

"You know I wore this black dress for you but you paid no attention at all.Don't you like it?"

"I don't."

She snapped back with a 'why' breaking the embrace resting her hands on his shoulders shaking him accusingly as he still held her.

"It's not your style and it's too revealing.I would rather have you wear something like this,when its just the two of us."

"Is that why you have'nt been paying any attention to me the whole night."

"Wrong. I paid attention, but it was rather difficult for me being around you wearing that. And as for being away, I went to get these thinking you were not well."

He pulled out a few caramel toffees from his pocket; she always felt better with some sugar in her system when she felt drained out. Emi picked a toffee out of his hand and ate it, while he put the rest back into his pocket.  Contemplating in her mind, she looked around to find no one around them and boldly pulled at his tie.

"You can still pay attention to me and it does not have to be difficult now."

This invitation was enough for him to turn her around, pushing her back against the wall and diving in for a hard kiss. His one arm grabbed her chin, while the other layed on the wall behind her as he leaned in for a deeper kiss. She kissed him back with the same fervour and passion, causing him to break the kiss and stare at her through half lidded eyes. Her lips lingered with the taste of caramel and desire in her eyes sent shivers down his spine.

He swooped in for another kiss, engaging her mouth and body in another bout of frenzy passion. The arm on the wall moved to her bare back rubbing every part of her exposed flesh. The fingers holding her chin skimmed through her bare shoulders to her hips pressing hard into them.They slowly moves south to graze the skin of her bare thigh peeking through the slit of her dress.

Emi felt a shiver down her spine at the touch as she  let out a satisfied sigh through her lips and he parted away before he lost more control. She missed the feeling of the tingling sensation that his stubble left after his kisses, as he was clean shaven today for the event.

She was wrong, this was one of the best nights of her life. They danced in eachother's embrace and kissed her senseless a minute before. Now he looking down at her with such loving eyes and that were meant only for her.

She was happy that she has lost the count of the times they've kissed since it didn't matter anymore.

"C'mon. Lets go home.Eri has probably already fallen asleep."

He said as slipped his coat on her bare arms and carried her on his back. She wrapped her arms around his neck and showered his cheeks with small kisses for being such a gentleman which he did not mind at all.

"Say Emi, do you want to sleep in my room instead of Eri. We should'nt disturb her this late."

"Yeah.Just sleeping.Nothing else."

"Just the two of us?" Emi blushed brightly at the thought.

"Sure that would be nice." said Emi as she hid her shy smile in the crook of his neck and Shouta held back his soft smile as they made their way to the U.A. teacher's quarter.

[robinrunsfiction]

A Little Less Sixteen Candles...

Pairing: Patrick Stump x Female Reader Rating: General Requested By: None Word Count: ~1,700 Author’s Note: So if you follow me on main, you know I’ve been a big whiny baby lately and so I decided to do my typical thing and turn it into a story

You were awakened by the sound of your phone ringing. Bleary eyed, you answered it without looking. “Hello?”

“Happy birthday dear!” You heard your mom cheer from the other end.

“Thanks,” you mutter before rolling over and looking at the clock. “Wait, Mom, it’s 5 AM, why couldn’t you have waited?” You asked sitting up further.

“It is? Honey, its 5 AM there, I thought you said it would be later?” You heard your Mom ask your Dad.

“No, I said to call her later,” you heard him reply. Your parents had retired and were traveling around the world but could never seem to grasp what time it was back home. You groaned and tried to get their attention.

“Hey, hey… guys… parents… hey!” You were practically shouting into your phone.

“Ok, well sorry to wake you, we’ll let you go back to sleep. Enjoy your day!” You mom said before hanging up. There was no way you were going back to sleep now, so apparently you were starting your birthday earlier than expected.

~

You walked into the office, sleep deprived and groggy. You could already hear a commotion and your heart skipped a beat, wondering if your coworkers remembered your birthday and had done something for you. Or maybe you had been sent flowers and they were admiring them. Then you noticed they were surrounding your coworker Gloria’s cubicle.

“Congrats sweetie!”

“Absolutely gorgeous!”

“He’s such a catch!”

Then you saw it. The ring on her finger was humongous and the sparkle was almost blinding.

“Oh, Mark proposed? Congratulations,” you said politely.

“Oh, (YN), did you just get here? You have to hear this whole story!” Another coworker said.

“Ok, ok, I’ll tell it again,” Gloria gushed. It didn’t take her too much encouragement to be the center of attention. She started in on her story about how her now husband-to-be took her out for their anniversary the night before. They went to the most expensive restaurant in town, then a horse-drawn carriage ride through the park where he later proposed.

You continued to smile politely as you listened. “Well, it sounds like the perfect night for you.”

“It really was,” Gloria gushed.

You continued on to drop off the box of donuts you brought in at the break room.

“Did you bring in treats for Gloria? That’s so nice of you!” One of the guys from the IT department asked.

“No, it’s my birthday!” you snapped back. A wave of embarrassment washed over you immediately after your outburst.

“Oh, sorry, happy birthday. I’m just gonna grab a glazed.” He said reaching past you carefully for a donut. He looked at you a little nervously as he hurried away. You went back to your desk to send out an email alerting everyone to the treats.

As the morning passed, you kept turning around expectantly as one of the administrative assistants brought bouquet after bouquet of flowers back to Gloria’s desk. A few people who walked by your desk wished you a happy birthday, but it always was a stop on the tour to see Gloria and her giant ring, the story of the engagement filling the department over and over again. You tried to turn your headphones up to block it out.

“(YN), are you coming along?” Your coworker Jenny asked.

You turned around, pulling out your headphones. “Sorry, what?”

“We’re gonna have a celebration lunch for Gloria, wanna come along?”

“Oh, umm, I have a lot to do, but you guys have fun.”

“Ok then,” she replied as she started to walk away, before turning back. “(YN), are you ok?”

“Yea, no, I’m fine.”

She nodded before walking away. You dug your phone out of your purse and saw you had a text from your closest friend Christine.

From Christine: Happy birthday boo! Hope you have an amazing day!

To Christine: Actually it sucks. No one seems to have remembered at all & my coworker got engaged so that’s all anyone cares about. Can you just like move back here so we could do something fun tonight??

From Christine: I’m sorry 😟 Wait I have an idea

To Christine: Plane ticket?

From Christine: NO, call Patrick

To Christine: Isn’t it weird to be like, “hey, we’ve gone out a couple dates now, wanna go out tonight? btw its my bday so pressure’s on, make it good!”

From Christine: I wouldn’t have set you up if I didn’t think he’d be a good guy for you. Just ask him if he wants to hang out

To Christine: Uuuuuugghhhhhh I want to but I’m just in such a shitty mood, I don’t want him to think im a whiny brat

From Christine: But you are kinda being one… Said with love of course

To Christine: K thanks for the dragging, I gotta get back to work

~

On your drive home, you finally had peace and quiet with which to think. You were jealous of Gloria. Not that she had gotten the engaged, that wasn’t something you were concerned with at the moment, and the way her fiancée did it was way over the top, which you heard described at least 2 dozen times that day, certainly wasn’t your style. You were jealous of all the attention she was getting because you thought you would at least get a small portion of it since it was your birthday. You felt sad, forgotten and unimportant.

When you got home, you opened the Facebook app on your phone. A couple birthday greetings from miscellaneous relatives, but that was it. ‘No one uses Facebook anymore’ you reasoned, trying to push back the feeling that no one cared about you on your special day. You scanned Instagram, Twitter; no shout outs, no posts dedicated to you like you sometimes saw on those platforms. You felt like you had been punched in the gut. Everyone forgot about your birthday.

“Now I know how Molly Ringwald felt,” you muttered as you laid down on the couch and turned on the TV, scrolling through the channels, looking for something to distract you. A few minutes of wallowing later, there was a knock at your door. You answered without checking first and were surprised to find Patrick standing at the other side.

“Patrick, what are you doing here?”

“I heard it was your birthday. I asked Christine if she knew if you had any plans, and she said you didn’t and you were having a bad day, so,” he held up a bouquet of bright flowers and a package of cupcakes.

“You did this for me?” you said looking at the flowers. “Christine didn’t put you up to this, did she?”

Patrick shook his head. “Nope, just told me that you’re free and having a hard day.”

You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes, so you quickly turned to the kitchen to put the flowers in a vase.

“Yea, my birthday was kinda overlooked because of someone else at work,” you sniffled. “But saying that out loud makes me feel kinda stupid,” you said putting the flowers on your table.

“Don’t feel bad, it’s understandable,” Patrick said sympathetically.

“I’m sorry, you’re being so nice and I’m being a terrible host. Do you want something to drink?”

“You’re fine,” he replied with a kind smile. “What do you have?”

“I have, umm,” you looked in your fridge and cabinets. “Water, coffee, tea, and hot chocolate.”

“I haven’t had hot chocolate in years!”

“Ok then,” you set to work heating up some water and Patrick unpacked the cupcakes onto a plate.

“Want to watch a movie, or listen to music?”

“Whatever you want,” you replied coming out to the living room with the hot chocolate where Patrick was waiting with the cupcakes.

“Come on (YN), it’s your day, you pick.”

You groaned as you sank down onto the couch. “Can I just have a hug?”

Patrick opened his arms wide and you wrapped your arms around him, resting your face against the crook of his neck. He held you close as the tears of frustration started to wet the collar of his shirt.

“Hey, it’s ok,” he murmured while rubbing your back. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize you were having a bad birthday until late. I really just want you to have a good day.”

You pulled back and wiped your eyes. “Thank you, Patrick. You being here really makes everything better. I just feel dumb for even caring this much. ”

“Don’t feel dumb. (YN), listen, I know we’ve gone out only a couple of times, but I really like you. You deserve the world,” Patrick said emphatically as he brushed away a tear from your cheek. “I was gonna ask this the next time we went out, but no time like the present. Will you be my girlfriend?” he asked with puppy dog eyes from behind his glasses.

You couldn’t help by smile. “Really? Even after I wrecked the collar of your shirt with my makeup?” You said with a soft laugh as you reaching up to touch the spots your mascara left.

“I couldn’t care less about the shirt, I care about you, (YN).”

“I care about you too,” you replied. “I’d love to be your girlfriend,” you grinned.

He reached out and gently cupped your cheek, pulling you to him in a soft kiss. The warmth and kindness spread throughout you and made everything feel right.

“Let’s get to that cocoa before it gets cold,” Patrick said when you broke the kiss. You giggled and grabbed a cupcake before thinking of something you needed to do.

To Christine: Thanks for the best present ever

From Christine: What’s that?

To Christine: A new boyfriend 💖

From Christine: WAIT WHAT?! Did he come over? I just told him he should text you bc your birthday was a major disappointment

To Christine I’ll fill you in later 😁

You tossed your phone aside as you settled in under Patrick’s arm.

“How bout a movie?” he said flipping channels.

“Is Sixteen Candles on Netflix?”

Masterlist

[heavensentfanfic]

Chapter 23 - Family Reunion [COMPLETE]

Jaclyn (face change)

Chris thought it’d be a good idea to invite me to dinner before my flight back to LA tonight. He said it’d be “good for me to see them together” and maybe I can be “genuinely happy for them” — some bullshit like that. He knows I’m bad at playing nice.

My pink off-the-shoulders dress blew in the warm wind as I waited for someone to open the door. I prayed it’d be Chris, but of course…

“Hey!” She answered so cheerfully. Fuck! She’s even prettier in person. “Chris is upstairs doing...I have no idea...” She probably didn’t know about my little act with Chris a few days ago. If she did, there’s no way I’d be inside of her house right now. Unless she was planning to kill me where I seduced him.

I was greeted with comforting smells that I haven’t sensed in a long time. Fried chicken, greens, cornbread, and monkey bread baking in the oven. My heart wanted to burst from my chest. Could she get anymore perfect? “Would you like something to drink? Water? Long Island? Pink moscato?”

“Long island will do just fine,” I smiled. I needed something strong that would hit me quick in order to get over the fact that I actually love Chris’ girlfriend. She’s making it impossible for me to dislike her in the slightest.

I took a seat at the bar in a swivel bar stool and swallowed about a quarter of my drink. I also swallowed my pride and decided to start conversation. “How’d you and Chris meet?”

“Through some friends whom will be joining us later...” she washed dishes as she continued her story, “We all went out to a club together — my first night here — and he and I just hit it off.” A shrug.

“Hm...” I smiled a bit. “He’s always been the type to be so...nice.” I took a sip of my drink and the doorbell rang.

“Chris!” Nohea yelled. Her accent is beautiful too. “Ty and Ari are here!”

Wait a minute. Did she just say...?

I swiveled the chair so it’d face the front door.

“Heeey!” Her voice rang in my ear and brought back the worst memories in high school. The couple, and Nohea, met me at the bar stool.

“Jaclyn, this is Ty and —“

“Ariana Taylor.” I faked a smile, but she, however, did not. Her face was as annoyed and stale as it could possibly get. “We’ve crossed paths before. Nice to see you again.”

“Mm...” was all that left Ariana’s mouth. She walked around me and sat at he nicely set dining table.

“Okay then.” Nohea let out an awkward laugh and I chugged the rest of my drink. “I’m gonna get Chris. You two just...catch up.”

Fuck catching up. I need another drink

Nohea

Dinner was more awkward than I initially expected it to be, but less awkward that I thought after Ari and Jaclyn’s re-introduction. I still had no idea what that was about, but as long as everyone was enjoying the food, I was okay.

Ariana

I can’t believe this bitch wanted to play nice with me. I was so glad that I would never see her again after graduation. But boom -- here this hoe go. I’ve had to put up . with her bullying and bullshit for seven painful emotional years. She made my life a living hell for my brother and I. My whole fucking family. Chris knows it too, so I don’t get why he still hangs around the bitch. 

“You good, Ari?” Nohea asked. I nodded slow, staring at Jaclyn as she engaged in conversation with Tyler. That made my blood boil. How dare you talk to a bitch that you know I hate? And how dare you talk to my nigga when you know I hate yo’ ass?

She can keep it up if she wants to. This time, it’ll be her blood shed on the damn ground instead of my brother’s.

Chris

Dinner was over and Jaclyn was about to go to the airport. She’d said her goodbyes to everyone, except Ariana, so I was outside walking her to her car. 

“Did you enjoy yourself?” I asked. She leaned her back against the car as I stood in front of her.

“Other than that one little thing in there, yes I did.” She laughed.

“Aye, chill out. You konw Ari is like a sister to me. Y’all both are. Y’all gotta talk about what happened and fix that shit. Fast.” 

She rolled her eyes, “okay, dad. I hat to admit, but I love your girlfriend.

“Oh really?” I smirked. “What about her?” 

“Everything!” She fake cried. She told me how much she loved her cooking, how she decorated the house, how she treats me, and how beautiful she is.

“Thank you, Jay. That means a lot. I told you you’d love her. No matter how much you didn’t wanna believe it.”

“Yeah yeah.” Jaclyn rolled her eyes. “I gotta get goin’. I’ll see you in a few days?”

“Of course.” I gave her a hug, wrapped him around her neck and kissed her head. “Call me when you get back.”

“Okay, Simba. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Nohea

Ari and Ty left a little after Jaclyn did. I tried to talk to Aria bout Jaclyn while Chris was outside, but she wasn’t going for it. I decided to ask Chris about their history once he got out of the shower.

“Babe, I have a question.”

“Wassup?” He slid on some basketball shorts and laid next to me.

“What’s going on between Arianna and Jaclyn?”

“Ah...” he scratched the back of his next, “...just some drama from high school they never got over. Nothin’ major.”

“Hmm, okay.” I pushed the thought of the pair actually having problems to the back of my head and cuddled under Chris. I was ready to beat Jaclyn’s ass once I saw how she looked at Ari. My girl always knows how to spot a fake bitch way before I do. But, out of respect for Chris (and his name being on the deed of the house), I let her stay.

“What you got goin’ on this week?” Chris asked while playing in my hair.

“Meeting on Friday at two and a lounge appearance Saturday night. Why?”

“We ain’t been on a date in a minute.” I immediately looked up at Chris. I was grinning hard as hell while he was trying to his his smirk. 

“Where we goin’?” I asked. He shrugged his shoulders. “Tell meee!” I quickly sat up and straddled his waist. 

“You gotta wait.” He laughed.

“Gimme a hint,” I pouted. 

“Aight, uh...you’ve never been there before.”

“That doesn’t help at all, Christopher!” 

“You’re beautiful. I love your accent.” He said, trying to change the subject.

“That’s not gonna work. Give me another --” He sat up and kissed me slowly, tightening the grip his palms had on my ass. “Chris...” I moaned.

“Hm?” His lips moved from mine to my neck.

“I hate you.” I bit my lip and let out a light moan.

“Mm...I know.”

Then I shut my ass up and let Chris have his way with me. 

Tyler

Ariana was quiet as hell on the way home. She wasn’t even tlaking when we got back to the loft.

“Baby, talk to me.” I said to her. She stayed quiet and continued to walk into our bedroom. “Taylor!” I yelled.

“What?” She spat. “What the fuck do you want? You already know why I’m mad, so don’t fucking as me no dumb shit, Jones.”

“Who the fuck are you talking to?” I exclaimed. I grabbed her arm and turned her around so she was facing me. “Yes, I know why you’re mad. I also know that we should talk about it instead of you actin’ like a damn child.” I let go of her arm and sat her on the bed.

“You were being nice to every-damn-body tonight and now you wanna be mean to me?” She yelled. I took a deep breath before I said something I’d regret. 

“What are you talking about, Arianna?”

“You were havin’ a whole conversation wit’ the bitch at dinner and you wanna act like shit is okay!”

“Ariana can you think for a minute? Nohea don’t know shit ‘bout Jaclyn. If I wouldn’t have talked to her, then all the business woulda been out and it woulda’ been hell for everybody. You know that.”

“Ty, I don’t give a damn. At all! You know everything that went down -- you were there. You should feel the same way I do about her lying ass.”

“Ari, you just being bitter. That shit happened two years ago.”

“I’m being bitter? Are you serious? She almost ruined my while family. Don’t tell me I should forgive and forget. It’s fuck her forever -- I promise you that.”

The Next Day - Ariana

I woke up with some bad nerves. So bad, my hands started sweating. I needed to tell Nohea about everything that happened between Jaclyn, my family, and I. 

I showed up to Nohea’s Cascade Falls crib, unannounced, at 9 AM. Early, I know. I rang the doorbell over and over until I heard the door unlock. Thankfully, it was my pretty ass friend and not her tall ass boyfriend.

“Ari? W...” she yawned “...what are you doing here? It’s 9 AM.”

“I know. We need to talk.” I let myself in and immediately walked down to the studio. Nohea hesitated at first, but she eventually followed me.

“What’s going on?” she asked once she was finally seated in her chair. There was another seat, but I couldn't bring myself to sit down. I was so anxious.

"Jaclyn isn't the sweet girl she was last night. She's a bully and a fucking liar!" I blurted.

"Ari, where is this coming from?"

"Jaclyn and I went to middle school together. She was popular and she would always bully me. My brother was a sophomore at Mays so he couldn't protect me." My heart raced thinking about what I had gone through with her. "One day, I decided to fight back. I beat her ass but she was so embarrassed; she decided to hate me forever."

"What? She doesn't like you because of a fight in middle school?" Nohea asked. She sounded confused and acted like I was wasting her time.

"Let me finish..." I took a deep breath and continued, "It was 2013, senior year, two weeks before graduation. Everyone from our side of the city went to this party near the AUC..."

*2013 - Graduation Party - Ariana*

This house was way too packed. Niggas from Westlake, Mays, and every other school in the SWATS pulled up. Everybody was either drunk or high, so I'll let someone else do the math. Westside niggas with alcohol don't mix very well. I was outside, being patient, waiting for shit to go down. It was almost 1 AM when I head commotion coming from the front yard.

"Aye, T..." I said to my friend, "...let's go." We got up from the couch and followed everyone toward the house. The closer I got, the more I could hear my brother's voice. Him and Tremaine must be ready to fight some nigga from the Southside...again. "D!" I yelled, pushing through the crowd. "Dez what the fuck y'all get into now?"

"Ari not right now." D said to me. I looked passed Dez and Tre to find the dude they were arguing with. Of course, it's this hoe Jaclyn's boyfriend, Isaiah. 

"Why the hell are y'all always getting into some bullshit? Especially with this nigga!" I yelled. Of course, Dez and Tre ignored me. "Come on, T." I rolled my eyes and started walking down the street to my car. I was so tired of Dez and his antics, he never knew when to let shit go.

About 30 seconds later, the gun shots rang out. There were four. My thoughts went straight to my brother. I couldn't think about anything else. "Dez!" I screamed. I turned around and started hauling ass toward him. Everything moved so slow. My heartbeat. My breathing. Everything.

"Ariana!" I heard T yell from behind me. "No!" She grabbed my arm and started running with me toward my car. At this point, I was furious. Didn't even know if my brother was dead or alive...

*Present Day - Ariana*

"So where does Jaclyn come into all this?" Nohea asked.

"After the shots went off, everyone ran. Even her. The next day, she found out that her boyfriend was the one that got shot. He died at Grady an hour later. Everyone that was there knew who shot Isaiah, except Jaclyn and I. But of course, no one wanted to speak up. So, Jaclyn thought it'd be cute to be the only witness even though she didn't see shit. She accused my brother of being her boyfriend's murderer."

"Ari...wow..." Nohea pulled me into her arms and hugged me. It was the best thing I could get in that moment.

"My brother spent one and a half years in Fulton County Jail before they saw that he was innocent. She almost ruined my family. This shit has been bothering me for so long. I  haven't seen her since the vigil we had for him at Westlake. And then she shows up here playing nice?"

"I had no idea, Ari. If Chris had been honest with me, I would've never agreed to her coming."

"Don't be too hard on him when you kill him." *Chris*

I got back from the gym with Ty around two o'clock. A nigga felt  tired, hungry, and so ready to lay up with my girl. And take a bomb ass nap. "Babygirl! I'm home!" I yelled. Walking up to the room, I could tell that the vibe was a little off. Usually, Nohea would open the door and greet me with her gorgeous ass smile, but she didn't do that.

As soon as I opened the door, I knew I was in trouble.

"Chris, please sit down." Nohea said.

"Damn. No kiss? No hello?" I let out a sigh and sat at the foot of the bed. Standing in from of me, she looked so good in her crop top and Nike sweats. I wanted to eat her up right there, the fact that she was mad at me made it even worse. 

"Ari told me everything about her and Jaclyn." I sighed, rolled my eyes, and put my head in my hands. "My best friend, Chris..."

"My best friend, Nohea..."

"Oh bullshit. I've never even heard you speak of her until you wanted to invite her over. Ari'a brother almost got life because of her! And you stood by her the whole time?"

"I'm saying I don't have to be loyal to Ariana. I only have to be loyal to you and Jay. That's it."

"Chris, being loyal to me means being loyal to my friends and the relationships I have with them. You knew Jaclyn was wrong and you lied to me about knowing!"

"So can you do the same for me? Can you respect my relationship with Jaclyn? And don't you dare bring up shit about lying," I demanded.

"Chris..." she sighed, "...you don't care, so fuck it." Nohea waked to the closet and grabbed her purse and keys.

"What, Okalani? What do you wanna talk about? I'm sorry I lied to you, but Jaclyn has been there for me since day one."

"You need to think about how you treat people, Chris. You're so selfish. As long as it benefits you and the people you fuck with it, it's okay. But if it has something to do with your fucking girlfriend and the people I love, you don't give a fuck. I'm starting not to give a fuck about you." With that, she walked out of our room and downstairs. I heard the front door open, close, and her car start in the driveway.

"God damn, bruh..." I said to myself. To destress, I took a shower and played 6lack's newest album throughout the room. After my shower, I decided to lay down and take a nap. As soon as my touched the pillow, Jaclyn called me. I took a deep breath and answered. "Wassup?"

"Nothing, " she said. "I kinda wanted to hear your voice. How are you?"

"I'm tired."

"That's it? You sound like you going through something."

"Nah. Lemme call you later." I hung up without letting her say another word.

 I need to do some self-reflection after this nap.