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ikleesfiction · 4 years ago

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Will you follow through if I fall for you?

Fandom : One Chicago Word count : 2,276 words Author Notes : Rated M Disclaimer

Previously on this fic : Part 1 🞂 Part 2 🞂 Part 3 🞂 Part 4

Part 5

Jay didn’t text or call you further until the next day. You feel your phone vibrating on the desk as you are working with your headphones on. You see Jay’s name on the display before you pick it up, “Hello?”

“Hey, Y/N! I’m downstairs. Let's do the dinner date now. You haven’t had dinner yet, have you?” Jay spontaneously announces.

It was just past 7 PM. You have been working since 1 PM and didn’t notice the time goes. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Couldn’t you give me more time to prepare?”, you sound annoyed but he can hear the smile in your tone.

“Don't want you to accuse me of bailing again. So I have to be sure I can make it”, Jay says grinningly.

“Why don’t you come up and wait in my living room?”, you let Jay know your apartment number and buzz him up before you disconnect the call. Soon you hear knocks on your door.

“Hi, come on in”, you usher Jay into your place. “Sit wherever you like, make yourself at home. If you’d like to drink, feel free to take it from the fridge. I’m gonna go get ready”, you tell him.

As you turn your back to leave, Jay grabs your wrist gently and turns you around. His hand then cups your face tenderly and he leans to kiss your lips. You freeze up for a tick before melt into it. Your hand moves to his chest, palm over his denim jacket.

Jay pulls away after a while, “Hi. I miss you”, he murmurs. You just blink owlishly and stay speechless.

“Now you can go get ready”, he commands you with a smile. You voluntarily follow his order. Jay shakes his head, amused. He was being honest when he said he misses you. For the whole day, he was hoping the unit wouldn’t get any urgent cases. Once it’s time to clock out, Jay quickly moved out of the district. The kiss though been something that he wanted to do since he met you at Will’s place. When Jay saw you opened the door before, he thought you’re cute with faded pink shorts that were drowned by an oversized white t-shirt. He just felt like it was the right time to properly kiss you.

As he waits for you to get ready, Jay looks around at your place. It’s an open-plan apartment. He can see almost every corner of it from the living room. A flat tv was hanging on the wall, in front of a cozy couch and a simple coffee table. On one corner, there is a small desk table with a mismatched but comfy looking chair. A laptop, headphones, and a microphone are sitting on the table. Next to it, there are an electric keyboard and a guitar. Cables plug and scatter around messily. He figures that’s where you do your work.

Jay walks to the kitchen to take a bottle of water from the fridge. You don’t have a dining table. Only a kitchen island with chairs on its outer side. On the fridge door, he can see a training schedule and some recipe cards. There are no pictures or drawings. Actually, he cannot find any family photos or even band posters around the place. The place looks kind of bare without any personal decoration. Jay wonders how long you’ve been living in this place.

Fifteen minutes later, you come out of your room in a cream-colored blouse and skinny blue jeans. Because Chicago weather always feels chilly to you, you put on a black light-jacket that fell slightly above your wrists. “Okay, I’m ready”, you fluff your hair a bit. You don’t have time to style it the way you like. So brush and fingers should do.

“You clean up nice”, Jay compliments you. He offers his hand for you to take.

“Well, thanks for the heads-up”, you respond jokingly as both of you step out of your place after you lock it down.

You and Jay casually chat while he drives. “How was your day?”, you genuinely want to know.

“It’s good. Any day without getting shot at is actually good. The gang told me to say hi to you, by the way”, he informs you.

“Really? How many people are there in your team? I was lowballing for breakfast the other day. I hope it’s enough”, you tilt your head curiously.

“No, you were great. No one was left hungry. Let’s see, there is my partner, Hailey Upton. We got Ruzek, Olinsky, and Dawson. Hank Voight is our boss. Who else did I miss? Hmm…Oh, Burgess and Atwater! So there’s eight of us”, Jay counts.

“And Sergeant Platt at the desk”, you remind him.

Jay lets out a laugh, “Right, that’s sweet of you to remember her”

“Well, no one can go in 21st District without her permission. So I have to take good care of her”, you humorously explain your reason.

Soon Jay parks his car. “The restaurant is just around the corner”, he shows you as you step out of his car. You walk side by side to the restaurant.

“Dawson told me this place is good but I’ve never been here before”, Jay informs you when he opens the restaurant door for you.

“Great, I like unknown places”, you cheerfully comment.

There is a friendly-looking older guy greets them at the door. “Hola! Welcome! My name is Carlos. Are you looking for a table for two?”

Jay gives him an affirmative nod, “Yes, please”

Carlos then guides both of you to a table. He lets you settle down and gives menu cards to review. A few minutes later, he comes back, “Ready to order?”

Jay looks at you questioningly. “Ah, can you tell me more about this one?”, you ask Carlos, pointing out an appetizing picture of a dish on the menu. The discussion is certainly longer than normal, but Carlos happily explains it to you. Finally, you pick your choice and so does Jay.

“I’m sorry. It must’ve been annoying to listen to”, you apologize to Jay once Carlos left.

“Not at all", Jay brushes it off. "It is actually interesting to see. The guy was ready to narrate all the tales about each dish when you ask”

“Yeah, thankfully he’s patient about it. Other places might have kicked me out before I can decide”, you snort a laugh. “That happened before. We were in New York. My best friend, Alex is a DJ. He was scheduled to play a gig at a club there. We planned to have an early dinner before going to the club. It was a fairly fancy restaurant. I remembered asking at least three questions for each dish before the waitress lost her patience, accused me of pranking her, and kicked us out. We were too shocked to say anything”, you giggle through your story. “Whenever we try new places now, I’m not allowed to order anymore”

"You're not just being polite when you mentioned you like unknown places", Jay remarks after laughing at your story.

"No, I truly like it. When we travel for work, we like to try places recommended by locals. Sometimes they do well, sometimes they don't. That's the fun in that", you justify.

"Is that why your place is rather bare? Because you travel all the time?", he pries.

"Ah no, not really. I.. I haven't been staying there long. Two months now", you hesitantly unfold.

"Oh, where do you live before?", he continues to probe.

"Amsterdam", you quickly respond, wishing he doesn't ask more about it.

"That's far. What made you move here?", Jay intrigues, unaware of your discomfort.

Before you can reply, a waiter comes with an appetizer and wine. He pours the wine into both of yours and Jay's glass, then leaves the bottle on the table. You softly exhale your relief, grateful for the distraction.

“Hmm, this is good”, you say after sipping your wine and tasting the food. “This place is very nice", as you look around the restaurant. "A good recommendation you received here, Jay”

"Yeah, Antonio rarely stirs us wrong", Jay agrees with you.

"Antonio is Gabby's brother, right?", you ask him.

"Yeah, you know her?", Jay returns with a tad surprised.

"Uhuh, Met her at Molly's", you answer shortly. It is not exactly a lie, but it is not the whole truth either. You did come to Molly's the night before the incident where Firehouse 51 saved you.

"Seriously? I can't believe we never met before. Our unit is a regular there! Even Will also frequently goes there", Jay baffles. You just giggle in response.

Easy conversation flows during dinner. Both of you certainly enjoy it. Soon the meal is finished and dessert is polished. While Jay settles the bill, you compliment the staff for the nice meal. Carlos bids farewell at the door with a small package of dulce de leche cookies. "Hope you enjoy the rest of your night!", he wishes you and Jay goodbye.

“What if we take a walk for a while, sober up from the wine?”, Jay suggests to you after leaving the restaurant. “Okay”, you readily agree.

Jay holds your hand when you both stroll along the sidewalk. The sky is quite clear. Even though you cannot see a lot of stars, the moon shines prettily. Both of you glance at each other a few times. Until you lock eyes with him, Jay stops his walk and turns to look at you. “Gosh, you’re gorgeous”, he states before kissing you tenderly on your lips.

One kiss turns two and another and another. It got more intense for each kiss. You’re not sure how long until you have to take a breather.

“Might be better if we go back now?” you sigh to his lips. He steals another kiss before replying, “Okay, we’re going now.”

◢◤

Your hand is shaking when you try to open your apartment door with Jay’s hands wrap around your waist. His body presses on your back while his lips nibble on your neck. Once you get in, you lead him to your bedroom. Jay sheds his and your clothes one by one in between kisses along the way. Both of you are topless when you reach your bedroom. You push him lightly to your bed and straddle him on his lap. The make-out session keeps going for a while. His hands then move from your ass to take off your jeans. He rolls on top of you and starts to peel your jeans from your legs.

You suddenly realize that he’s going to see the scar on your left leg, a souvenir from the incident. Jay can feel you stiffen when his knuckles graze your scar. “You okay?”, he tentatively asks you.

“Ah, yeah. I don’t know how I could forget about it. I’m sorry. I could cover it so you...”, you falter.

“What? What are you talking about?”, Jay confusedly interrupts.

You sit up and pointedly look at your left leg. There’s a long jagged line that goes along your left hamstring. Jay delicately touches it, but you jerk your leg away in reflex, “Sorry! Am I hurting you?”, Jay sounds worried.

“No, you’re not”, you fall back to your pillow and avoid looking at Jay. He moves to your right side and leans on his left elbow, facing you as he waits for you to speak.

“There’s was an incident, a couple months ago”, you begin to fill him in. “Alex was playing a gig at a nightclub on Fulton River District. I assisted him behind the stage”, you shudder as you recount the nightmare.

“One moment everything went alright, but then I saw the stage started to wobble. It collapsed quickly. I pulled Alex out of the way but I moved too slow...” Jay stays silent but holds your right hand and kisses the back of it.

“I was trapped under the rubble. My leg got pinned. Until Firehouse 51 pulled me out of there”. Jay instinctively squeezes your hand. “Torn the ligaments, got some nerve damage too. Been working on it ever since”, you unreliably conclude your story.

Jay is quiet for a while, but his hand moves to caress your face. “I’m gonna buy drinks for the whole 51 next time I see them at Molly’s”, he declares and then closes the gap to your lips. “For them to save you, so I can have you here, with me, right now”

He continues to kiss your neck, down to your shoulder, on top of your breast, your ribs. His lips keep moving south until he gets to your thigh. You try to pull your left leg away, but he is just not having it. He peppers your thigh and knee with soft kisses. “You don’t have to do that”, you whisper. “I know it’s off-putting”

“That’s where you are wrong. I see this as a beautiful sign that you survive” Jay fiercely says. “I got scars too, Y/N. Some even invisible. Are you appalled about my scars?”, he questions you.

“Of course not!” you exclaim.

“So you understand that I am not revolted by it”, his eyes look at you sincerely, before he puts your left leg on his right shoulder to kiss your scar.

Soon, he takes off his trousers and underwear, follows by pulling yours off. When he crawls back on top of you, you circle your hands around his neck and pull him down to kiss his lips passionately.

"I'm so glad I got a chance to meet you", Jay says before continues the night to make love to you.

Next on this fic : Part 6

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@shipshipshipau @itsdesiree86 @thevelvetseries @annaallicce

#fanfiction #jay halstead x reader #original work #one chicago #one chicago fic #chicago pd tv #chicago pd fic #jay halstead fic #jay halstead imagine #wyftiiffy

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petals-and-bullets · 4 years ago

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Insecurities

Pairing: Izzy x Reader

Word Count: 2326

Info: Anon request! ‘Hello if you have time could you please write a smut and fluff fic with Izzy where Izzy is feeling really self conscious like maybe he doesn’t like his nose or his appearance and he doesn’t think he’s good enough for the reader but she reassures him that he’s perfect 💕 ‘

A/N: Sorry for taking so long! This is my longest fic yet, so I hope you all enjoy it! 💕 💕

There were two things he missed about being high; the high, for one, but the confidence that seemed to surround him whenever he did a line. He could just walk around with no fear of its repercussions; he wasn’t afraid of anything. Hell, he was brave enough to start dealing, but as the years passed and the band started to get its claws in the music industry, he fell deeper into the embrace of the same thing he was dealing. It wasn’t until he saw maggots in a drawer full of screws that he realised he had fallen in too deep.

Perhaps becoming sober was a good thing. It meant a lot for one special person – you. He could tell in your body language that you were far more relaxed and actually happy that he was sober whenever he was with you. He wasn’t hidden in the darker corners of the house, his eyes drooping as his head lolled. It made you actually enjoy spending time with him, let alone actually have a chance to get to know him. The real him, not just the same Izzy that was plastered on the front pages of Rolling Stone and Kerrang!. The only thing that seemed to be a problem was Izzy’s libido. He seemed to be happy to kiss and hold you as close as he could, but he just seemed to avoid doing anything further than that. It… Frightened you. You immediately looked to yourself, wondering if he had stumbled across someone else while he was on tour and had fallen in love with them instead. Then, after a week or so of self-doubt, you realised it probably wasn’t you. It was the first time in years that Izzy was actually sober. Perhaps he just… didn’t have an interest in sex anymore.

You shook the hair out of your eyes as you finished drying the plate in your hand, the man in question sitting quietly behind you at the kitchen table. A cigarette hung loosely between his lips, and he was hunched over what seemed to be a magazine – and you knew immediately what he was reading. Since his departure, the media had seemed to hound him, egged on by the anger of Axl and Slash, who offered insults and unclear excuses for his leaving. You didn’t blame them; Axl had been one of Izzy’s closest friends since they were kids, and Slash and Izzy got along like a house on fire.

But Izzy had been collapsing under it all, and it wasn’t like he had woken up one morning and decided he’d had enough.

A sigh escaped you as you placed the plate in the cupboard, tossing the towel over your shoulder before you gently pulled the magazine away from him, your lips bowing into a frown at the rather unattractive photo they had used of him – it was probably when he was arrested for pissing on a plane. That wasn’t a pleasant experience for you to learn about, sitting in a police station at 2.30 in the morning in your pyjamas while listening to your boyfriend ramble and rave about how he hadn’t done anything wrong, and claims of drug-induced paranoia.

“Iz, baby, you don’t have to read this shit. It’s not important.”

“They’re acting like I’ve killed the band.”

“Let them. They’re upset and confused, and you said it yourself; Slash’s drug addiction and Duff’s drinking is going to kill them before the band itself dies. You’d only blame yourself for that, and then you’d be back on the drugs.”

You tilted your head as your boyfriend sighed, and you frowned before you moved to sit in his lap, gently brushing his hair from his face. Despite the tender gesture, he almost flinched from your delicate touch, and his face gave way to a grimace as if he suddenly couldn’t stand being touched by you. After a few moments of watching him, you sighed and got up, catching the towel that slid off your shoulder in the process.

“I’ll finish cleaning up,” you murmured, and you watched as he heaved a sigh and left the room.

Once everything was scrubbed clean and put away, then reorganised, you headed up the stairs with the full intention of having a shower and then heading to bed. The bathroom door was slightly ajar when you entered the bedroom, and you could faintly see steam slipping out through the crack; Izzy must’ve grabbed a shower while you were washing the dishes, you supposed, but you stopped at the sight of him hesitantly touching his nose and then the rest of his face. His brows were furrowed as low as they could go, and his lips curled into the same grimace that he showed whenever he was forced into an interview that he didn’t want to attend.

Then it hit you. The shying away, the avoidance of even talking about sex – his sobriety may have given you back your Izzy, but it also dragged up uncomfortable thoughts and insecurities.

“You’re gorgeous,” you spoke up, stepping into the bathroom and closed the door behind you. He looked at you with a raised brow, almost in annoyance, before he turned his gaze back to the mirror, swiping his hand over the glass to wipe away the condensation in order to glower at the pair of hazel eyes staring back.

“I’m not joking, Izzy. You are.”

“Y/N, darling, you don’t have to keep up the act. You can just admit you’re tired of me and go.”

“Izzy. Stop it. I’m serious,” you walked forward, and gently guided his hand from his face before you replaced it with your own, your fingertips dancing over his skin gently. His cheeks had filled out a little more, and his eyes weren’t as sunken as they had been in the past. Sobriety really did do wonders for him, you mused, before you allowed your lips to follow the trail your fingertips left. His cheeks were warm, and the soft sound of his breathing only lulled you into continuing your tenderness more, not even hesitating before you trailed your kisses down his sharp jaw and his neck, your hands moving to finish unbuttoning the blouse hanging loosely off his torso. Once your task was complete, you slid the fabric from his shoulders and let it drop onto the floor, only for it to be joined with his belt and jeans. Izzy seemed to have relaxed more under your ministrations, and his hands rose to grab at your hips gently, pulling you closer in order to press his own kisses along the bridge of your nose and your cheeks.

“… Still haven’t showered, you know,” he murmured against your skin, before he leaned down to press his nose into the crook of your neck, inhaling the faint scent of your perfume. It was one of his favourite scents; you smelled like home, like his mom, like everything that was right in the world. It was soothing.

“That can wait. Come on,” you responded, before you grabbed his hand and pulled him into the bedroom, your lips curved into a warm smile at the sight of a genuinely relaxed Izzy, and you guided him to sit on the bed before perching in his lap delicately. His hands slid up and down your thighs gently as you watched each other, not yet wanting to break the peaceful silence that hung in the air. After a few more moments of staring at each other, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his gently, your hands rising to grip at his shoulders as his fingertips wandered closer to your core.

The pair of you kissed slowly and tenderly, taking your time; after all, there were no more interviews, concerts, photoshoots, or tours to rip him from you. No, it was just the two of you in the dark room, the faint taste of tobacco staining his lips. He pulled away for a moment, his hazel eyes regarding your face curiously before he suddenly pushed you to lie back on the bed, his hands dragging the hem of your shirt up until he had pulled the cloth from your body completely. Sitting back, he tilted his head and smiled softly at the redness in your cheeks, only to blink when you reached up, wrapped your arms around his neck, and flipped him onto his back.

“My turn,” you whispered, and gently pressed a finger against his lips in order to ensure that he stayed quiet. After a moment, he raised a brow and parted his lips, sucking your fingertip into his mouth while you contemplated your next steps. It was rare for Izzy to let himself be under you, and yet you were there, straddling his hips and admiring the way his chest rose and fell with each breath. Eventually, you slid your finger from his mouth and trailed it down his chin and neck, pausing when you reached his clavicle. After a moment, you leaned down and replaced your finger with your lips. He tasted just like you remembered, and you stifled a soft moan and you trailed kisses down his chest – and silently thanked everything in the universe for the fact that Izzy hadn’t dared to move and disturb your affections. Gently, you travelled further down his body until you reached his groin, your warm breath fanning across his skin before you smiled and pressed a delicate kiss to his hip.

“Just relax and let me show you how much I love you, Iz,” you murmured against his skin, looking up at him through your lashes before you parted your lips and licked a line across his thigh, stifling a snicker at the annoyed huff that escaped from Izzy at the fact you were avoiding the very hard matter at hand. Eventually, you pressed kisses across his skin until you reached his cock, watching his face intently as you licked a stripe up the underside of his length. His stifled sigh only urged you on more, and you gladly took him into your mouth as your hand slid up his leg to gently entangle your fingers with his. What was a gentle grip on your hand turned into a tight one, and what were gentle sighs and pleasured breaths turned into low moans and what could only be described as whimpers left his mouth, only for him to choke a little in shock.

“Socks!”

You sat up, and you were greeted with a pair of green eyes staring back at you, the owner having curled up on the windowsill. Huffing out a breath, you looked at your boyfriend and bit your lip to stifle a laugh, pressing your forehead on his hip as he scolded the cat, ushering her off the windowsill. With a disgruntled mew, she clambered across your back and jumped daintily down to the floor before she trotted out of the room.

“Well. There was our interruption from the gods,” Izzy joked, and you stifled yet another laugh before you sat back, running your fingers through your hair. After a moment of just watching each other, you leaned down and brushed your lips against his before his hand entangled itself in your hair and yanked your head closer to his in order to entrap you in a more bruising kiss. Unable to stop yourself, you climbed into his lap better and slowly slid down onto him, your fingers tracing his cheekbones once he finally released you from his wanton kisses. His breath fanned out across your face in slow, soft, pleasured pants as you rested your forehead against his.

For a moment, time seemed to slow for the pair of you as you slowly rocked your hips against his, his hands running down your back before he grabbed your ass, his fingers digging into the skin as he guided your hips faster before he was unable to stop himself from thrusting up into your heat.

Usually, the pair of you would be uttering words between you, panted out between kisses and moans, but you didn’t dare break the peaceful quiet that was occasionally interrupted by your moans and soft whines. After a moment, you pressed kisses across your boyfriend’s face, trailing them across his jaw and over his cheeks and nose, before you sat straight to watch the way his nose scrunched up every time you sank down onto his cock, and the way his brows furrowed in frustration as you teased him, slowing the movements of your hips until he let out a soft whine in protest.

“I don’t care what anyone says about you, Izzy. You’re my Izzy, and I love you,” you breathed out amid kisses, only to shudder as his hold on your hips tightened to the point of it being almost painful. He held you still for a moment before he started thrusting up into you, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss again before he took control of the pace, slamming his hips up into you in a punishing pace. Your breath caught in your throat and you were only able to moan out encouragements and praises for your boyfriend, tilting your head back as you tried to match his thrusts with your moans.

“Shit! Izzy! God, nobody else is like you-“ You panted out amongst moans, and you pressed further kisses against his cheeks.

“Just shut up and moan,” he muttered back, only to catch your lips in a bruising kiss again. It wasn’t long before you trembled against him as your release washed over you, only to let out a soft whimper as he thrusted into you one final time, releasing inside you.

As the two of you lay there, you on his chest, his fingers running through your hair, you mused softly at the fact that you knew this was the man you wanted to spend your life with.

“Izzy?”

“Mm?”

“I love you. All of you.”

#requests #izzy x reader #Izzy Stradlin #guns n roses fanfic #guns n roses smut #guns n roses #gnr fanfic #gnr smut #gnr oneshot #guns n roses oneshot #izzy x reader smut #izzy stradlin smut

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annaofthenorthernlights · 4 years ago

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It´s your life

Chapter 3

New world

Kristanna Modern AU

Rating: G

Word counting: 2228

Previous chapters (on AO3)

Note:

I´ve been to Disneyland Paris (Europe) before. Please forgive if there are inadequacies about the resort in CA.

Along this chapter I figured this fanfic takes place around spring 2014. Why? You´ll see…😊

Another note at the end of the chapter.

“You didn´t!”

Anna shrieked with excitement when they turned around the corner, entering the Western-Town-Alley. The imitation of the pioneer-aera town would catapult their guests into the time of cowboys and saloon girls roaming the street. So, the saloon would make the breakfast room, while bank building contained the tourist-information, informing all guests about major events, tickets selling of all sorts and providing material for the trip along the parc. Along the alley there stood little buildings as accommodations from single up to family rooms. At the end of the road there was the “great Casino”, the dining hall. That´s where they would eat shortly, so there was not that much time of wandering about.

The room was clearly expanding the feeling of being thrown back in time. It was situated further down the “towns street”, which was great. Because then one would need to walk all the way along the buildings and exploring the “western flair”.

Anna gnawed on her lower lip as she plunged herself on the wood framed bed, bouncing on the mattress to check its sound and feeling. Okay, it was sturdy, because there was no sound of a squeaky slatted frame.

Kristoff had put down their bags and looked at her amused, sitting down next to her. “You like it?”

“Are you kidding me? I love it. This is so great. Thank you so much considering this type of accommodation.” With that, she perked a kiss to his cheek, laughing and glancing around their nest. It was a simple room, but with a lovely charm to the details of interior and decoration. Nothing fancy, all wooden furniture and a woolen knotted carpet in front of the bed. Not much more. Th bathroom was modern of course, but simple in style, too.

“Glad you do.” Kristoff smiled and lay back for a moment. “I´m still sorry, I can´t give you the exquisite room in the princess hotel… But to be honest, I like it in here quite the more…”

“Stop that!” Anna scolded. “It´s really great, I love it. And I love it even the more, because you do this all for me.” She leaned over and cuddled against his side. Then, she pushed up on her elbow, looking around one more time.

“You know what? This reminds me so much of a story I have recently read on an internet blog site. It´s not a real story, well you know it´s a so-called fanfiction – a story about a story…Never mind, it´s called “Where the world is in the making”, taking place about 150 years ago, pioneer-aera. A young girl from the east coast travels west to marry a young homesteader by advertisement. It´s a hard life but they gradually and slowly start falling in love with each other, without realizing it of course… It´s so romantic and tragic all in one.” Anna laid back into her man´s embrace and sighed. It was good to know, they wouldn´t have to go over to some creek to get some washing…

Kristoff had listened. He was not the reader, but he liked listening to her story telling. He had heard of it before, of women traveling far to get married to some advertising men in the west. That was so crazy. But it was a different time and apparently it had worked. Somehow. Maybe. Who really knew today what they had lived like?

*******

Their table at the Casino restaurant was situated by the window and they had the perfect view onto the street. Anna sat beaming, and glancing around the place in disbelief. She could hardly take it all in, the moment was to blissful to her. She pulled up her shoulders and pressed her lips together.

“I can´t believe we´re sitting here. This is… wonderful. Thank you so much!” She reached over and Kristoff responded by squeezing her hand, smiling. “You´re welcome. Glad you enjoy yourself so immensely.”

A young woman stepped up to their table and pulled them out of their stare. She smiled so naturally and handed the menu. “Hi. I´m Honeymaren and I will be your server tonight. What can I bring you for drinks?”

When the server had left with their orders, Anna leaned back in her chair and tilted her head in thought.

“A penny for your mind.” Kristoff leaned back himself.

“Hm. I was thinking.” Anna fiddled with her fingers. “About that story, that I´ve told you just before. Those times must have been harsh and dangerous, too. I wonder how brave people back then must have been. I mean, they have left their former homes, pursuing a dream to find a golden future in the western realms. They have built new homes, towns, and established communities. Okay I´m not going into the dark chapter of forcing whole folks to move and leaving their land of ancestors. That was the bad history… But they had literally formed a “new world”. Like in that story I read, it was in the making. Are we still “in the making”, or is it all done and settled?”

“That´s a good question. I think we should never be “done” and stop dreaming of a better world. Otherwise, we get lazy and inattentive. That´s dangerous.”

That moment, Honeymaren appeared with their drinks and was ready to get their meal order taken. While Kristoff and Anna still take a quick moment to gaze into their menu cards, the young woman looks back and forth between them, curling her lips. When she´d taken their wishes, she smiled, thanked, and disappeared. Once behind the bar, she hurried to the phone and started to dial a number. “Mathias! Hi. Honeymaren here…”

“I hope Elsa is alright.” Anna bites her lips and looks genuinely concerned. “I mean, it was not nice of me to cut her off like that. It´s not her fault, our family is in that business. Now, she had to deal with excusing me in some way. But then, the time would never be right for this, no?”

“No. It´s not. Whenever you would want to decide for yourself, you´d be the “troublemaker”. But Anna. Again, no matter what happens, I will be there for you. Not telling you what to do, but to support you. Okay?”

Now, her smile was back. “Yes, I know. Thank you. It´s just… Well, I guess that I will get to hear my lot. And I´m sure grandpa won´t put up with my “rebellion” and support me in this. So, I was wondering if I might be even able to finish my exams in the first place. I will have to take it step by step once back home. But that´s okay. I have time, don´t I? Otherwise, I will change plans and do something else. Something useful, that I know I will be good at, somehow. Around normal people, in a normal world.”

“Yes, you will!” Kristoff smiled at her reassuringly.

***

Kristoff held the little gift in his hand, unsure to give it Anna yet… When he had picked her up today, he had not expected the call Anna would get from Elsa. For some reason it had hit him in a spot, he had not realised before. Kristoff loved Anna for so many reasons. Maybe the greatest one was the fact that she loved him so naturally, so unconditionally, even though she was raised in such high standard surroundings.

But then, she had suffered this ugly betrayal, painfully facing the smirked mask of greed, when Hans had dropped her like a cheap cloth to the ground. She had been nothing more than a good trespass into the Rendelle business. Once his chances of career at the well named establishment got shrinking, she had been of no interest or rather use to him anymore. He was gone, faster than he had shown up. She´d been so embarrassed and devastated.

So, when Kristoff had first met her, it had been merely per accident. They had bumped practically into each other on a birthday party, neither of them had been eager to attend. That friend of hers from Senior High had moved on ever since. Kristoff had been invited by Sven, who had been invited by the birthday girl´s boyfriend. Sometimes the world was just small indeed.

Kristoff smiled at the memory of that first so dreadful evening, that at the end turned out to be so warm and wonderful. They had – by fate? – landed sitting next to each other, both kind of uninterested in great talk, while Anna was the one starting the conversation. First on a more polite basis, where at the end, they found themselves wound up discussing all sorts of things, from music, movies, food tastes, cars (well that was more his part, but she had listened and shown great interest best she managed), up to holiday spots worth dreaming about. And when he told her about his passion of working with wood and tools of all kinds, her eyes sparkled with pure and honest interest. He was bewildered at this recognition and asked her about this affection. Anna had smiled and explained, that she loved it when people were excited about what they did or loved. She didn´t know that much about passionate work or hobbies because all she was ever taught was to work hard for the family name and focus on that career. There was not much space left for anything else.

And when he had invited her to come and look at some of his and Sven´s projects, she had eagerly agreed and had never failed to show her pure interest.

Kristoff was positive that Anna would make her way and do a great job, no matter what she would do. If it were to help with guests and provide breakfast for them at his parents boarding house. She would do it enthusiastically and passionately. If she would defend some kid from being accused of robbery or any other unproved mischief, and then getting the best deal sorted out at court – she would be great. He was sure.

But now, he was wondering if his plans would fit her upcoming life. Just today, she had taken the courage to step away from an old life that had kept her in its forceps for so long. Was it fair if he asked her into his world like that? Binding her to him in this way, that maybe meant that she would be kept captive again? She deserved all freedom to herself now.

Kristoff sat on the edge of the bed, turning the little giftbox in his hands, waiting for Anna to emerge from the bathroom. When he heard the shower being turned off, he quickly stored the little box off into the nightstand drawer.

***

A desperate yell from the bathroom, followed by a shower of swearing from Anna´s exaggerated and clearly annoyed and shocked voice startled the young man to jump and hurry over to the bathroom door, just to push it open.

“Goodness, Anna! Are you alright?”

She stood wrapped in the towel, fumbling within her toilet bag, all the while stamping her foot, frowning, and swearing to the bag. Then she looked up, a miserable expression on her face, close to tears.

Kristoff stepped closer, worried she was hurt or in pain or whatsoever. “Hey, honey, what´s the matter?” He didn´t dare touch her while she looked so furious in a way.

Anna let out a heavy sigh, shrugged helplessly, and then held up the accusing delict.

Kristoff studied the little white cotton thing that was swinging in front of his nose and once recognising what it was, he grimaced and withheld the laugh.

Anna blurted out in a wild explosion, “I´m so sorry! It´s terrible, I had forgotten completely about this. It started just this evening. I´m so sorry….” She pleaded frustrated… At some point she had lowered her hand, fumbling with the tampon, annoyed...

Kristoff couldn´t help but laugh inwardly. Yep, that was bad timing, but for sure not her fault. So, he wouldn´t blame her or anything. That was after all a nature´s circle and part of the game.

He shrugged, scratched at the back of his head and sighed.

“Well, that´s too bad, isn´t it. I mean, think of it. Every princess of this resort and her catch ´might have sex tonight, except for us. Not think of what Mickey and Minnie Mouse will be up to…?” He grinned.

Anna stared at him. He was the best. Surely, he would be upset. But then, he was always so considerate when it came to her various conditions. By now, she shook her head in amusement and punched a fist to his upper arm.

“You pervert!” Then, she laughed and gnawed her lower lip. “Dam it! Now, I can´t get the picture out of my head!”

“We can change that.” Kristoff remarked, and pulled her close to him, “I´m sure we figure out some other ways of cherishing our time together.”

Anna frowned again and sighed, “but…!” She gestured to the room. “But… This is sooo amazing, and I screw it up!”

“No. You don´t! This not your fault and it isn´t like we wouldn´t get some other chance, wouldn´t we? Still… I do envy Mr. Cotton a bit, you know.”

That was it. Anna shoved him out of the bathroom playfully scolding him along the way.

*********

Note: The idea of mentioning another fanfic within the fanfic was very spontaneous – including the authors´ consent (WTWIITM – thanks to @upthenorthmountain and @karis-the-fangirl) 😊

#Fanfiction #Frozen fanfic #Kristanna fanfic #Modern AU #mine #fanfic within the fanfic surprise #Anna #Kristoff

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thepilotanon · 5 years ago

Text

gardenia iv

gender reveal/baby shower

I know this has been a long wait, so here it is! I’m excited for you to read this chapter. I hope you will let me know what you think of this chapter and what you hope to see - since this is more of a drabble series, I’m always open for ideas and interacting with readers of the different possibilities to share with Clyde and playing Belle! Please enjoy!!

warning: none!

“Marlene,” Clyde mumbled softly, only to hear his wife’s soft sigh. “That’s alright, I wasn’t feelin’ that name either. Reminds me of that Marley an’ Me movie, n’ I won’t cry with my possible daughter’s name. Was also a name of an old lady who chase me n’ Mellie off her yard as kids.”

“Then, Marley is also out of the question,” a tired, yet amused voice responded, making him chuckle a bit. His right hand busy with their gentle caress against the rounding belly, having pushed the shirt up to below her breasts to feel the soft skin with his bare hand. “What about Eric…”

“Mmm, had a bully in third grade named Eric,” Clyde huffed, and Belle nuzzled closer to him in their bed. “Erica could be alright…”

“Not Eric, then. Erica, maybe,” Belle mumbled with a small smile before yawning. She was tired, Clyde could tell easily with how her pretty eyes were closed and how she clung herself as close as possible to him, but there was a factor in the way of her sleeping soundly. Her belly has been making it difficult for her to find a comfortable position to sleep, even though she isn’t showing to the point she can’t turn properly while laying down. Clyde is always more than awake to tend to her and try and help her get the proper amount of sleep needed for a pregnant woman - especially with the baby shower coming up in the afternoon of that day.

Clyde had found talking to his wife and gently massaging her back and belly helped a lot, as well as just talking to her with his voice low and soft. Something about his accent and the way he hums makes her feel fuzzy on the inside and more relaxed, as she claimed, and Clyde was more than willing to try and practice his conversation skills with his sleepy wife. With her head carefully tucked to his shoulder on the pillow, Belle shivered at the uncomfortable feeling of her large belly and her sore back and pressed her forehead closer to him. Her husband was gentle to comb her hair back and kiss the top of her head, his brows knitting together with genuine concern.

“You alright, baby?” he asked softly, his hand drifting up and down her back before brushing his fingers against her pregnant stomach.

Belle nodded and Clyde cooed gently and peppered little kisses along her hairline and forehead with a feather-like touch. “Poor sweetheart, ya think the baby is jus’ excited for the party?” he teased affectionately, drumming his fingers lightly over the bump and made her smile sleepily.

“I keep thinking it is actually kicking, but it’s gas or just my belly making weird noises,” Belle confessed, somewhat embarrassed and amused by herself just by thinking about it. “I can’t tell you how many times I tense up thinking it’s going to be the little bean kicking, and nothing happens - I think that’s the source of my sore muscles, being all tense and expectant. I’m just being whiney about it…”

“What’s a baby kick suppose to feel like?” Clyde asked, curious of this little secret, but also wondering about the little angel resting against his own stomach inside his wife’s womb. Either of them have yet to feel the baby kick; Clyde has been reading up and researching, constantly asking Belle if there has been any update, yet Belle can only smile sadly and shake her head. They were remaining patient, however, letting the unborn baby take its time. “It ain’t suppose to hurt, right? I don’t want you to be in pain or uncomfortable…”

“I don’t think a little baby can kick hard enough to hurt me. I’m pretty sturdy as they come, believe it or not,” Belle snickered before lifting her chin, asking him for a kiss which he gave her and nudge their noses together. “I’ve asked Bobbie Jo and Mrs. Potter. Bobbie Jo said that it’s like when your muscle spasms for no reason. But, Mrs. Potter said it can feel like someone flicking the inside of your tummy, so I’m not sure.”

“Can’t be that surprising once you tell the difference, right?” Humming, Clyde lifted the blanket up their bodies to keep her warm and cozy, seeing how more sluggish and sleepy his wife was becoming. Looking to the clock hiding behind her, above the shelves of the headboard, Clyde could see it was after the time Belle would usually strain on staying up with him. He knew she was very tired, and only wished he could do something more to help her sleep easier.

“Pretty sure I can… Still, I don’t think they’re ready to be kicking,” she answered softly. “I don’t know. Doctor said it’s very normal…”

“Doctor said you were doing perfect. Very wonderful momma to-be,” he whispered against her hair, his hand continuing their gentle caresses and massages to the small of her back and stomach. “Both you n’ the lil bean havin’ strong heartbeats, both healthy, jus’ what she told us.”

“Mmhmm...” Belle sighed sleepily, her cheek resting against the pillow and on him, her hands curled between them as she started to finally fall asleep.

“I see ya gettin’ sleepy now, aren’t ya?” Clyde smirked gently, seeing her take deep breaths and unable to keep her eyes open. “Can see ya startin’ to fall asleep, honey. Jus’ relax an’ I’ll take care of you and the lil baby, okay? I’ll keep ‘em settled down so you can sleep…”

Seeing her grin so sleepily, Clyde knew she was about ready to fall into a deep slumber, allowing her to nuzzle into his neck and carefully cling to his sleeping shirt. Clyde felt his heart throb in his chest at feeling her warm cheek against him, the warmth of her belly underneath the blanket and against his palm making feel tingly by the physical contact. He felt his wife’s small hand curl around his neck and tangle in his hair - her fingertips sloppily attempting her massage before going limp. “Love you so much, and so does the little baby…”

Clyde couldn’t stop his grin as he kissed his wife’s head and listened to her breathing change to a deep sleep. Waiting a while to make sure his wife was out after a few minutes, he gave her forehead a gentle kiss before closing his eyes and rest his head on the pillow with her.

XXX.

“I decided.”

Belle turned around to look at her husband while he busied himself with the hook of the hangar in his mouth to take off his button-up shirt of choice. Seeing she was dressed in a lavender sundress and a violet cardigan pressed to the bedside, Clyde opted to wear his light grey button-up with his white undershirt and brand new jeans to look more clean and somewhat matching with her. It was a fun celebration, after all, and Clyde wanted to look almost as good as he did on his wedding day (minus his many panic attacks and his wild imagination of the many what-ifs). Anything for his lady and baby on the way.

Smiling at him while he shrugged his shirt on, approaching to help with the buttons before he could tuck in the shirt, Belle got on her toes to kiss his chest, next to the wedding band resting against his sternum in a necklace. “What did you decide about, big bear?” she asked, feeling him give her a kiss on the top of her head.

“On namin’ the baby.” Catching her attention, Clyde gave her a small smile and brushing his thumb along her cheek. “If it ends up bein’ a lil boy, I can name him one of the few names we liked n’ listed together. If it ends up bein’ a lil girl, you can name her one of the names we picked out for a girl. Feel like it’s only fair since I can’t think of any good girl names and you like some of the boy names I thought of… And I really like the girl names you told me the other day.”

“The ones we put on the fridge?” Belle blinked. The two had a little notepad with little scribbles of possible names and highlighted different colors, depending on the gender or neutral, whenever they had free time on Sundays and Monday nights together.

“Yeah, but we’ll still need to agree to it, don’t we, Darlin’? ‘Course, we gotta agree, when the time comes.” Clyde snickered when she raised a brow at him. Once she finished buttoning his shirt, he tilt her chin up and gave her a sweet kiss that made her grin against his lips.

“Yeah, I would hope so,” Belle snickered while he pulled away and busied himself to tuck his shirt into his jean while getting his belt for him off the bed. “I don’t think it would end well with either of us picking a name, and then changing our minds on how we feel about it for the other.”

Taking his belt when his wife offered it to him, Clyde mumbled a thanks before putting the leather strap through the loops with his only hand. “Just as long as we don’t name the boy Junior.”

“Or after an obvious flower,” Belle agreed with a smile, her hands resting on her belly and rubbing carefully over her dress. “As much as I love my job and having my name after one of the most romantic flowers known to man, I think our little angel is too special for that.”

“Could jus’ name ‘em Angel, too,” Clyde suggested.

Belle’s nose wrinkled a bit as she tried to hold back her laugh. “Would it be weird if I thought Angel would be a cute name for either a girl, or boy? It’s unique, but still special - because it will be our little angel. I’m sure there’s variations for it.”

“Well, ain’t Fish’s name actually Fish? Is Fish a cute name?”

“I’m not even related to - you know that their mom isn’t all that…”

Belle sighed and let him pull her into a hug, his facial hair tickling her neck with his little butterfly kisses to her skin. His arms wrapped around her and his hand sliding down to teasingly squeeze her bottom, making her jump. “We’ll figure somethin’ out,” he assured her affectionately, feeling her pulse quicken when he scraped his teeth under her jaw. “Party first, right? You’re gonna be the center of attention with how lovely ya look, Darlin’.”

“Me and my big belly bumping into everything while I stuff my face with food,” Belle taunted. She squealed when her husband blew a raspberry against her neck, tickling her enough to get her laughing.

“Ain’t no matter, yer still the center of my attention,” he shrugged joyfully before kneeling down to give her stomach gentle kisses. “And so will this lil peanut. Hope ya get yer mommy’s tickle spots, ‘cause I’m gonna be ticklin’ and kissin’ ya until you tire yourself out from laughin’. Yer mommy’s the same way, knocks right out when you get her laughin’ for a good five minutes.”

“Shh, don’t listen to Daddy,” Belle grinned while combing back his hair, feeling him nuzzle against her with so much affection. “Your daddy is just trying to tease me to get me flustered enough for him to distract me from going to the baby shower.”

“Is it working?” Clyde asked sweetly, looking up to give her his loving eyes that he knew she couldn’t resist.

“Only a little bit… Just a pinch.”

“Mmhmm? Uh-huh?” Clyde held back his laughter while his wife playfully shoved his face away from her belly. “C’mon, sweetheart, you can’t resist me that easy.”

“Oh, like you can take one look at me when I doll myself up for you and turn the other cheek?” Belle snickered while he stood up on his feet. “Even when I wake up with knotted hair, drool on my chin and unable to form proper sentences, you still say I’m the prettiest lady you have ever seen.”

“That’s just ‘cause you are, Darlin’,” Clyde grinned, taking her cheek in his hand while his metal prosthetic wrapped across her back. He peppered gentle, loving kissing along her cheek before stealing a quick smooch from her smiling lips. “You could be covered in dirt n’ oil and still be the most beautiful girl in my eyes.”

“Even while I’m stuffing my face with sandwiches while pregnant, or get covered in baby spit? Not sleeping for days because I’ll be a reckless and anxious mom?”

“You deal with me shovelin’ plates in my mouth, and you know darn well we’re both gonna be covered in baby spit!” he claimed rather proudly before nuzzling under her jaw, kissing and nipping her skin softly and holding her close carefully while she laughed. “C’mon, Darlin’, pick out some comfortable shoes to wear and I’ll be right out. We got a party to get ya to.”

It was an interesting situation having Mellie and Bobbie Jo argue about the location of the baby shower - since Belle wasn’t even planning on having one in the first place, that just didn’t sit well with either woman while Silvia was more of the middle ground in the fight. Mellie wanted to have it at the park area, where it was outdoors with fresh air and nature surrounding the picnic patios and have a BBQ while Bobbie Jo wanted it at the new fancy restaurant that just opened up in town (where she knew the owner of the business and could get a deal on a party room) and could get a lovely buffet with clean tablecloth and silverware. As much as the mother-to-be wanted to try and find a solution for both ladies to agree with, suggesting the restaurant they had the wedding reception at, it was automatically turned down and thus Belle kindly asked Jimmy’s girlfriend to put her foot down.

Silvia, as sweet as she is in being a big sister to both Mellie and Belle, and on absolute friendly terms with Bobbie Jo, can also be hard and straightforward in fixing silly situations such as arguing about where to have a baby shower. Thankfully, Silvia suggested either Bobbie Jo or Mellie host it at either house - where there were wooded backyards and easy access to the indoors with an AC available. Before either ladies could bicker which house, Silvia flipped a coin with an actual written agreement on notebook paper that, whoever got the house, the other would be in control of decorations.

Bobbie Jo’s house was claimed on tails, therefor Mellie had full control of the decorations and Bobbie Jo couldn’t interfere.

Considering that it was a gender reveal, Mellie picked the color white for the main color-theme and stuck to minimal decorations. There were a few balloons tied to the stairs that everyone knew that the Logan brothers were going to get ahold of later and party streamers decorating the railings in a cute twisting style. With Bobbie Jo’s backyard covered with greenery and trees, the white popped perfectly and Mellie was more than proud of herself with everyone’s compliments as soon as they entered the backyard; more so the only Logan sister didn’t hesitate to rub it in Bobbie Jo’s face once Belle said how much she loved the design of the patio table with a simple table cloth with a bouquet of white roses on top along with the snack plates that Jimmy was helping himself to. Mellie didn’t hesitate to send Jimmy a displeased scowl at him while hugging Belle in greeting.

“Swear, that man thinks every event is for him to stuff his damn face,” she mumbled before kissing Belle’s grinning cheek while laughing. “Bobbie Jo and Sil made those lil sandwiches for you, ya know. We know you’ve been craving ham and cheese, and look what that sasquatch is doin’! Jimmy, you asshat!”

Like a dog getting caught doing something it knew was naughty, Jimmy popped his head up before jumping over the ledge on the other side. Sadie, watching the whole thing happen, laughed at her father’s silly antics while her mother sighed at finally seeing what her ex was doing whilst conversing with Silvia and Mrs. Potter. What bad leg again? Mellie kindly excused herself from the guests of honor before chasing Jimmy after tossing off her nice sandals.

Clyde shook his head over his siblings’ behavior, taking his wife’s hand and guiding her further. Along with Bobbie Jo, Moody, Sadie and Mellie, Joe Bang and his brothers were also currently present with Mr. and Mrs. Potter sitting close together in lawn chairs with drinks in their hand. Sadie, all dressed up in a white tutu and white ribbons, offered a plate filled with different assorted snacks to the guests very politely before coming over to see her aunt and uncle.

“Aunt Belle!” Sadie squealed as she hurried over to the new arrivals. “Uncle Clyde, can you please hold the plate for me? I wanna hug Aunt Belle!”

Clyde chuckled as he took the plate for his little niece and grinned even bigger seeing Sadie press her cheek against Belle’s stomach and hugging her. Giving her tummy a gentle kiss, Sadie pulled back and waited patiently for Belle to bend down to kiss her cheek, which Belle returned by taking her face with both hands and giving her big kisses to each cheek and then her forehead.

“You look so pretty, Sadie! Look at you!” Belle gushed and fondled the girl’s cheek, making her blush and laugh. “You look even more like a little angel!”

“Thank you, Aunt Belle! You look very, very pretty, too!” Sadie sang brightly, waiting patiently for her aunt to release her before going to hug Clyde as tight as she could. “Hi, Uncle Clyde! You look handsome!”

Clyde chuckled softly when his little niece hugged him, kiss his cheek quickly and took off, chasing down her dad and reprimand him for taking the sandwiches her mom and father’s girlfriend took the time to make special for her aunt. “She seems happy to have a party at her house, huh?”

“Well, she must get it from the other ladies in the family. Both Mel and Bobbie Jo throw very fun parties,” Belle said rather fondly. When Clyde offered her something off of the plate Sadie deserted them with, the pregnant woman picked out a little finger sandwich and a cookie before being called over by Mr. and Mrs. Potter. Belle seemed to glow brightly greeting her bosses, patiently waiting for Mrs. Potter to get up from her spot to properly give her a hug while Mr. Potter took Clyde’s plate and shook the father-to-be’s hand.

“How ya doin’, sweetheart? You been eatin’ good for the baby?” Mrs. Potter instantly took charge of looking over Belle with critical eyes, obviously looking for anything that might raise any sort of red flags. It was natural, according to the elderly married couple, considering both Mr. and Mrs. Potter had seven healthy sons throughout their lives together.

“I’m doing really good, thank you,” Belle responded with a happy grin, allowing the stout, elderly woman to nod in confirmation and then hug her. “Clyde is always making sure I’m eating well enough, getting enough sleep and drinking water, all the sorts you’ve written down for us.”

“Good. Don’t need to kick yer man’s ass for not takin’ care of ya properly, knowin’ how stubborn you are.”

“She ain’t a picky eater, ma’am,” Clyde corrected as he came over. Seeing his wife pout a little bit at the accusations, he kissed the top of her head, while his flesh hand reached to gently caress her rounding stomach. “Takin’ vitamins, eating healthy and doin’ wonderful,” he praised her directly, making her instantly grin; kissing her cheek repeatedly while Mrs. Potter rolled her eyes affectionately.

“Yer gonna spoil her too much,” Mr. Potter interjected and his wife smacked his pudgy belly with her hand, making him snicker.

“Oh shush, ya ol’ man. You were three times as bad whenever I had our boys!”

“Sorry, Ma,” Mr. Potter chuckled and Clyde suddenly found himself a bit flustered by the elderly couple’s interaction.

Even though he and Belle had been affectionately calling each other “Momma” and “Daddy” in the privacy of their home to their growing baby, but still, the idea of doing it out in public made him instantly embarrassed. Clyde most definitely wanted to do it in public, show everyone that he was going to be a dad to a little baby growing inside his wife, who will be the perfect mother…

Mrs. Potter eventually let up from her husband and hugged Belle, gently patting the woman’s hand resting on her belly. “It’s good that ya got a good man, like Clyde, to take care of ya both. Knowing you two, yer goin’ to be jus’ wonderful parents. I know yer old grandpops would be so happy for ya.”

Clyde watched fondly as Belle began to glow from that particular comment. Mr. and Mrs. Potter both knew Belle’s grandfather for most of the man’s life, so hearing that obviously meant a lot to his wife, seeing those happy tears. The old woman grinned and pinched the pregnant woman’s cheeks fondly. “And don’t forget, once this lil babe is out in the world, m’gonna pull my famous cheek pinchin’, jus’ like I did with ya and did with yer ol’ man, when he was a young rascal.”

Belle snickered when Mrs. Potter fondled her cheeks in the palms of her wrinkled hands, laughing with her. “I’m just glad that you never pinched so hard,” Belle told her. “But, please make sure to wait until they’re old enough.”

“O’course, honey! I didn’t get to pinch yours ‘til you were ‘bout five - yer gramps never let anyone else hold ya, but him, his wife and Joe Bang. He was such a particular man when it came to his lil Rosabelle,” Mrs. Potter promised affectionately. Then, looking to Clyde, Mrs. Potter took Clyde’s hand and pat his knuckles with a loving, motherly grin. “You’ll be a great daddy, Clyde. I know for certain that ol’ goofball in Heaven would’ve adored ya as a grandson-in-law, and a perfect match for his lil grandbaby. He would be so excited for you two becomin’ parents. His wife would’a thought the same.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Clyde mumbled, unable to stop his cheeks heating up from the kind words from the old lady who helped his wife so much.

“Well, I know for a fact that Pops would be crying his eyes out and drinking with the daddy-to-be, until he knocked himself out in a tree,” a familiar voice caught both Clyde and Belle’s attention. Turning around, they saw Dayton White dressed appropriately in a nice, pressed shirt and dress pants.

“Dayton!” Belle yelled with a bright smile, attempting to jump at her childhood friend until he grasped her shoulders to keep her still as possible, then pull her into a careful hug. Belle hugged him back as tight as possible while Clyde came over, waiting his turn to shake hands with the NASCAR racer and a friendly half-hug. “What the hell are you doing here? You’re suppose to be in California, last time we talked to you!”

“How could I miss the babyshower of my best friend? If I missed out on that, that would just put weight on my shoulders for the rest of my life, for every Christmas and birthday,” he shrugged, like it was the most casual thing ever, making Belle smack his arm at his suggestion. Dayton snickered at her before patting Clyde’s shoulder. “Mellie let me in on the shower details so, as long as you don’t tell my sponsors that I’m going to be here for the rest of the week, then there is no problem.”

“Mellie did? How she’d manage that?” Clyde asked with a raised brow, stealing a glance to his sister on the back porch, sipping a drink and keeping her attention on Sadie showing her dad a new dance move. “Mellie ain’t much of a Facebook person…”

“And for the rest of the week? That’s not like you to miss that much of work,” Belle added, although with a hint of knowledge of what could be happening for her friend.

“We exchanged numbers last time I was in town, but that’s beside the point - Belle, you haven’t been submitting to your cravings, right? You know that you can still eat as normal as you have been, but adding vitamins help -!”

Belle didn’t hesitate to reach and gently raise Dayton’s jaw to shut him up. “If you’re implying that it looks like I’ve gained unnecessary weight, you’re already cruisin’ for a bruisin’, Dayton. Just ask Jimmy and Uncle Joe about how I don’t hesitate to still kick some ass.”

Clyde rubbed his hand across his wife’s back, trying to keep her grounded. “I stand witness to that. I wouldn’t try testin’ her, buddy, you know how she is.”

“Never would have suggested anything like that!” Dayton claimed, then breaking the three into amused grins. “But, really, you do look really good, Belle. It’s just so weird seeing you whenever, and how big your belly is with the baby! Are you excited to see if it is a boy or a girl?”

“That, and have some of Mellie’s cake.” One of the foods Belle had been craving was the sweets her sister in-law would make, and Mellie had been more than happy to spoil her best friend with sweets and going out for ice cream, whenever Clyde couldn’t. But, Dayton didn’t need to know about that and keep himself awake at night about it…

Until the rest of the guests arrived - Joe Bang, Sam and Fish, a couple of Mellie’s coworkers who knew Clyde and Belle, and some of Bobbie Jo’s pageant friends who knew Belle through helping Sadie - Clyde was fairly overwhelmed by the amount of attention he was getting alongside with his wife. Normally, he would have sufficed sitting by Belle, his only hand holding her shoulder or rub her back upon reaction, sitting quietly and admire his wife’s radiant smile and happy laughs. Being asked how he was feeling or being complimented on keeping up with the pregnancy plan and all of the appointments with no problem, Clyde felt his cheeks burn most of the time. Jimmy would smack him teasingly on the shoulder, telling him to enjoy the attention before the baby arrived - because then, it would be how the baby has which of his features or how stinkin’ cute the little bundle of joy is. Clyde would only flush deeper and simply nod, refusing eye contact.

“And expect to not get as much ‘lone time with Belle,” Jimmy added in way too casually, grinning like the teasing big brother that he is. He snickered when Clyde jumped and Belle glared at him. “Jus’ gotta let ya know! Ya won’t be havin’ and special time while changin’ diapers and tryin’ to sleep.”

Clyde was thankful that both Sylvia and Bobbie Jo smacked Jimmy to be quiet before Joe Bang and Belle did. Mellie even threatened him to refuse his piece of cake, and that was when Jimmy kept his mouth shut.

When the time did come for cake, they had the parents-to-be stand at the end of the patio table while everyone surrounded them as Mellie came out of the house with the dessert. The cake was frosted white with homemade buttercream frosting and had pink and blue confetti sprinkles; everyone clapped for Mellie’s craft as she set the cake in front of Belle and Clyde, producing two knives and a cake server. Since it was Mellie’s planning, she was strict in instructing them how to reveal the inside contents of the cake. Jimmy had Sadie on his lap and helped her start recording with his phone. Dayton, the Bang brothers stood behind Joe Bang with Dayton, while the older man sat on a chair with a beer in hand. Mr. and Mrs. Potter were seated at the other end of the table, with proper view of the couple and cake and taking pictures.

“Now ya can’t be takin’ the knives out, or you’ll see the frostin’,” Mellie explained, handing each of them a knife. “Like the weddin’, ya each cut a side and will lift the servin’ up. Make some cute pictures!” She waved her hands to them to get started.

“Okay,” Belle nodded and smiled to Clyde. “How big do you want the piece to be?”

Clyde hummed and moved his knife to decide on a piece, Belle held hers still for him until he decided, grinning in patience all while Jimmy and Sadie were whining for Clyde to hurry.

“Sadie, what are you hoping the baby will be?” Belle asked the young girl, who was being bounced on her dad’s knee in anticipation.

The little blonde girl snickered. “I don’t mind either! Boy or girl is good to me,” she claimed. “It’s gonna be my honeybun!”

“If it’s a boy, how’ya gonna dress him up in dresses?” Jimmy asked dramatically, making Joe Bang roll his eyes.

“Ya can dress up, play the prince or the shiny guy,” Joe Bang explained. “Boys look good in pink, too - or be a cool dragon, like I was!”

“Don’t go tellin’ lil Sadie the story of how ya played princess and dragon when Rosabelle was too lil to understand that playin’ with hairspray and lighters were dangerous!” Mrs. Potter snapped, and Joe Bang simply shrugged with a naughty grin into his beer bottle. Thankfully, Sadie didn’t pay much attention to what was going on, more focused on what her aunt and uncle working with the cake.

“Ignore ‘em, cut the cake!” Bobbie Jo insisted, also having her phone out and recording. Belle did her best to hide back her laughter from the whole situation. Now that Clyde inserted his knife down to the cake plate, it was only causing more anticipation and excitement on the patio porch.

Grabbing the serving knife next, Belle held it between herself and Clyde, waiting as he used his right hand to wrap around hers. He snuck in for a quick kiss before helping her dig it under the cake. The ladies, including Sadie, aww-ed and both Sam and Fish performed a drumroll bit on their cleaned jeans when Clyde broke the kiss and pressed their foreheads together, giving her the most excited eyes sparkling to her.

“Ya ready, Darlin’?” he asked quietly, his smile showing his teeth and the cute wrinkle in his nose whenever he was excited. She felt his hold around her hand tighten a bit, his thumb brushing her skin gently. Sam and Fish’s drumming got more intense when Belle smiled back and nodded.

“Let’s see what our baby is going to be,” she encouraged, and they raised the cut piece of cake, slowly revealing the chocolate cake hidden underneath -

And the bright pink filling inside.

xxx.

Fun Fact: Gender reveal parties became a thing in the late 00s, from inspiration of a couple who struggled to have a child for years and were very excited to know what their baby would be! There is a lot of critical responses to it nowadays, however, I think it’s a wonderful story for a couple’s wish coming true. The couple’s daughter, today, likes to wear suits and break gender-norms!!

taglist: @ayatimascd @kyloxfem @kylo-renne @damndriver @formerly-anonhamster @oh-adam @redhairedfeistynerd @rosalynbair @deliriumdoll @bellaren18

If you would like to be added to the list of this drabble series, please feel free to let me know and I would be very happy to add you!! Please let me know what you thought of this chapter, and see you next time.

#pilotanonwrites #clyde logan x reader #clyde x reader #clyde logan #gardeniaclydefic #pilotanonblerb #reader insert #female reader insert

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admiralty-xfd · 6 years ago

Text

Culmination

This is chapter 15. To start at the beginning, click here.

Mulder and Scully find happiness (for now). Mulder has a question to ask Scully.

CONJUGATION

(post IWTB)

SCULLY

For a while, everything is very, very good. The FBI has cleared Mulder of all the bogus charges, the tigers on their tail have retreated. Scully can hardly believe such a weight has been lifted off their shoulders.

No more running. No more hiding. They are free.

The house they live in is not much to look at, but it’s exactly the kind of place Mulder had talked about all those years ago during that awful case in Home, Pennsylvania.

My work demands that I live in a big city, but if I had to settle down, build a home...it’d be a place like this.

How amazing that after all these years, he’s settled down with her here, now. It isn’t far from where they used to live, but it feels remote in a good way.

The house is simple, sturdy, and unremarkable, with a weathered roof and a wrap around porch that Scully has to admit had entered her mind when she pictured where they would live. It’s been a comfort to them both. Although well off the beaten path it’s a place they can rest their souls, a real home. An anchor in the midst of what had been their storm.

The property extends several acres and the privacy it affords has had ample benefits for their situation the past several years. After months on the run they’d finally found a way out for Scully; the FBI was no longer interested in pursuing her, and as long as she claimed ignorance of the whereabouts of her erstwhile partner they’d leave her alone.

But she did know his whereabouts, and she had a sneaking suspicion many of her ex-fellow agents knew that. So she toed the party line, kept her head down, found herself a job at a nearby Catholic hospital and lived the life of a single woman at work, knowing Mulder would be waiting for her at home at the end of every day.

They’d lived this way for years, and for the most part they shared real happiness, whenever they were together. After working so long in such a high-intensity occupation, they’d had to readjust to a life that was its complete opposite. Scully had welcomed this change, and Mulder had as well, to her great surprise and pleasure. She enjoyed being a doctor again and he seemed to genuinely appreciate the rest. But year after year, he found himself alone for much of his time, forced to remain hidden, forced to stay underground. As a result he rarely left their house, and they’d prepared for scenarios in which the government might find him. There were crawlspaces in the floor, and they’d devised intricate drills in case their home was invaded.

She hadn’t been sure what this new life would be like for him. He had never been an extremely social person, but he abhorred idleness. And time takes its toll on anyone living in such isolation.

“I’m happy as a clam,” he will often say, whenever she asks him how he’s doing, and she believes him, for the most part. She has to. He will ease up next to her, wrap an arm around her torso and kiss her shoulder. “I’ve got you.”

And when they lay together at night in their own bed in their own bedroom in their own house and he presses his body to hers, she still can’t believe how lucky she is to have this; to have him, all to herself in this way. Now that they no longer have to hide who they are, or what they are, she can finally feel peace, as much as she possibly can. And she truly hopes, she wants to believe, he can as well.

It isn’t perfect, but it’s the happiest she’s been in years.

“Walk with me, Scully,” he says one afternoon as they sit together on their porch.

It’s been a few weeks since he finished his freelance case with the Bureau, and Scully had saved the life of a young patient when she’d feared the worst. It feels like a hopeful time, a happy time. The winter chill has worn its way into spring at last, just like in their own little world. All these years they’ve been in hiding, springtime has been such a relief for her. It felt like a new start, a turning point, and every year it gave her hope.

She smiles at him, takes his hand, and as they walk down the steps they are just like any other couple. They cross their yard, hand in hand, listening to the birds and feeling the warm sunlight on their faces. She sees a light at the end of this long, dark tunnel, finally.

As far away from the darkness as we can get.

“Are you happy, Scully?” The question takes her off guard.

“Of course I am.” She squeezes his hand. “Where’d that come from?”

He shrugs. “Just been thinking about things since I finished that Bureau case. Our lives have been so different. It’s not easy to slow down like this after so many years of doing what we did. Especially after getting pulled back in like that. It was weird, it was like I’d never left.”

“I understand.” She’s not sure where he’s going with this. “Are you saying you… miss the FBI? Miss the X Files?”

He walks a few paces. “Yes. Sometimes I really do.”

She doesn’t know how to respond to this, so she doesn’t.

He continues. “But I also realized what I miss about it more than anything is you and me, together. Doing our thing. I didn’t have that this time around, and I could feel it. It wasn’t the same without you by my side. We were good, Scully. We were great together.”

“I think we still are, Mulder.”

“I just realized the other day, you and I have now been a couple for longer than we weren’t.”

She does some mental math. “You’re right. Wow, you’re right.” She smiles up at him. “See, those long hours have been put to good use.”

He grins, then stops and faces her. He takes both her hands in his.

“Marry me, Scully.”

It takes her by surprise as always, but she rolls her eyes and squeezes his hands. He’s asked her a dozen times and she always says no. Not because she doesn’t love him, of course. The whole thing just seems so… not them. They’ve done it all already, and most of it backwards. Getting married at this point just seems silly for some reason.

“Mulder, do you even want to get married? It just doesn’t seem like you.”

“I can see why you’d think that, Scully, but the past few years have grown on me. I’ve never really known... normal before. Slowing down hasn’t been easy but I’m starting to feel its effects and it feels pretty good.”

She thinks about this for a minute.

“I really love you, you know,” she says, and squints up at him. He tilts his head down to look at her. It’s something he has to do more often lately, as her hospital job makes wearing high heels a thing of the past.

“And I think you’re the bee’s knees. Isn’t this what normal people do? When they love each other? Get married?”

She sighs, looking down. “We aren’t normal, Mulder, as much as I’d like us to be.”

“But maybe we can start trying to be. We’re free now. We can do whatever we want. We can be whatever we want.”

He tilts her chin up to look at him. “I know it’s your choice to be with me, Scully, and I’ll never stop loving you for that. But it’s not lost on me that you’re in this position because you threw your lot in with me in the first place.”

She doesn’t know what to say to this, so she just hugs him tight, her cheek resting on his chest.

“Is getting married something you want? I mean… say we’d never met. And you’d lived your ‘normal’ life. Would you have said yes to some other guy if he asked you? Is this just a me thing?”

She feels torn. He’s right, she would have said yes to some other guy in some other lifetime. But marriage and Mulder just doesn’t compute to her. She appreciates the gesture, but can she marry him knowing he’s just doing it for her?

Her hesitancy is making this less of a Mulder thing and more of a them thing. She’s not sure how she feels about that.

“I don’t know,” is all she can really think of to say.

“I want to give you everything you want, Scully. I just need you to tell me what that is.”

“But I know it’s not really what you want, Mulder. How can I say yes to something when I know you’re just asking to make me happy?”

“If it makes you happy, then it is what I want. Making you happy is all I’ll ever want.”

Scully’s eyes darken and she pulls back to look up at him. “I don’t believe that. I’m sorry, but I don’t.”

He takes a deep breath and looks up at the sky. It’s as if he feels the weight of it, above them. A siren song that he may never stop hearing. And that date… that cursed, fateful date in December 2012 when the world is supposed to end.

“I know there’s some part of me that will always be searching for something. But it doesn’t change the way I feel about you and it certainly doesn’t change the fact that I want to make you happy.”

It’s not that she doesn’t believe him. She knows he loves her, as much as he possibly can, in all the ways he’s ever shown her. She believes he does want to make her happy and will do everything in his power to achieve that.

What she doesn’t believe is that she could ever be enough for him. That she will ultimately fail him in some way, and that eventually, after everything, he will choose his endless quest over her.

This is her greatest fear.

She thinks back to a moment not too long ago in a locker room, when he’d seemed to make that decision with barely a thought. Good luck, he’d said to her, after she’d threatened not to come home. It had been devastating. Not to mention all that “I’d rather die” business. She shudders, thinking about that. It still bothers her.

It’s easy for him to say these hopeful things in moments like this when he’s not actively being pulled back into the darkness. She often worries about what’s next. And adding the element of marriage to their relationship just seems unnecessary, so insignificant to what they actually are and what they mean to each other. He’s her partner, her best friend, her equal, and her everything else.

Could she think of him as a husband? She loves him like a husband, but the term doesn’t really fit him, doesn’t fit everything he is to her. Can he ever actually fill that particular role to her after all they’ve been through together? Does she even want to be his wife?

She curses the absurdity of these thoughts. After wanting something normal for so long, here he is offering it to her and she’s shutting him down.

They have begun walking again. She realizes it’s been awhile since she’s said anything.

“You know, this isn’t just a gesture, Scully. This means something to me. I love you too much to let that go unsaid.”

She smiles, squeezes his hand. Maybe he does mean it after all.

“Maybe.”

He smiles. “I get a ‘maybe?’ Well, that’s progress. I’ll take it.”

“I do love that you keep trying. That makes me happy, Mulder.”

“Noted.”

They’ve come full circle and are back in front of their house. Holding hands, they go inside and Mulder leaves the screen door open to let in the spring air.

MULDER

It’s their very first real vacation together. Not including the countless crappy motel rooms they’ve checked into over the years, of course. After six years on the run they finally have the opportunity to travel without fear of being discovered. This is a real vacation and he’s excited to be on it with her.

The white sand surrounds them, the sky is deep and blue, a couple towels underneath them and a large umbrella above. The hotel where they’re staying has a semi-private beach cove adjoining their room, and aside from a few other hotel residents and a bar several yards down the way, they’re enjoying a modicum of privacy.

The world may be ending in four years but they are here now, and they have each other. They are, quite literally, as far away from the darkness as they could possibly get. He knows it’s exactly where she wants to be. He knows now is the time.

“Hey Scully.”

She’s been lying on her stomach quietly on her towel for the past hour, and he’s been watching her. Gazing at her, one of his favorite pastimes. Studying every curve, every freckle, it all looks so different under the tropical sunlight. He can’t recall a time where they have both been anywhere so vibrant together.

“Mmm?” She sounds half asleep, a margarita buried halfway in the sand completely melted by now. He knows she’s in heaven.

“I want to ask you something.”

He sees one eyebrow go up behind her sunglasses. She slowly pushes them up to her forehead, skeptical as ever. “Yeah?”

He knows she’s expecting him to do it, the same way he always does, casually or with a joke. He does something she’s not expecting. He is, after all, a dark wizard.

He leans over slowly and kisses her, a soft kiss but one with purpose and intent. He props himself up on his elbow, face close to hers.

“I know I’ve kept you in the darkness for a long time, Scully, longer than you deserve. We’ve been through some terrible things together. And because of that I can’t give you the life you always wanted. I’ll always be sorry about that.”

She looks at him, really looks at him. The eyebrow settles and she’s truly listening.

“But I also know that you’ve always wanted to be there with me, no matter what. And knowing that makes me love you more than I could ever express.”

He reaches out and touches her cheek. She couldn’t possibly look any more beautiful than she does right here, in the sunlight, on this beach.

“Maybe you won’t believe me when I tell you you’re more important to me than anything else in my life. Maybe you think finding the truth is more important to me. And I don’t say this lightly, but this time, Scully, I know you’re wrong. You are my truth. And if you let me, I’m going to spend the rest of my life proving that to you.”

She stares at him for a minute, taking it in. It’s definitely the most he’s ever declared of himself in their entire relationship and she has taken notice.

“I’m not done. Come here.” He helps her up to her feet until they are both standing. She seems a bit self-conscious but lets him. He takes that as a good sign.

“Dana Katherine Scully,” he begins as he slowly drops to one knee, dragging his fingers down her leg along the sand speckled skin. She’s blushing, but smiling, and a few people around on the beach take notice, pointing and smiling.

“My partner, my best friend, my red-headed little-legged goddess, I promise I’ll always let you drive, if you promise to make me the happiest I’ve ever been. Will you marry me?”

She is stunned for a moment, but then smiles again. He’s pleased to see she’s thoroughly impressed.

“Wow, Mulder.”

Somehow he knows he’s done it this time. Her eyes narrow and she pulls him up to his feet. She puts her hands on his chest and looks up into his eyes. In her bare feet it’s an even longer way up.

“Okay,” she smiles.

He hadn’t realized until now how much he’d actually wanted her to say yes, and his heart soars. She raises onto her tiptoes to kiss him and promptly sinks back into the sand, so he scoops her up and lifts her to him, helping her out. She wraps her legs around him and he’s vaguely aware of some scattered applause from the nearby beachgoers as they kiss. Newly engaged.

Eventually he sets her down and grins at her. “How was that for normal?”

“I wouldn’t have said yes if it were any less than perfect,” she smirks.

“Wait- does this mean I can’t call you Scully anymore?”

“Shut up, Mulder.”

He laughs and takes her hand, pulls her towards the beach bar. “Let’s go get a celebratory cocktail.”

She threads her fingers with his and leans against him as they walk. “Sounds good. Then I want to rent one of those boats I saw down by the beach.”

“Whatever you want.”

She smiles. “You row.”

***

“For better or for worse.

As long as we both shall live.”

These are the only words Fox Mulder and Dana Scully speak to each other at their short and sweet nuptials. It’s not like them to be traditional, but they both agree the brevity is apropos, very symbolic of what they mean to each other, and it’s all they need. They’ll have good times, they’ll have bad times, but all they need is to be alive and together. Words can’t quite contain everything they are.

They don’t exchange rings. She decided they were too defining and superfluous. Jewelry can’t quite contain everything they are, either.

No witness is required in the District of Columbia but Margaret Scully is there as their only guest.

When it’s over, they walk out of the Carl Moultrie courthouse hand in hand, him in a charcoal suit, white shirt, and blue striped tie, what she’d picked for him, and her in a navy blue shift, what he’d picked for her. Maggie looks at them with tears in her eyes.

“I’m so happy for you two,” she says, barely containing her emotion. “You’ve always felt like family, Fox. I’m so happy this finally happened.”

“You know, Mrs. Scully, I asked her at least ten times. She always said no.” He chuckles and tugs on his new wife’s hand.

“Dana!” Maggie looks at her, personally offended, and Mulder laughs in response.

“Oh relax, mom,” Scully rolls her eyes. “As if it would have changed a thing.”

“Well,” Maggie responds. “I suppose if you hadn’t waited, I couldn’t have been here to see it. God has a plan for everything, I suppose.” She smiles.

“Sometimes nothing happens for a reason,” Mulder says, glancing over to Scully. She squeezes his hand.

“You two were made for each other, I just know it,” Maggie says. “I’m very happy for you both today.”

They all say their goodbyes and Mulder and Scully decide to go for a stroll in the warm spring air. The National Mall is only a couple blocks from the courthouse so they head in that direction.

“I can’t believe we’re married,” he says.

She looks up at him, smiles. “Me neither. It’s so… boring.”

He lifts her hand to his mouth and kisses it. “Nothing with you could ever be boring.”

“Honestly, Mulder, I’m just excited to be out in the open with you like this. It’s been so many years and it feels like the first time we can really just be ourselves, in front of the world.”

As emphasis, she stops and pulls him in for a kiss. The space around them feels vast, endless, full of people. Business people, families with children, elderly couples, all swarming around them with no earthly idea who they are and how much they’ve been through. Just another normal, boring couple.

He pulls away and looks at her, his hand tucking a piece of her long hair behind her ear. “I can’t really believe we ended up here, after everything. I feel like I don’t deserve any of it.”

“Why do you say that?”

He shakes his head. He shouldn’t have said it. This is a happy day, a blissful day. He doesn’t want to ruin it with heavy shit. He shifts gears.

“Nothing. You’re a catch, Scully. How did I get so lucky?”

She tugs at his hand, starts walking again. “Oh, brother.”

“So, really, can I call you Mulder now? It’ll be hilarious. Just yelling ‘Mulder’ at each other all day long.”

“No, you cannot.”

He laughs. “Fine. Only when I’m very annoyed with you because you won’t give up on some crazy theory and aren’t listening to anything I say. Deal?”

“Sure,” she smiles.

They walk for a couple minutes, just enjoying the day, happier than he could ever have thought possible.

“Agent Scully? Agent Mulder?”

The familiar voice startles him and he turns, looking for its source. A friendly figure strides into view, smiling from ear to ear.

“I thought it was you! Aren’t you two a sight for sore eyes!”

Agent John Doggett.

“Agent Doggett!” Scully exclaims. Mulder has to keep his flight response from acting up, so used to living underground, any contact with anyone from the Bureau had been forbidden. It’s been so long since he’s been called “Agent” anything, he feels removed from himself.

Who is this ‘Agent Mulder’ person?

He has a strange out of body moment where he imagines the way he used to be. The way he no longer can be. He hasn’t felt this uncomfortable in years.

Scully throws her arms around Doggett, happy to see her former partner. “Wow, John, it’s been a long time.”

“It sure has,” Doggett agrees, as she pulls away. “Mulder.” He extends his hand, Mulder shakes it.

“Good to see you, Agent Doggett.”

He looks at them both in their wedding attire, taking it in. “So, you two…?” He trails off, but they both know what he means. Scully takes Mulder’s hand again and looks up at him.

Mulder brings her hand up to his chest possessively. “You actually caught us on our wedding day.”

A surge of pride he hasn’t yet been able to express rises within him. To stand next to this amazing woman out in the public for everyone to see and know she’s his. All those years together, side by side, everybody wondering who exactly they were to each other. No one has to wonder anymore. It’s yet another perk he hadn’t anticipated from this whole “normal” thing and he likes it, a lot.

“Congrats! Well, it took long enough, huh?” He chuckles.

Scully and Mulder share a look, eyebrows raised, and smile. “It sure did. But here we are,” Scully says.

“Here we are.” Doggett shakes his head. “Last time I saw you two you were still running after Mulder’s holy grail. You ever finally track it down?”

Scully takes a deep breath.

“Nope,” Mulder says tightly.

“I guess it doesn’t really matter anyway, right? It’s always going to be something, I guess. You’ll always have something to go chasing after. You’re a lucky man to have this one by your side, Mulder,” he says, gesturing to Scully.

“Yeah, I am,” he agrees. She squeezes his hand.

They all stand there looking at each other a bit awkwardly.

“We’re doing good, John,” Scully says pointedly. “Life is moving on, with or without the holy grail.”

“I’m glad to hear that. You both deserve a little rest, huh?”

“From your mouth to God’s ears,” Scully breathes. Mulder gets the sense she hadn’t really meant to say it out loud. She must discern his discomfort because she gives his hand another squeeze.

“Well, I’ll let you two enjoy the day. As a married couple. Congrats again, huh? You both look great. Hopefully I’ll see you around.”

“Good to see you, John.” Scully nods at him and takes Mulder’s arm with her other hand. Doggett nods, smiles and walks away. And with that, another thread from a past life weaves its way in and out of their existence.

The two of them walk in silence for a couple minutes, Scully holding his hand tightly. He can sense there’s something she wants to say but will not. He wants to ask her but does not.

Doggett’s jab wasn’t said in malice, he knows that. But it stung all the same. He’s been so long removed from his previous identity it’s strange to be associated with it once again. Maybe no matter what he does, this is how he will be remembered? That guy who spent his life chasing aliens and seeking the truth, while his one true love hung around year after year, waiting patiently for him to stop?

But stop what? He doesn’t even know. Stop being himself? He knows that’s not what Scully wants. He knows she fell in love with that Mulder all those years ago. It would be unfair for her to expect him to change. He’s told her this before.

Suddenly he realizes that maybe that’s the problem, maybe that’s been the problem the past few years: he has changed. He’s been idle, restless. Without the FBI he's had very little to do other than occupy his thoughts with things he finds interesting. His work had been his entire life for so long, and now he’s focused on making Scully his entire life. It’s been a pleasant readjustment, but a readjustment nonetheless.

If what he knows about the alien colonization is the truth, they have precious little time to spend with each other. And if it turns out not to be true? Well, he oddly feels like that outcome might be worse. The implications of that aren’t something he’s prepared to deal with.

He looks out across the mall and sees hundreds of people going about their day, oblivious to the knowledge it may all come to an end in just a few short years. He’s envious. Suddenly he feels lost and sad, as if something has been stolen from the two of them. Time itself has been taken away from them, no matter what ends up happening.

He doesn’t want to feel sad, not today. So he pulls Scully down to sit on a bench they are passing and cups her face, kissing her right there in the National Mall, not an hour after they became husband and wife. When they pull apart, she looks at him, smiling, the very same way she did after their very first kiss on a New Year’s Eve so long ago. He could live inside that look.

“What was that for?”

“I don’t want to bring the day down, Scully, but I need to say I regret not doing this sooner.”

“Doing what? Getting married?”

“Well, yeah," he says. "Everything, really. I wish we’d done everything sooner. I wish I’d been braver, I wish I’d taken a chance.”

She listens, just letting him talk.

“I regret ever finding out about 2012. I wish we didn’t know. It’s not fair, having that hanging over our heads when we’re just trying to be happy.”

“Mulder, you can’t let that change anything. As strange as it might feel, we have to just live our lives. And I am happy. Being with you makes me happy.”

“I know that, and I am too. I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Is it what Agent Doggett said? Where is this coming from?”

He pauses. “Maybe. I don’t know. He made me feel… not good. I don’t like the way he made me feel.”

“You need to let that go," she says. "He could never understand the extent of what you and I have been through together, all we’ve sacrificed. He was just making a bad joke.”

“Bad joke or not, that’s what he thinks of me. And if that’s what he thinks of me, that’s what other people must think of me. Years removed from the FBI, and I’m still that guy. ”

“Mulder, since when do you care what anyone thinks of you?”

He looks her in the eye. “I care what you think of me.”

She smiles, plays with his tie a bit. “Well, I did just marry you, so I don’t think you have to worry about that.”

“Right, but did you marry me because of that? Or in spite of that?” It’s not a question he wants to know the answer to. He doesn’t know why it came out at all.

She stops playing with his tie and sits up straighter, looking him in the eye. “Mulder. I love you. I love every part of you, even the batshit crazy parts that drive everyone around us nuts. They are what make you, you. That guy is who I fell in love with.”

He absorbs this, thinking it’s pretty much a perfect answer. She’s so perfect. How did he get so lucky?

“I meant what I said before,” she continues. “I’m tired of the darkness that follows us everywhere. I feel like that part of our lives is behind us, at least I hope it is, for however long we have. I’m not asking you to change. But I guess I am asking you, the Mulder I love, to evolve as our lives evolve. Do you think that’s unreasonable?”

He shakes his head. “No, I don’t. I guess, I’m just having a little trouble evolving because I’ve lost sight of myself somewhere along the way. I need to figure that out.”

She leans against him, and they stare out across the water, the Washington Monument visible to the left and the Lincoln Memorial to their right. She takes his hand, entwining their fingers. “Well, I’ll be here when you do.”

This thought gives him comfort. She’s always been there, and she always will be. She really is the only truth in his life.

He’d be a fool to fuck this up.

It’s beautiful out, she is beautiful, he is happy. Life is good. He decides to save the regret for another day.

#txf #msr #msr fanfic #fanfiction #mulder and scully #yep they got married #it is known #culmination

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wavemaker9 · 5 years ago

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Sometimes you remember a term from a physics class and realize it’s a very good symbol for a couple of boys with differing ideas on what friendship is. Takes place after gil finds out toni has trust issues and has the guy brought out to his home so they can beat each other up over it because yknow. Healthy communication methods these boys have.

Title: Beat Frequency Characters: (GTA AU) Antonio, Gilbert, Matt (Mentioned)

There are more comfortable things to be sitting on when your whole body aches as his does, but there’s something about the soreness of bruises and scrapes on the uneven ground that feels very fitting to suffer through in this moment. Not that he would get up right now even if he felt it wasn’t. After all, it’s not the ground below him or the stars above that make him feel most at ease in this moment, but the occasional brush of arm against arm with the man to his side.

“I forgot how bright the stars can be,” Antonio says abruptly. His voice is still quiet, a whisper in the open air, but it pierces the hush like an arrow and almost startles himself with the disturbance of the silence. “I remember it being like this a lot back home.” Because over a decade in Los Santos, and Antonio still struggles to use the title to reference anything but that southern Spanish town. “We lived on the outskirts of town and every night was like this.”

Gilbert says nothing and Antonio turns to look at him. His breathing is steady enough for sleeping, but his eyes are open, awake, staring up at the sky as well. Antonio would have rather found him asleep, given what Gilbert being quiet can only ever mean. It’s understandable, he knows it, and it’s an improvement to the yelling and brawling from earlier. But he knows their fight has done little more than a bandage might do for a severed finger, which is what the Spaniard feels this is. He’s broken a level of trust with Gilbert that he didn’t even fully realize he had to begin with, and his struggles to repair it have largely been for naught; a disappointing but understandable fact that easily justifies the silence, even if it doesn’t make it any easier to hear.

Usually with Gilbert or Francis, Antonio can feel more comfortable in the silence. Long ago there stopped being an expectation with them, that need to keep a conversation going. Given everything, though, Toni feels anxious in those beats of quiet following his words. He wishes he hadn’t spoken up at all; just let the silence carry them further into the night. Unable to change anything about that, though, he tries again, offering, “You never get these views back in the city.” He doesn’t mean for his words to tint towards bitter when he speaks, but he can’t help it whenever he speaks negatively of Los Santos. It’s a poisonous town, and invites poison in every statement made about it.

“But you like it out there more,” Gilbert finally says. He twists slightly. Not completely, but his body tilts on the grass, rocking halfway onto an aching arm so that he can look at Toni more directly, before adding, “or at least refuse to leave.”

Toni frowns, because he knows that Gilbert is no longer talking about just missing the view, and he also knows that Gilbert is not wrong, exactly. For someone who curses the city so often, who refuses to call it his home, he’s certainly made himself comfortable in its depths. “You learn to live with windows as stars when you grow up with the light pollution,” he murmurs, voice quiet enough that the sentence might be mistaken as more for himself than Gilbert.

Gil sighs, a breath that is shorter, but feels long in the delay following it. “That’s an excuse,” he finally states flatly, before twisting around to lay on his back again. “But I guess most of the things you say seem like they are, so.” To his side, Toni lets out a sharp breath, and Gilbert can’t fully decide if it’s the breath of a man laughing or the breath of a man who’s been struck. “Tell me I’m wrong,” he declares, and decidedly keeps his eyes aimed up at the space above them. “Tell me I’m wrong without lying.”

“You aren’t,” Antonio says with a bit of finality. Any denial would just be more of an excuse, and sometimes one just has to accept the person they are; especially now. “I don’t mean to,” he adds after a few seconds, then lets out a chuckle that is much more easily placed as laughter, even if it’s got a sarcastic edge to it. “Though, I guess that’s an excuse, too, huh?”

It’s a rhetorical question, so it’s less concerning when Gilbert says nothing back this time. They both slip back into that low silence. There’s the clicking and chirping of bugs and the two steady rhythms of their breathing, but nothing more. That holds for a while, seconds turning to minutes, and Antonio lets himself lay there, listening. Their breathing isn’t in sync, not like he remembers it being many years ago. He makes a few half attempts to force the two rhythms to fall in line with each other, but the effort of holding or rushing his breath to keep in pace makes him feel like he’s breathing through a thick fog instead, and he eventually lets his breaths fall back into their own natural rhythm.

There’s something unsettling about that, too, though. Now that he’s fully noticed Gilbert’s breathing, there’s a tense sort of unease that it has started to slip into his brain. It takes him a few moments of rolling the feeling around in his head before he can recognize where its origin is likely placed, and he decides to speak up about it, both to cut off the silence once more now that it no longer eases him, as well as hoping that his words might add to the defense he desperately wants Gil to believe of him genuinely liking the other, even if he can’t fully trust him.

“Y’know, I remember doing this in the hospital, too,” Toni declares, and can see Gilbert’s head tilt in his direction out of the corner of his eye.

“Watching the stars?” Gilbert asks. He can figure that’s not the answer, but without a better guess, he at least wants to highlight to the other what a seemingly questionable sentence that’s just been made.

“Listening to you breathe,” Antonio answers back, sounding largely unfazed by the hint of sarcasm. His voice keeps a sort of distant quality to it, as if he were completely back in those moments. As if he were musing aloud to the crickets around them compared to answering the direct question from his friend. “I did that a lot.”

Gil’s quiet for a long beat, before he turns his head back away. “Yeah, the what? Five times you stopped by?” There his words taint with a bitter flavor to them, and he adjusts how he’s laying in the same way one pushes their shoulders back and straightens their posture when taking offense to something.

“It was more than that,” Antonio corrects, this time turning his head over to face Gil a little more. His voice eases back into being present ever so slightly, pulling himself back from the thought to counter the small jab. “I know it wasn’t as much as I should have, but I did make a number of trips.” He sighs, then, letting his focus turn back upwards, and his tone finds a distance again as he recalls, “I’d drape my jacket over the back of the chair before sliding it closer to your bed so I could sit right by you. A lot of the time I’d reach out to take your hand for a while.” His arm twitches, like he wants to reach out and do it now, but he worries Gil wouldn’t let him tonight, so he moves it instead to rest with the other one under his head like a makeshift pillow. “I missed getting to do it so much like when we three first became friends, and they always say that outside stimulation might help in those cases.”

Antonio doesn’t give any space this time for Gilbert to respond or not, carrying on with the same tone of musing about a casual thought he’d had. He imagines it must sound odd, to hear the whole thing talked about so calmly, so simply. He finds it easier to try not submerging himself any further in the thoughts and feelings of back then, though. He liked to linger on a lot of things about the past. Tiago had once joked about him having rose-colored eye contacts, the way he mused about better times so often. This, however, was something he’d rather remember as distantly as he could. “Sometimes I’d try to talk to you… or I’d sing or hum a song I remembered you liking. But sometimes I’d just stay quiet and listen. I’d hear you breathing, and it’d make me feel better because… well, that was better than what the doctors expected you’d be doing after that long. But then I’d think about it, and I’d think, ‘What if this is the last time though? What if this is the last time you hear him breathing? What if he takes his last by the next time you come back? What if you go to sleep and wake up to a world where he’s stopped?’” Antonio releases a worn sigh, and his elbows and shoulders sink slightly, resting further against the grass. But after a beat, he makes a small sound to signify a silver lining of a thought, “I hear you breathing now and it reminds me of that, but it also makes me glad I don’t gotta worry about that no more.”

Antonio finishes to find that Gilbert has turned back to half-face him again, leaning partially onto a side and using his arms to steady his positioning. Gil stares for a long while, not making a sound. But out of the corner of his eye, Toni can see brows tilted in confusion, or even frustration. Words seem to be on the other’s lips, just not fully ready to be said, and so they wait in silence until Gilbert finally speaks up.

“I don’t get it then,” Gilbert finally declares bluntly, and his mouth tilts slightly, pulling a more perplexed frown to his lips. “You say you were so worried, so why didn’t you come more often?”

“Because I was afraid, Gilbert.” It wouldn’t be unjustified to guess at there being a defensive edge on those words, but it’d be a mistake. More than anything, its blunt tone is just matter-of-fact. “I was afraid over you. Because they didn’t have any way to contact me, so I thought the only way I’d know you were dead was going back in. It didn’t work out that way, of course; Francis still knew how to reach me, but- you were Schrodinger's Gilbert as long as I was outside that room, but you might really be gone the next time I stepped in.”

He sighs, long and heavy, and lifts his head so he can lift his hands. They move, pressing palms at his forehead and dragging slightly down his face, holding until they cover his eyes and cheeks and rest right over his mouth. “And because I was afraid for myself, too, if’m honest. Because I was too focused on a million things to focus on the one that meant the most. That should a meant the most. Because I’d just almost lost one of my best friends and because I’d almost gotten hurt myself. Because I was pretty sure someone in my crew was trying to get me killed or fucked over, and I didn’t know who or why. Because I had so much to do to keep what I had built together, to keep my crew in one piece and to keep myself out of the bed next to you.” He moves his hands again, this time parting them slightly and giving another sigh. “Because I thought, like I always do, that what I was doing was for the best in the long run.” His gaze shifts, still staying stationary but adjusting so he’s not really looking at the stars anymore. His vision grows blurry at the change for a moment, before he finally moves his eyes over to Gil, allowing them to find focus again. “I know it’s just more excuses, but those are all the answers I got for you.”

It’s harder in the dark, but those green eyes find Gil’s. Much like Toni recognized the intent to speak, Gil knows here that this is the brunet signifying that he is finished and awaits further judgement as is deemed fit. Gilbert stares back. For a long while, their eyes stay locked, and then Gil turns away first. “Well,” he says, laying onto his back again and declaring dismissively, “you were wrong.”

“So I’ve heard,” Antonio responds back after a second or so.

Gilbert still feels like he doesn’t know his friend as much as he thought he did, but he at least knows the other well enough to pick up on that wording. His arms cross over his chest, interlocking as his eyes glare upwards, even if his head leans over slightly to further direct his words at the other. “You’re wrong a lot,” he states curtly.

There’s a breath-like laugh as Toni, hands still pressed over his eyes, acknowledges to having heard that as well. He could let his arms rest against the ground again, but without being able to see, he assumes Gilbert is giving him a judging look and would rather avoid it for the moment. Still, he doesn’t resist when a hand takes his, pulling it free to grip it in a tight hold for a moment instead. Gilbert is looking down at him again, leaned over to get a better angle at his face. The light from the nearby house lights up his features just enough to highlight the raised eyebrow and slanted half-frown he’s casting down at Toni.

“How’re you one of the smartest guys I know and still so fucking stupid about everything, Toño?” Gil asks, letting his lips slip an inch further into the territory of a frustrated pout.

Toni lets his mouth twitch up into the faintest mimic of a smile, and this time around, he laughs like a hum when he answers. “Hmm, it’s truly a puzzle, ain’t it, Gil?” It’s an effort, even small, to keep his lips even when Gilbert’s hand is pulled away, resting that arm back on its owner’s side. He can tell a part of Gilbert wants to speak further; to ask why he has to be like this. Why he can’t just admit when he’s wrong.

The issue is that Toni still doesn’t fully agree that he is wrong. He can recognize the choices he made weren’t ideal. He can recognize that he made a mistake. He can be sorry for not staying closer to his friend, whether emotionally, physically, or both. But that doesn’t make his priorities wrong. He acted on fear back then, sure, but that is the purpose of fear, after all. Antonio isn’t one to show it often, but he recognizes its usefulness when required. One mustn't let it rule their whole life, let it bring them to complete cowardice in the face of hardship, but fear itself exists to keep people alive in moments of true danger.

His actions have backfired here, driven a rather impressive wedge between himself and one of his very best friends. But everything else he has on this day? He doesn’t consider it wrong to have tried to protect it first. He can agree with Gilbert that friends are important. Even that friends should come first over many things. But there wasn’t much that sitting at Gilbert’s side day in and day out could truly do, and he’d needed to do so much. To keep going, to make sure everything else survived. To make sure that even if he did lose his friend, he’d have something at the end of all this.

If anything, he wants to flip the question back at Gilbert. To question why he can’t consider the idea that maybe he’s the one who’s wrong here. It’s Gilbert who seems to have missed out on the workings of the city they built their names in. Gilbert who seems to have unrealistic expectations about the way the world of Los Santos truly works. After all, Toni would likely be pleased, if the roles had been reversed, to hear that the other two had come seen him frequently in the hospital, but he also wouldn’t have been surprised if they hadn’t much or at all. They were friends, sure, but friendship in Los Santos was a funny thing, and it could mean such varying things to all sorts of people.

And that’s the thing that Antonio finds funniest of all. Again, their ideas on friendship mesh so well in so many ways. He really never had expected the three to get along as well as they did, but below the surface, they have so much in common on their feelings and priorities, that the three actually work quite well together. They feel as if on the same wavelength sometimes, and it’s comforting in the way of finding anyone like yourself in this world can be comforting.

Yet then, you get to that one core difference and it all falls apart. They both still value the others, still value their time shared together, but Toni has never expected kindness from Francis or Gilbert that wasn’t agreed upon with a handshake, not in the way of demanding it when it wasn’t there. They’re so close in ideas, but there’s some path that they seem to have split on down the way that divides them, and despite everything that’s happened, despite Gilbert’s overwhelming anger at him, he’s still not ready to call the road he’s taken the wrong one.

That wavelength has wavered too much. They are turn signals on a set of cars, syncing up for a few seconds before falling out of beat with each other and each following their own pace until all falling into line again. He breathes in, suddenly feeling the cold of the night air in his lungs for the first time since the sun set. It makes sense, Toni thinks, looking up towards Gilbert without truly looking at him, how their breaths sound together. Overlapping, sometimes matching, but never fully in sync.

His hands find the dirt below him and he leans forward, pushing himself into a sitting position that forces Gilbert to lean back into his own spot. Toni takes a beat, a long second with his hands pressed into the grass, before he breathes deep and pushes himself to his feet. He stares up, taking in the sight of the stars for a moment more, before turning his attention back to Gilbert and giving an easy smile. “It’s getting pretty late, doncha think?” He adds the words of a question, but it is a declaration as he brushes his clothes off some. “Still got a long drive to get back to the city.”

There’s a beat as Gilbert stands as well. One where the man could offer Toni stay the night, and they both recognize it. But, given the third person still waiting inside the house for his husband to come join him, they both know that’s not an offer that’s coming.

Antonio reaches forward first, because he knows he should but also because he wants to. His hands grab the sleeves of Gilbert’s shirt as he pulls him into a big hug. “It was good to see you out here. Wish it was under better circumstances, but y’know.” He can already hear in the back of his mind, the response for Toni to be less of a self-centered dick in the future and then it can be better circumstances. So he pushes on, adding, “Next time, just call me out here, yeah?”

Gilbert hugs back, wrapping sore arms around Antonio’s frame. “Next time,” he counters, “just come.”

As Toni pulls away, he raises an eyebrow, turning to glance more pointedly at the house, and Gilbert turns too, quiet for a moment, before looking back. “Call ahead,” Gilbert corrects, and it gets a genuine laugh out of the other.

When the laughter dies down, a slanted grin resting more uncomfortably than it normally does on Toni’s face, he shrugs and nods in acknowledgement, rubbing a hand on his neck but with the air of rubbing out a sore spot from the fight. “Fair enough.” He moves that hand level but forward, resting on a shoulder and squeezing reassuringly. “You’re still good out here?” It feels like such an out of place thing to ask, given the whole evening, but it also feels like it wouldn’t be right not to ask it before parting. It’s less inspired by practice and expectation when his eyes flicker back to the house again, and he adds, “He’s still good to you?”

“More than some people I could mention,” Gilbert answers instantly, and then his face seems to react with slight regret. Not enough to fully feel bad for having the thought, but maybe wishing he hadn’t said it.

Its tone is that of a joke, but there is a bite to those words that screams volumes given its context. It drives a short laugh out of Toni, a sharp sound that echoes in the empty air like a gunshot as his body recoils back half an inch. He hopes it can disguise as leaning back with the laugh. It doesn’t, and Gilbert finally corrects his answer, giving a simple comment on Matt being as wonderful as he always is.

“Good,” Antonio answers, “you deserve that.” He hopes that’s one of the things they can agree on, even if he’s not as confident as he’d like to be on that. “Truly. I know your faith in me is shaken just because I don’t trust you enough, but I do want what’s best for you. You’re my friend, Gilbert. I thought I lost you once. I don’t wanna see you hurt again for trusting the wrong people.”

The starlight catches those eyes as Gil’s gaze locks and holds with Toni’s. “And who’re you thinking are the wrong people here?”

Toni chuckles and lifts a hand, waving off the concern. “I didn’t mean anyone specific,” he tries to reassure, truthfully for once. He doesn’t get along with Matt, he doesn’t particularly care about him outside of small factors that don’t mean much in the grand scheme of things, but Matt seems fine enough anyway. More so, Toni may not trust Gilbert wholly, but he trusts his sense of judgement on this, and if Gilbert is impressed by him, then Toni tries to keep his concern to a minimum. “I’m just sayin’, y’know? Take care of yourself.”

“Well, I know you apparently won’t stick your neck out to do it, so-.” Gilbert mutters it, but he keeps his mouth curled into a smirk so that any insult can be laughed off as teasing.

Sure enough, Toni places a hand over his heart and shoots back, “Ah, one final wound. And here I was thinking our fight was over.” But they both know that’s not the case. Things have fallen into rhythm for now, but they’ll veer and spread out and split again. It so seems to be their nature.

Gilbert gives a reassurance to Toni not to worry about him as they step further from the house. They won’t go all the way down to where the car is waiting, but Gilbert can still walk with him for now. The tone he uses when he speaks implies an understanding that he knows Toni won’t worry, and it’s enough to get Toni to speak up and admit he can’t help but to do it.

“You make it very easy to worry about you, Gil,” Toni tells him, flashing the hint of a smile at the other.

“Because I’m too trusting?”

“Because,” and he pulls Gil into another tight hug, “you are my friend. No matter what you think of me now, please don’t forget that?” He pats Gil’s back a couple times as the pale man grumbles out a pseudo-joking acknowledgement.

Toni pulls away, taking a few steps further down the path. His arm instinctively lifts in a wave when Gilbert does not step with him anymore, staying where he is standing and lifting his own hand to wave back as well. Antonio turns back forward when nothing more is said, heading towards the glow of headlights in the distance. There are still words on his tongue, but he reasons it too late to say anything more. The wavelengths have split, after all, and he figures it will be a while before they can match up again.

#ignore this #the boss kid #amusing muse musings #crossovers! unlimited crossovers!#crossovers gta edition #yay story time

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akatsukigadaisuki · 6 years ago

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Beautiful Disaster Chapter 15

GUYS I FINALLY UPDATED MY MULTICHAP STINGUE FIC AFLDKGGHG OKOK

this is a huge thanks to @hauntedpotatocollector who was the main source of my motivation to update/finally finish this chapter after like nearly two years.

idk if i should put the ao3 link since tumblr has that weird bug... but my ao3 is SeraphOfTheGay and you should find it on there!

but anyways, enjoy! this took days of looking back on old chapters to see wtf i was doing and changing/adding a lot of things so i hope it’s worth the read! thank you all for your patience and support <3

They say certain types of weather can be a strong trigger for nostalgia, which is why Rogue isn’t surprised when a sudden thought pierces his mind, nagging him like a woodpecker pecking away at his brain. It’s a question that pops up as he’s casually walking towards the home of his three friends, the ones whose conversation he’d supposedly zoned out of a few minutes ago.

The slight breeze, warm weather, and faint sunlight peeking through the clouds remind Rogue of a time when he was out at a market shopping area. The memory was very blurry, so he couldn’t recall much of the details, but he remembered getting on a horse carriage to control the vehicle that’d gone astray, and while doing so, had gotten extremely sick. After all, Dragon Slayers were prone to motion sickness.

So what he wondered now was this: How was he able to ride the bus without becoming sick? He was sure he’d get motion sick in some way, which was also another reason why he’d been avoiding the bus since school began. He hadn’t even thought about this when he agreed to Sting’s suggestion of taking the bus with him, as if it was something that wasn’t significant at all when really, it should’ve been.

Carefully, he snuck a glance at Sting and Natsu, who were laughing together at whatever they were talking about, and wondered about their motion sickness condition. They were Dragon Slayers too, were they not? So how were they able to ride the bus daily without turning green or puking their guts out?

“…favorite is Paper Towns,” Natsu was saying when Rogue finally returned from his palace of thoughts. “What about you, Gray?”

“Ah, I liked that collaboration he did with two other authors. The book was called Let it Snow,” Gray answered, and a lightbulb flickered in Rogue’s mind, realizing what they were discussing.

“Oh man, I didn’t know he did a collab! I gotta read that at some point,” Natsu said, tilting his head as he took a mental note of it.

“I’m glad I got you into his novels, considering how you don’t even like reading,” Gray said smugly.

“Can you guys stop talking about books already?” Sting pleaded with exasperation. He grasped strands of his hair, exhaling. “I’ve heard things about that John Green guy and it seems like he fucks with your emotions or something. How about we talk about video games for a change?”

A minimal silence followed as Natsu’s face scrunched up contemplating this idea, and Gray took this moment to shoot a glance at Rogue, noticing his strained expression. “Hey, you alright?”

It took Rogue a moment to realize Gray was talking to him, and when he did, he snapped out of his daze and looked at his friend, blinking wildly. “Oh, y-yeah! I was just thinking about something, and actually,” he went on, before losing the chance to speak, “I have a question for Sting and Natsu, if they don’t mind answering…”

Gray nodded, his raised eyebrows hinting at his curiosity. “Oi, morons! Rogue has something he wants to ask you, so listen up!”

Sting and Natsu immediately stopped what they were discussing and turned towards him, giving Rogue their full attention. “Yes?” they said in unison, grinning widely. To Rogue, they looked almost like twins in that moment––same energy, same wild, windswept hair, same dorky smile.

Rogue then swallowed, slightly nervous. Having everyone’s eyes on him made him falter as if their gazes were weighing him down, but he was able to keep a decently steady composure, or at least one that was enough to get his words out. “You both are Dragon Slayers, correct?”

“Hell yeah we are!” they boasted, again, at the same time. But there was a twinge of uneasiness before they said that, sparking Rogue’s attention.

Rogue decided not to think too much of it and just nodded, touching his chin with his fingers. “And Dragon Slayers have motion sickness… right?”

Sting and Natsu gave each other an odd look, their smiles receding, to which Rogue panicked a bit, wondering if he’d said something bad. However, almost immediately, Gray spoke up, slightly easing Rogue’s tension. “Are you asking because they were fine on the bus?”

“Yes…” Rogue confirmed, watching the others’ expressions. There was a natural yet somewhat forced happiness, as if what they were discussing held some sort of abnormal malice. “Um, was that not a good thing to ask?” he added quickly, sensing the discomfort he thought he’d raised in the air.

“No, you had the right to be curious,” Sting said finally. Rogue didn’t take his eyes off of him for even a second, afraid that he’d miss something important. “It’s just, we can’t discuss it in public, because the reason why we’re fine is something that isn’t really allowed. Or normal.”

“What he means is—“ Gray began, but Natsu cut him off.

“We aren’t allowed to reveal ourselves as Dragon Slayers.”

Rogue’s jaw dropped as sweat began forming on his temples; he blinked twice, trying to comprehend what Natsu just said.

“See, there’s no one around,” Sting followed up, gesturing to the desolate streets around them, “so when you asked if we were Dragon Slayers, we were okay with admitting it, even being proud of it. I mean, being a Dragon Slayer is one of the coolest things to be!”

“Don’t confuse him, just explain the motion sickness fiasco already,” Gray said, catching on to Rogue’s puzzled expression.

“We have this friend named Wendy,” Natsu stated, still serious like earlier despite his usually cheery personality. “She’s also a Dragon Slayer. In order for us to blend in around us and not be completely sick to our stomachs whenever we’re on a vehicle, she made us Tr— uh, Trolly… Taro… Toya…? No, wait, I got it! Troia pills. It has her magic that can allow us to not get sick, but we can only eat them in small amounts otherwise it won’t last for long and we’ll become immune to it. Anything longer than a short bus ride to school would still affect us, which would be bad.”

“Oh,” was all Rogue said, his eyes blown out wide. That part made sense. But why in the world were Dragon Slayers supposedly a forbidden species? And wait, did the others not know he too was a Dragon Slayer? Then, if he was one, how come he was fine despite not taking this Troia pill or whatever? Rogue yearned to ask more questions, but everyone seemed fretful and he felt awful for ruining their cheery mood, so he simply said, “I’m sorry for asking, we don’t have to discuss this further.”

“No need to apologize,” Gray assured him, giving Natsu a strange look. “I mean, it is kind of a sensitive topic, but you probably didn’t know since you’re new. Dont worry though, Sting and Natsu aren’t mad at you or anything, if that’s what you’re concerned about.” He smiled, turning towards them. “Right, guys?”

A smile stretched on both of their faces and they gave Rogue a reassuring thumbs up. “Yup!”

Rogue forced a small smile in return. They’re definitely like twins, he thought. He did feel that they were being genuine with their reassurance, but still, he felt bad. He had no idea that this was such a taboo topic, and if he’d known sooner, he wouldn’t have brought it up at all. Everything was getting stranger, and Rogue didn’t even know where to start looking for answers. If such a place even existed, that is.

The silence Rogue expected to follow that intensity never came. Although that discussion had seemed really strained, things progressed as if it never happened. Gray went on to talk to Natsu about something, and as Rogue tried to eavesdrop and/or join in, he was interrupted when Sting bumped his shoulder.

“Hey,” he said, in the softest voice, looking ahead at the sky above them, which was slowly turning to hues of crimson and orange.

“H-hey,” Rogue responded, a little startled.

Sting remained silent, and Rogue normally would’ve felt uncomfortable, but for some reason, a calmness overtook him instead. He followed Sting’s gaze up to the sky, watching as the brightness reflected in Sting’s eyes. In that moment he couldn’t tell what was more beautiful—the sky, or its reflection in someone who had eyes the same color as it.

Rogue could feel Sting’s warm skin against the thin fabric of his shirt, and it gave him a tingly feeling, like Sting was lighting little sparklers in his veins. Sting’s clothing style was very bold, to put it lightly. He didn’t cover a lot of his body, probably because he had a really nice figure. His muscles were so defined, his physique toned with skin that was practically glowing. Rogue could feel every part of Sting’s arms press up against him, and Rogue closed his eyes in that moment, melting into the calmness and thriving off the slight contact between him and Sting.

The moment, however, was short-lived, because Sting decided to say something finally, causing Rogue’s eyes to pop back open.

“Is there something you’re worried about, Rogue?”

Sting’s eyes never met Rogue’s, but Rogue could tell somehow that he wanted to look at him. He probably thought Rogue wouldn’t answer if he did.

Rogue looked on ahead before answering, seeing Gray and Natsu push each other around as they walked, clearly distracted. Logically, this was a good time to bring up all those questions he had, but then he remembered Sting being extremely confused when he talked about this strange feeling before, when he asked about them knowing about each other in the past, so he completely shut down the idea of mentioning it any further.

“It’s nothing,” Rogue lied, biting his lip. “But… I appreciate your concern.”

Rogue did not like lying, but found himself doing it a lot whenever someone asked him about what was on his mind. He didn’t think he could handle the atmosphere of that tense feeling from before, plus, he preferred this side of Sting instead ––calm, peaceful, serene––and did not wish to fracture this nice moment they were having.

He snuck a glance at Sting then, mostly to check if he believed what he said, and felt his heart beat oddly when he saw the look of determination in Sting’s eyes. They were captivating, the alluring sapphire making him want to spill every secret he’d been keeping. The intensity of Sting’s look almost made Rogue confess, but he held himself back, breaking away from Sting’s eyes. He thought he’d owed him a little explanation though, and didn’t want Sting to think he didn’t trust him, so after he swallowed the lump in his throat, he started speaking again.

“Well…” At that, he could’ve sworn he saw Sting’s eyes sparkle, “I wanted you to know…” he took a deep breath, preparing for how Sting would react, lowered his voice, and said, “I’m a Dragon Slayer too. A Shadow Dragon Slayer.”

“Wh— Wait, seriously?” Sting exclaimed so loudly that even Gray and Natsu, who were a few feet ahead, turned back to look at them. “No freakin’ way!”

“What is it, Sting?” Natsu called, his head still turned as he kept walking. This caused him to walk into a pole, and he yelped in surprise. “Ow!”

“Pole, one, Natsu, zero,” Gray commented, snickering.

“Shut it, Frosty!” Natsu spit out, rubbing his sore nose.

“Awww, do you want some ice?” Gray offered, wiggling his eyebrows.

“I’ll burn you, Droopy Eyes,” Natsu snarled, bashing his head against Gray’s.

“I’d like to see you try, Lame Brain Lizard,” Gray retorted, pushing hard against Natsu to match his force.

“Seriously guys?” Sting huffed out when he and Rogue had caught up to them. “I don’t know what’s more lame, the nicknames or the petty fights.” He let out a sigh, and then looked on ahead. “Oh hey, we’re almost back home!” He began to walk forward, when suddenly, he was gripped by the handle of his backpack and yanked backwards.

“Hey, you never told me what happened earlier!” Natsu, the culprit, yelled, shaking Sting wildly.

“I can’t… tell you… out here! Wait… till we… get home!” Sting wheezed out, stumbling. “Let me go!” He was starting to get dizzy from all of the rapid movement and had to grip onto Natsu’s scarf for support, which caused Natsu to nearly topple over. Natsu reached for Gray’s shirt to stabilize himself but ended up pulling him along into their chaos until they were all tangled in Natsu’s scarf.

Rogue watched as the three of them shouted at each other and dragged each other around, and it made him think of a group of playful children who didn’t have a single care in the world, freely doing whatever they wanted to their heart’s desire. They were like a small, close family, and seeing them like this squeezed Rogue’s heart in a warm, fluffy kind of way, making him smile.

It wasn’t long before the four of them reached a mediocre-looking house, which Rogue soon learned was the home of his three friends. Sting, Natsu, and Gray had successfully managed to get untangled from the mess a few minutes ago, and now they proudly stood in front of the main entrance, grinning. Rogue didn’t expect much of their house, really, but despite the way it looked on the outside, the inside was exquisite. Or at least, as exquisite as a house occupied by three energetic, teenage boys can be.

“Welcome to our home!” Sting announced the minute he switched on the main lights.

Rogue sucked in a breath, not expecting what those lights revealed to him. The first thing he noticed was the kitchen, which was big, and cluttered with dishes and various packaging. Across the kitchen, there was a living room, occupied by a big TV, its stand surrounded by Xbox controllers and game discs. The couch looked worn yet comfy, and as he looked past the living room, he spotted two more rooms which he guessed were the bedrooms. Overall, the house was messy, yet exceptional.

“Wow…” Rogue marveled, giving their living space another once-over. He could see Natsu grinning from the corner of his eye, while Gray and Sting simply watched him as he checked out their home.

“First things first, WE EAT!” Natsu proclaimed, throwing his bag on the floor. He rubbed his hands together, staring at the kitchen as if food would appear and deliver itself to him.

“Is there ever anything on your mind besides food?” Gray asked with a sigh, tossing his backpack next to Natsu’s. “I actually think we don’t have anything left, so we should probably go grocery shopping before anything else.”

“Aw man, but I’m hungry NOW!” Natsu whined, frowning. “And to answer your previous question, Gray, there is one other thing that’s on my mind besides food.” Rogue noticed a sly smirk forming on his face, but before he could see anything else, Sting grabbed his arm and pulled him aside.

“Sooo Rogue, do you wanna join us for grocery shopping or would you like me to stay home with you while Gray and Natsu go out?” he asked, not letting go of Rogue’s arm.

Rogue pondered this for a moment, the thought from a few seconds ago disappearing out of his mind. Admittedly he didn’t know everything about those two, but he did believe one thing: they probably couldn’t handle going out alone together without some chaos occurring. He knew that much from the library incident. Also, the thought of staying in the house alone with Sting made Rogue a little nervous, but not in a complete bad way. There was also some excitement mixed in there, but he had to be responsible here. Either way, the faster they got done with shopping, the sooner they could start on their project. Natsu was his partner anyway, not Sting, so there wasn’t much he and Sting could do if Gray and Natsu were out on their own.

“I think it’d be better if we went along, you know, to prevent any disasters from happening?” Rogue supplied after some time, rubbing the back of his head. He hoped what he said didn’t sound too offensive.

Sting’s bubbly laughter made that doubt vanish out of his mind. “Hahaha, you’re so right! Alrighty then, off to the grocery store we go!”

“Hold it.” Natsu stopped them as they approached the front door, a serious expression on his face. “You owe me an explanation, Bumblebee.”

“Huh?” Sting blinked, slightly startled.

Bumblebee? Rogue thought, feeling a smile tugging the corner of his mouth. That’s actually…kinda cute.

“Don’t give me that look! You were gonna tell me something when we got back inside, right?” Natsu reminded him, his arms now crossed against his chest.

“Oh! That’s…well––“ he looked at Rogue in that moment, as if asking for permission through his eyes, and Rogue simply nodded. “Rogue is a Dragon Slayer too! A Shadow Dragon Slayer!”

“WHAT? SERIOUSLY? THAT’S SO FREAKIN’ AMAZING!!” Natsu shrieked suddenly, causing Gray to punch him in the shoulder for being too loud. Rogue could tell that Gray was intrigued and maybe surprised as well, and Rogue laughed nervously, playing with his sleeves. Hopefully this revelation wouldn’t affect them too greatly or change the way they thought about him.

“Now that’s something I didn’t see coming,” Gray said, looking at Rogue more closely.

“Looks like Gray is the only one in the group who isn’t a Dragon Slayer,” Natsu teased, sticking his tongue out as he winked.

“Aw come on, don’t make me feel left out like that you jerk!” Gray moped, a slight frown on his face. He didn’t look too upset though, to which Rogue was thankful for.

“Is that how you knew that Sting and I were Dragon Slayers? And why you asked about the motion sickness thing? I bet you’ve learned to control your motion sickness or something because you looked totally fine this morning!” Natsu went on, not over this revelation.

His questions made Rogue come to a halt. He hadn’t even thought about that—Natsu was right, how did he know that Sting and Natsu were Dragon Slayers? He’s never seen them use their magic before, and he’d only started talking to them yesterday, so how?

“I—well, um, you see…” he was struggling to find the words now, his head throbbing with more unanswered questions.

“Ooh, maybe its a special Dragon Slayer connection where we can all sense each other’s magic or something! It probably just kicked in now that our bond is stronger, right?” Natsu offered, and Rogue decided to accept it for lack of better knowledge.

“Could be,” he replied, nodding. His stomach lurched, but he tried to focus his mind on something else, not wanting to cause a scene in front of them.

“I actually kind of figured,” Gray said then, making the three of them turn to him.

“What? How?” Sting wondered, his eyes widening. “Didn’t you just say you didn’t see it coming?”

“Well, yeah, but then I remembered something. Yesterday, when we were sharing each other’s emails, Rogue said his was shadowdragonrogue7. So I thought he might be a Dragon Slayer.”

Natsu and Sting stood there, dumbfounded. “How…how did we not realize this sooner?” Natsu muttered, looking at Sting. All Sting could do was shrug, not being able to find the words for this predicament.

“We should get going now,” Gray said with a chuckle, and Rogue breathed out a sigh of relief, glad that this conversation was over for now. He had more things to think about, and it was still hard for him to accept this whole Dragon Slayer thing, but he decided to let it go for a bit and enjoy this upcoming shopping trip with his friends.

Friends. Every time Rogue thought of them as that, it made his heart flutter. He couldn’t have been luckier, to meet three caring, friendly people who took him in without hesitation, and made him feel like he’s always belonged. He’d surely have to thank them at some point, maybe even do something for them in return for their kindness. He hoped they could stay friends and still hang out even after this project ended.

“Rogue, you comin’?” Sting asked with a smile, pulling him out of his thoughts. Rogue nodded and swiftly followed the others out the door, their bright smiles illuminating the path in front of him.

_______________

The grocery store wasn’t too far from their home; at best it was no longer than a twenty minute walk. Natsu had showed them a shortcut, a path that seemed a little dangerous considering the massive highway with no pedestrian walkways that they had to cross, but they ended up making it across just fine. Rogue found Natsu shouting “Told ya so!” multiple times to Gray, who had been the most worried about getting hit by a car or something on the way down, very amusing.

“Shut up, Natsu! I get it already!” Gray grumbled, grabbing Natsu by the scarf. “Don’t make me freeze your mouth shut.”

“You know I could easily burn your ice off Gray, plus, if you did that, how would you k—“

Sting interrupted him, yelling, “Natsu, watch where you’re going!”

Natsu turned around, realizing he nearly bumped into an elderly couple.

“Agh, sorry!” he yelped sheepishly as Gray let go of him.

The elderly couple just smiled at him and walked away, and Natsu took that as a sign of ‘apology accepted.’

“Good thing we came along,” Rogue whispered to Sting, who smiled at him in response.

The four of them entered the store then, and immediately Rogue was captivated by all the scents filling the air. This place was some sort of international market, consisting of goods from all over the world. Although there were various foods that one would be eager to try from another country, all Rogue could think about was the different kinds of chocolate he could get his hands on.

“Okay guys, who’s got the shopping list?” Sting asked, looking around to see where they could start.

“We ain’t need no shopping list! Just grab whatever ya feel like eating!” Natsu suggested with a huge grin.

“If we did that, we’d run out of money faster than you go through the food you eat,” Gray told him, shaking his head.

“How about we split up? Rogue and I will get some snacks, and you and Natsu can get stuff we can cook for meals, like vegetables and meat.”

“I’m all fired up!!!” Natsu exclaimed, reaching for Gray’s hand. He pulled him to the frozen section in the back, already starting without a second thought.

“Well that settles that,” Sting said. “Let’s go, Rogue.”

“Right!” Rogue said, following Sting down to Aisle 4, where most of the snacks were located.

“What’re you in the mood for?” Sting had asked, grabbing boxes of assorted chips and cookies.

“Chocolate…” Rogue said subconsciously, reaching for a box of pocky sticks.

Sting laughed, and Rogue noticed a slight blush on his face. “A chocolate lover, huh? We’ll definitely be buying some chocolate then.”

Rogue felt like his eyes were literally sparkling as Sting showed him this one kind of chocolate called Dairy Milk, which was popular in the country of India.

“I think you’ll love this one, it’s really good,” he said, and Rogue took it without a second thought. As long as it involved chocolate, he didn’t have to think about wanting it or not. The answer was always yes.

“Or should I say, it’s dairy good,” Sting said then, and Rogue couldn’t stop the giggle bubbling up in his throat. That pun was awful but somehow…it’s funny, he thought.

“That wasn’t bad,” Rogue said, meeting Sting’s eyes.

“Oh, you butter believe it!” Sting replied, holding up a bag of buttered popcorn.

Rogue felt like the smile on his face was permanent now. He watched as Sting ran to grab multiple boxes of berries, and was surprised and slightly confused when he laid down on the floor, covering himself with the containers.

Before he could ask what he was doing, Sting said, “Look, I’m berried alive!”

Rogue burst into a fit of laughter, feeling so light and fluffy and free. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt happy like this, so full of life and unbridled laughter.

“I know my puns are cheesy,” Sting stated with a smile, holding up a packet of cheese, “But as long as you think they’re funny or even decent, I’ll continue to make them.” He stood up and put some boxes of berries into the shopping cart, then returned the others to the shelves.

“Please do,” Rogue responded, watching him. He figured he should help, but there weren’t a lot of boxes left to put away. Plus, watching Sting do something like this fascinated him in some way, like he was under a trance. There was just a nice flow to his movements, a fluid motion that made Rogue feel warm and calm.

Once the mess of berries was cleaned up, the two of them looked around to see if they were missing anything else. As they checked out a small section of sweets, they heard an all too familiar voice not too far away, and turned their heads towards the sound.

“Natsu, get off the shopping cart!” Gray yelled from across the aisle, struggling to push a cart full of items and one too exuberant Dragon Slayer.

“You’re just weak, Gray! You can’t even handle this weight?” Natsu retorted, laughing maniacally.

Rogue blinked twice, surprised even though he should have expected this.

“What can I say?” Sting said from beside him, picking up a box of graham crackers, “A shopping trip is never boring with those two around.”

Rogue was inclined to agree to this statement. Whatever they were doing, it seemed fun. He wished he could be that bold sometimes, to be able to speak his mind, be open about his feelings and just completely be himself, but it’d take a while for him to get even close to that level. He couldn’t focus on that too much now though, because there was another box of chocolates practically glowing in front of him, calling out to him to grab it and eat it up.

Sting got close to him then, his shoulder brushing up against Rogue’s. Rogue’s breath caught for a moment, and he could’ve sworn he felt his heart beating in his ears.

“Rogue, I just got a great idea,” Sting whispered, not bothering to leave even a centimeter of space between the two of them. His eyes flickered between the graham crackers and the chocolate he must’ve noticed Rogue was practically drooling over. “Let’s make s’mores!”

Rogue was about to agree, to tell him that it was a splendid idea, when suddenly, the world seemed to stop completely. Everything went silent with the exception of a high pitched ringing in his ears, his blood felt cold in his veins, and a lightheadedness overtook him, his body abruptly too heavy to support. As he gasped and reached for something to hold onto, which ended up being Sting’s shoulder as he later found out, everything started spinning, plunging him into a suspended-like state, as if he were floating inside an ocean, lost, helpless, and unable to breathe.

“S’mores are the best part of camping,” said a familiar voice.

A figure that looked just like Rogue started smiling, holding an item of food that resembled a s’more.

“Hey, Rogue?” the voice said, taking a bite out of the s’more-looking thing.

“Hm?” Rogue-look-alike-who-had-the-same-name-as-him said.

“Are you a campfire?”

“What?”

“Cuz you’re hot and I want s’more!”

“STING…YOU DIDN’T!!”

“I JUST DID.”

“Wh…what’s happening? What was that just now?” Rogue cried out once he found his voice again, the death grip on his lungs slowly loosening. He clutched his head, fingers scraping into his skin, leaving scars. He could finally move, and his breathing returned, coming out in fast, hitched puffs.

“Rogue…hey, are you alright? Talk to me!” a voice yelled in worry. It sounded very distorted, like an octave too high. Two arms were holding him up, but he could barely feel them, just the vibrating and numbness spreading into his body.

“Jeez, what’s happening? You two are making more of a ruckus than we are!” another voice yelled. “Seriously, there’s a bunch of boxes everywhere, even Natsu and I don’t make this much of a mess!”

The rest of the conversation only rang in his ears, so he couldn’t hear or understand what they were saying. Rogue shook his head rapidly, clearing his mind. When he finally calmed down enough to breathe normally, he realized he was clutching hard onto Sting, leaning against him as if letting go would cause him to fall into a deep, never-ending abyss from which he’d never return.

“Should we take him to a doctor?” Rogue recognized this is as Gray’s voice, once his ears regained their hearing.

“There’s no need, I’m okay for now,” he said quickly, his trembling hands still holding onto Sting. He wasn’t completely sure if that was the truth, but the weird pain from earlier had suddenly dissipated, and the only thing that bothered him now was what that whole ordeal was.

“What happened dude? Are you okay?” Even Natsu was nearby, worry evident in his tone.

“I’m sorry…I have no idea what happened just now. Sting was talking about something and suddenly…I heard voices…saw something strange…”

“We’ll take you home,” Sting said, holding him tighter. “I think you need some rest.”

“But…your shopping…did you get everything you needed?” Rogue asked, his voice raspy, barely a whisper. He didn’t want his situation to cause any trouble for them, especially after all they’d done for him.

“We got what we need, and hey, you don’t need to worry about that. Just focus on you right now, okay?” Sting told him, swinging one of Rogue’s arms across his shoulders. “Gray, Natsu, I’ll meet you guys at home. I’ll see you guys in a bit.”

“Be safe!” Natsu yelled as Sting made his way out the doors, carefully supporting Rogue. As Rogue slipped out of consciousness, he barely missed Sting telling them to buy more chocolate, and a small smile stretched across his face as his mind went dark once again.

________________________________

When Rogue came to, he was in a bed that had a distinctly familiar scent. It made him wonder where he was, but there were no lights on, so looking around wasn’t much of an option. To compensate, he felt around for something recognizable, but nothing his fingers brushed upon was something he owned. So he wasn’t in his own bed, that’s one thing he knew now. He decided to get up and figure this out, but as he sat up, something cold landed in his lap, surprising him. He picked it up and touched it, trying to see what it was through the small illumination coming in from the crack under the bedroom door.

It didn’t take long for him to discover that the cold slush was an icepack, one nicely wrapped in a towel, which had probably been sitting on his forehead for a while considering that most of it was dripping wet. The memory of earlier hit him then, making him shudder. At least, for now, he felt a lot better since then, almost as if that whole crazy thing never happened at all. He didn’t know how much time had passed since that moment, but he hoped it hadn’t been too long, since he did have the project to work on.

Wait, does this mean I’m still at Sting, Natsu, and Gray’s place? he wondered, pushing himself out of bed. Slowly, he made his way to the front of the room, being very careful not to trip on anything, and pulled the door open.

When he entered the main area of the house, he was blinded by flashing lights. At first he thought he was experiencing some sort of epilepsy, but soon realized that it was coming from a video game that Gray, Natsu, and Sting were playing. So he was still here.

He peeked over the edge and saw the three of them sitting on the rug, each with a controller in their hands as their fingers rapidly smashed different buttons.

“Sting, you’re such a cheater! Stop using Minato, his flashing is annoying as hell!” Gray was shouting, his dark hair a ruffled mess. He also wasn’t wearing anything except his boxers, which made Rogue wonder what was going on.

“Ha, you’re just mad cuz you can’t keep up! Natsu and I will show ya!” Sting boasted, pressing buttons to begin what seemed like the next match.

Rogue decided to stay put and watch from the shadows, curious about this game they were playing. He was never a confrontational type anyway, so he decided to enjoy the view from where he was until one of them noticed he was there and invited him to come join them.

Less than five minutes had passed when Sting’s chill, cocky attitude was replaced with some sort of rage, one that wasn’t scary yet still intense.

“ARE YOU SERIOUS? MY CHARACTER GLITCHED AND MY COMBO DIDN’T FREAKIN’ WORK!” he whined, tossing his controller at the couch behind them. “Gah, I hate tournaments against you guys sometimes!”

“Want me to hold that ‘L’ for you, Sting?” Gray said in a teasing manner, poking Sting in the cheek. Rogue observed this closely, noting that Sting had very squishy-looking cheeks. That softness reflected in his current outfit; he looked really comfy, dressed in an oversized t-shirt and sweatpants, a change from his normal clothing style.

“You’re a jerk!!” Sting practically exploded in frustration like a little science-experiment volcano, grabbing a nearby pillow and smacking Gray’s face with it.

“Oooh, pillow fight!” Natsu said once he had his eyes off the screen. He dropped his controller and reached for a pillow, a sadistic grin spreading across his face. As soon as he stood up and got into a predatory-like position, getting ready to leap at Sting most likely, he caught sight of Rogue and yelled, “Rogue!! You’re awake!”

Sting and Gray immediately stopped wrestling with the pillows and scrabbled their way onto the couch, peeking over the edge of it.

“Rogue! How are you feeling? Did you get enough rest? Was my bed okay? Were you comfortable?” Sting rambled on with questions, almost going on longer if Gray hadn’t smacked him in the back of the head.

“Chill out for a sec.” He looked at Rogue, a soft expression in his eyes. “I hope we didn’t wake you with our loudness. And sorry for Sting’s rage quitting, it’s not as bad as Natsu’s but it’s almost on the same level.”

“I do NOT rage quit!” Natsu argued, pointing a finger at Gray.

“Oh really now, Mr. I-should’ve-won-against-that-Akatsuki-combo?”

“You kept spamming it! That was a jerk move, Frosty!”

“It’s badass, that’s why!”

“Well, yeah, but that doesn’t mean you can spam it!”

“Do you remember how many vases we had to replace because you broke them?”

“That never happened!!”

“I have proof—“

“Guys, enough already!” Sting stopped them, pushing their heads apart from one another. “So, Rogue, you hungry?”

Rogue’s stomach beat him to a verbal answer when it grumbled loudly, and Rogue blushed in embarrassment, clutching the fabric of his shirt.

“Come on, let’s go eat what I made and begin working.” Sting turned off the Xbox and stood up, making his way into the kitchen. Rogue had been so drawn into figuring out what the others were doing that he didn’t even notice the delightful scent coming from behind him.

“Whatever you made, it smells really good,” he said, sniffing the air.

“I hope it tastes as good as it smells!” Sting said sheepishly, bringing a steaming hot pot over to the dining table.

“Oooh Sting did you make curry?!” Natsu asked, drool dripping from the corner of his mouth.

“Why yes, yes I did,” he answered, lifting the lid off the pot. Clouds of steam escaped into the air, giving the atmosphere a humid feel.

“You’re the best!” Natsu cheered, reaching for the serving spoon, only to have his hand slapped away by Gray’s. “Hey, what gives?!”

“Jeez, do you have any manners? Let Rogue have some first,” Gray scolded, clutching onto Natsu’s hand.

“Oh no, it’s okay, he can have some first!” Rogue insisted, shaking his head.

“Nah it’s cool Rogue, you go ahead and take some,” Sting said, holding his arm out in front of Natsu before he got the idea to hurl himself across the table to take some.

From the corner of his eye, Rogue caught a glimpse of Gray’s fingers intertwining with Natsu’s, or at least that’s what he thought he saw. He couldn’t be completely sure of it because Sting’s torso blocked the view when he reached to scoop some curry and rice onto Rogue’s plate, making Rogue blink in his daze.

“Okay, now you can have some,” Gray told Natsu, whose eyes were practically shimmering in delight. Their hands were apart, so Rogue figured he just imagined what he thought he saw.

Natsu swept in and took a huge spoonful of curry, licking his lips in the process. He grabbed nearly half of the rice out of the cooker and tossed it into the mix on his plate, then reached for his chopsticks. Before Rogue could even say ‘thank you for the meal,’ Natsu had finished his food and was rubbing his belly in content.

“Do you even breathe while you eat?” Sting asked in worry, sitting down after he and Gray had taken their share.

“I dunno, but Gray sure takes my breath away!” Natsu commented smoothly, which caused Gray to turn red. Gray was probably caught so off-guard by Natsu’s statement that he almost didn’t realize that he froze his chopsticks from the shock of embarrassment.

Before Rogue could understand what was happening, Gray pulled the book of demons out of his backpack and slammed it on the table, causing their plates to rattle.

“ANYWAYS, LET’S START ON THIS PROJECT ALREADY!” he squeaked out, shaking his head in an attempt to cool his face off.

“R-right…” Sting said, scratching his cheek. He began eating as Natsu took the book and opened it to the first page, getting ready to read it aloud since the rest of them were still finishing their meals.

“So what I’m understanding is that there are nine demons. We already picked which ones we want, but do you want me to go through the other ones?”

Gray refused to speak and Sting’s mouth was full, so Rogue built up a little confidence and answered. “That might be a good idea. Just in case we don’t find enough information about the demons we picked, we can decide on a back up one if that’s okay with you guys.”

Sting nodded, and Gray just gave a thumbs up as he stuffed his face with more food.

“Jeez Gray, lighten up a little. I didn’t think what I said would affect you that badly,” Natsu said, bumping his shoulder. Gray’s only response was a measly sound of some sort, and Natsu just shrugged it off. “Anyways, I’ll go ahead and read them and summarize it as much as I can.” He cleared his throat, turning to the page that had the first demon listed.

“Kyouka has some sort of body-manipulating curse. Not much is known about how it works exactly, but I wouldn’t want to be victim to it. Next is Jackal. He creates explosions, ones that are very destructive. Ooh, I wanna fight this guy! After that we have Tempester, who can control a bunch of natural disasters. Yikes, wouldn’t wanna get on his bad side. Then there’s Franmalth, who can absorb and manipulate souls. Holy shit…that’s insane! Torafuzar can summon poisonous water and he has bladed arms. Haha, he looks like a shark! Ezel has a bunch of limbs that he can turn into swords. Kinda like Erza, but she could totally kick his ass. Then there’s Seilah, who can control any person or object. Spooky… Keyes is a necromancer, whatever that means. And finally, not including the one under the hidden flap, there’s the one you guys picked, Silver Fullbuster. The book just says he’s an undead human exorcist mage who utilizes ice devil slayer magic…”

“Wait, what did you just say?” Gray finally spoke, nearly choking on his last bite.

“Gray… could that be…” Sting started, but Gray stood up suddenly, with so much force that his chair left a dent in the back wall.

“I’m sorry, but I need a second to think… Excuse me…” He ran towards the front door, and threw it open, running out with even bothering to close it behind him.

“Hey, Gray, wait!” Sting called, shoving the last spoonful of curry into his mouth.

Rogue stayed calm, but he felt paralyzed. He didn’t dare move another muscle, didn’t dare to say a word. He could feel the tension in the air almost as if it was a tangible, physical thing and not just a feeling.

From the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of Natsu running to the door and looking around for any sign of Gray, but apparently he’d completely disappeared.

“Where the hell are you, Gray?” Natsu shouted into the night, clutching onto the doorframe so hard it nearly shattered.

“Natsu…calm down, we’ll find him,” Sting said softly, coming up to him.

“I’m going after him. You two stay here,” Natsu yelled, completely ignoring Sting’s statement. “Don’t wait up on me if I’m late. I’m not coming back until I find him.”

He slammed the door shut as he left, startling Sting. Sting sat on the couch in defeat, still in shock from what just went down.

Rogue shakily let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding in, and sat in the deadly silence of the once energetic, noisy household.

#my writing #writing #beautiful disaster #chapter 15 #fairy tail #stingue #stingue fic #sting x rogue #gratsu #fanfic

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officialheroesofolympus · 7 years ago

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Bittersweet Hanukkah (Wanda Maximoff x reader)

HeroesOfOlympus: Heyyy y’all! So, today is the last day of Hanukkah and I really wanted to write something for those who celebrate Hanukkah or just love and wish for more Hanukkah fanfics. I’ve been working on this for a few days and I’ve been really nervous because this is my first female character x reader fic and I’m also really scared that I may have not gotten the right idea of what Hanukkah is. I did my research but I still feel uneasy, so if I have offended y’all in any way, I’m really sorry! Also, I have no idea if MCU Wanda is Jewish but in the comics she is. @yourtropegirl @becaamm I saw both your posts and I just decided to tag you two, hope you like it!

Description: Wanda is feeling more upset about losing Pietro as it’s Hanukkah, his favourite time of the year. You try to comfort her by putting up Hanukkah related decorations in the tower and a very special gift.

Reader Gender: Not mentioned/Female or Male

Characters/Ships: Wanda Maximoff x reader, mention of Pietro and Tony

Rating: G

Warnings: Awkward writing, angst to fluff, mention of Pietro’s death (which I still have not gotten over)

Humming a Christmas carol cheerily under your breath, you strolled to your room with a bounce in your step as your mind swirled with various gift ideas to get for the other members of the team. As you got to the chorus of the festive song, a muffled sob immediately stopped you in your tracks.

Knitting your eyebrows together, you focused on the crying sound and found that it was coming from the room just ahead of you. Recognising that the room belonged to none other than Wanda, you tightened the grip on your reindeer decorated mug, contemplating on whether it would be appropriate for you to enter her room.

Chewing on your lip uneasily, you took cautious steps towards the smooth oak door of her room and twisted the door handle as silently as you could. Seeing that she hadn’t locked her door, it seemed okay for you to enter the girl’s room, so you did. Taking your chances, you cracked open the door, wincing as a squeaking sound came from it.

Poking your head around the corner of the door, you caught a glimpse of the back of the Sokovian’s head over her bed and you swiftly tiptoed into the room, silently shutting the door behind you. Realising that Wanda had chosen to change her window settings to darken and the only source of light was her ceiling lamps, your concern for her only grew.

Wanda loved having light flood her room, filling every dark nook and cranny, hence it was worrying that she had purposefully shut off the largest source of light in her room. Slowly blinking your eyes to adjust to the sudden lack of light, you set your mug down on the dressing table and carefully approached Wanda.

The moment your eyes fell upon Wanda and you saw how her muffled sobs made her whole body tremble, along with the way she buried her head between her thighs with her legs pulled up tightly against her chest, you felt your heart clench. Your eyes softened as you sat down next to the female, bringing your legs to your chest just like she had done.

“Wanda?” You finally managed to force the word out of your mouth, unsure of how to approach this situation. Fiddling with your fingers, you waited patiently for her to respond, racking your brains for any reason why she would be crying right now.

After a few seconds that felt more like hours, the other Avenger had finally lifted her head from the safety of her thighs, letting you see her face for the first time since you had entered the room. The tears that were staining her cheeks and hanging threateningly from the ends of her thick lashes glistened under the lamps just above her, the rims of her eyes red and puffy.

Managing a grimace, Wanda furiously rubbed away at the tears on her face, hoping to get rid of any traces that showed that she had been crying. In an instant, she felt a hand coil around one of her wrists, holding it so gingerly that Wanda had to look to make sure that there was indeed a someone holding onto her.

Reaching over, you tucked the strand of hair that had been blocking you from seeing the Sokovian’s face behind her ear, ignoring the pounding of your heart. “Wanda, what’s wrong?” You tried again, your hand lingering for a moment behind the girl’s ear before quickly moving away.

Wringing her hands nervously, Wanda resisted looking into your eyes, knowing that the moment she saw how much care and concern shone in your eyes, she would indulge all her secrets in you. Unfortunately, when your hand had shifted from your knee to hers, she lost all her self-control and caved into temptation.

“What’s wrong is that Pietro is not here,” She muttered with a waver in her voice, eyes nervously meeting yours.

Hearing the other Maximoff twin’s name, you let out a shaky breath you didn’t know you had been holding and immediately gave Wanda’s knee a light squeeze, encouraging her to continue. Taking an uneasy breath of air, the Scarlet Witch continued with a tremble in her voice, which broke your heart.

Wanda’s eyes began to water as she began to speak in a volume that was barely a whisper, “Celebrating Hanukkah was his favourite holiday and it just seems wrong to be celebrating it without him.” Slightly surprised at this newfound fact that Wanda was Jewish, you chastised yourself for thinking about that when you should instead be focused on listening to the reason behind your friend’s sadness.

Wanda’s eyes became unfocused as she continued talking, her words spoken in a nostalgic and heartbroken tone. “He used to try and sneak some latke when I was still in the middle of making them. I would chase after him, demanding him to give them back but I could never catch up to him. Even without his powers, he was a fast runner.”

Choking out a pained chuckle, Wanda shook her head as she recalled every tradition she did and every moment she had spent alongside her Brother during that holiday over the years. “It was his favourite time of the year and now that he’s gone...” She trailed off, taking an uneasy gulp as a fresh round of tears threatened to fall from her eyes.

Seeing the way her eyes seemed to be trained upon something, you followed the direction of where she was looking and found yourself staring at a box you hadn’t noticed before. Inside were trinkets and objects the girl had saved over the years from celebrating Hanukkah but most importantly, at the top of the pile was a picture of Pietro and her.

When Wanda’s eyes had flickered back to you, she caught you staring at the box and sobbed out, “That was the only picture I managed to keep after HYDRA.” Looking longingly at the image, she slowly reached forward to pick it up by its frayed edges, holding it gingerly and carefully in her hands as if one wrong move would tear the whole image into a million unfixable pieces.

As the both of you stared down at the picture, an idea struck you. Perhaps Pietro wasn’t here anymore but that didn’t mean Wanda couldn’t still celebrate Hanukkah. You just had to convince her.

And you knew exactly what to do.

“Where did all the Christmas decorations go?”

Hearing Wanda’s voice drift into the living room, you forced yourself to stop bouncing on your heels and compose yourself. Fighting down the continuous need to grin, you wrung your hands behind your back, quivering with anticipation as you awaited Wanda’s judgment of what you had done.

Seeing the awestruck look on her face as she stepped into the living room, surveying her surroundings, you couldn’t stop the giggle that had managed to sneak its way out of your mouth. “How? What?” Wanda stumbled over her words, mouth dangling wide open as her eyes lingered on everything you had recently set up in the living room.

Finally, her green orbs settled onto you, who stood in the centre of it all. The corners of her mouth immediately quirked upwards whilst her heart started to pound faster and louder, something that seemed to happen more often whenever she was around you.

Slowly approaching you, she waved her arms around the room, gesturing to the new decorations that replaced the Christmas ones you had previously put up. “Did you do this?” She whispered, her eyes shining with gratitude and astonishment.

Shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly, you tried to keep the rising smile at bay by biting down hard on your lip. However, the moment the Sokovian caught the way your mouth had twitched, she instantly knew that you were fighting a smile.

Standing an arm’s length away from you now, Wanda elegantly arched an eyebrow, folding her arms and tilting her head to the side, waiting. She knowingly waited for your excitement to get the better of you so that you would finally lose the patience that was already slipping away from your fingers and answer her.

Sure enough, an infectious smile rivaling the warmth of the sun stretched onto your face, giving Wanda the answer she needed. Nodding your head enthusiastically, you showed a moment’s hesitance by biting your lip before all the words rushed out of your mouth in a hurried craze, as if you were worried that you would forget them if you didn’t say them immediately.

“After seeing you sad, I just couldn’t stand by and let you continue to be in pain. I had to do something, anything to make you happy. So,” You gave a pause to let your eyes flicker over to the Hanukkah related decorations you had painstakingly put up, pride practically radiating from you.

You shot the woman a smile that just seemed so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness that unexpected warmth rushed through her. “I did all this, to show you that even though Pietro isn’t here, there are other people that want to celebrate Hanukkah with you.” You finished, face now flushed in embarrassment at how mushy you sounded.

Just as Wanda thought things couldn’t get any better, you pulled your hands out from their stiff position behind your back, raising them towards the Brunette to reveal an album. Startled at the aspect of another surprise for her, Wanda shakily reached out to gingerly take the album from you.

Face shining with anticipation and appreciation, the girl forced herself to move her fingers to flip through the album. The moment she flipped to the first page, her eyes widened at what she saw. Staring back at her were photos of Pietro and her. Awed, she flipped through the pages slowly, taking her time to let the images soak into her brain and to comprehend that this wasn’t just a dream.

“Tony has a camera installed in his suit to record everything he sees, so I just asked him to help print out pictures of both of you from said recordings. I also got help from SHIELD and almost every orphanage you and Pietro entered for your child photos. Also-”

At this point, Wanda’s heart was bursting with love for you, grateful and amazed that you would cancel your favourite holiday, which you had been harping on about since the first of December, and collect all these photos just to make her happy again.

Letting out a tiny gasp, she clasped a hand over her mouth to hide the ear-splitting grin that was rising onto her face, reaching out her other free hand to grab yours. Her abrupt action had caught you off guard and in turn, cut you off mid-sentence of your enthusiastic rant.

Trying to convey her joy through squeezing your hand, she found that the action wasn’t sufficient enough to show her gratitude and decided to pull you towards her, opting instead for a hug. Wrapping her arms around you, she held you close to her while she settled her chin on your shoulder, her smooth locks brushing against your cheeks.

Suddenly, she found herself unexpectedly sobbing once again, this time not in pain but in elation. Eyes brimming with tears, she didn’t try to hold them back, knowing she couldn’t even if she wanted to. She let them flow freely from her eyes, letting them roll down her cheeks and off her sharp jawline before they got soaked up by your shirt.

Pulling away, she held her breath as she watched you swipe your thumbs over her remaining tears, finding herself unknowingly leaning into your warm touch. Out of nowhere, an idea struck her and she gathered up the same courage she always did before a battle, planning to put this idea into immediate action.

“Look, a mistletoe.” She breathed, admiring how adorable you looked when you furrowed your eyebrows, confusion written all over your face as you peered upwards to check and to indeed see a mistletoe hanging between you and Wanda. You took a sharp intake of breath, eyes widening at the realisation of what you soon had to do.

Stammering, you felt your cheeks heat up to form a blush whilst you tried to distract yourself from the inevitable. “I swear, I thought I got rid of every Christmas decoration…” You trailed off, absolute puzzlement laced in your words. Wiping the cheeky smile off her face, Wanda gave a tiny lift of her shoulders, looking like the epitome of calm when inwardly, she was anything but relaxed.

“Kissing under the mistletoe is a Christmas tradition, isn’t it?” She asked innocently, tilting her head to the side and reminding you of a puppy. Nodding your head dumbly, you gulped loudly, eyes fluttering down to look at Wanda’s kissable and inviting lips before focusing back onto the Sokovian. “We can’t break a tradition, especially a Christmas one,” She continued.

Moving your head up and down again, you held your breath as she tugged harder on her grip around your waist, pulling your body against hers. Face flushed, her moment of boldness quickly dissipated as she hesitated, loosening her hold on you. Seeing how nervous Wanda also was, you brought your arms up to coil around her neck, a move clearly made to urge her on.

Filled with courage once again, the usually shy girl once again added more pressure to her hold on you, seeming more sure of her actions. As cliche as it sounded, time seemed to slow down for the both of you as you noticed every tiny detail of each other’s faces. Agonizingly slow, Wanda leaned forward to seal your lips with a kiss but your patience soon wore thin and you closed off the gap between the two of you.

Both of you pressed your lips against the other’s, aware of every contact your bodies made with each other. It was soft and sweet, and you never wanted it to end. Unfortunately, breathing was a thing and thus, the two of you pulled apart reluctantly, such a small action causing both of you to end up breathless.

“You put up the mistletoe, didn’t you?” You tried to question blamingly, only to end up asking in a soft panted whisper. The corners of Wanda’s mouth pointed skyward, answering your question and making you laugh for some reason.

Your laughter, which Wanda found was warm and bright just like the sun, was soon cut off by the Brunette molding her lips against yours again, a single thought running through her mind.

Perhaps Pietro was no longer by her side and she couldn’t do the same traditions she always did with him during Hanukkah but she had you now, not to fill in her Brother’s void but to remind her that she still deserved happiness.

And for the first time in years, she felt at peace.

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crystallinecrimsonmoth · 4 years ago

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Future Serial Killer [ongoing]

Chapter 7

It had been a week since Carl had last seen Negan when he saw him again, the man sauntering up to him while he ate his lunch on duty. He’d been posted at barrier protection, working under Arat, which had its downfalls. She had already assured him that she was aiming for him and not Olivia, and now she was in charge of him.

Negan going over the rules at dinner that night had been an eye-opener. His rules were reasonable, very reasonable. So much so that the punishments of ironing and death didn’t even make him blink an eye.

He had sat on the couch opposite from Negan, his hand linked with Ada’s as they listened with Daniel to the rules. The man had watched him with dark eyes, a dangerous atmosphere emanating from his posture as he explained everything. Carl had simply stared back into the darkness, unwilling to let himself be intimidated.

Their staring contest lasted all the way through until Negan finished speaking, leaning back against the couch with his arms crossed as he observed the three of them. Carl had been put on the barriers, Ada on medical with Doc, and Daniel was given a kitchen job, his skill in cooking giving him a good position.

That was how Carl ended up perched on a lookout post behind the barbed fences, biting into a fresh apple. He couldn’t believe the quality of the food at the Sanctuary. Almost everything was fresh, warm bread and hot chocolate, it was a dream. If only it wasn’t run by the guy who killed his family.

He had slowly been trying to forgive Negan, but his nightmares still plagued his mind whenever he fell asleep. He’d woken his friends more than a few times, waking up in the middle of the night to Daniel shaking him. He didn’t want to do that to them, but the images never let him sleep peacefully, breaking him into a sweat every night.

‘Hey, kid.’

Carl was broken from his thoughts by Negan’s voice, the man’s heavy boots climbing the metal ladder that led to the grate he was perched on. He settled beside him on the edge, both their legs swinging over the edge.

‘Enjoying your apple?’ Negan raised an eyebrow at him, causing Carl to shrug, biting into it again.

‘I like apples.’

‘Me too.’ Carl put a knife to Negan’s throat when his hand moved behind him, on alert for any moves the man would make to harm him.

Negan let out a huffed laugh, slowly producing his own apple from behind his back and biting into it.

‘You’re a dangerous little thing, aren’t you?’

Carl huffed, retracting the knife, and turning back to look at the horizon.

‘I’m not little.’ He muttered angrily through a mouthful of apple, shoving Negan’s arm with his elbow for good measure.

He could see Negan grinning at him from the corner of his eye.

‘Aww, did I upset the baby?’

‘You’re an asshole.’

‘And you just put a knife to my throat, I’d say we’re even.’

They both went quiet after that, eating their apples and staring out onto the landscape. There weren’t any walkers around, thankfully, so the sun and blue sky were undisturbed by the reminder of the apocalypse.

Carl felt Negan shift beside him, looking to his side to see him bending one leg to sit his foot on the grate. He’d noticed on the day he brought him home that Negan had carved a Lucille symbol into the leather of his boots, the image standing out in his mind from the pistol he had found in his armoury before they even met.

‘Do you carve that into all your shit?’

Negan looked at him when he spoke and then seemed to realise what he was talking about, shrugging.

‘Keeps people away from my shit. You aren’t wearing the gauze.’ He pointed out, wiggling his finger in a gesture towards Carl’s eye.

The teen shrugged too.

‘I’m starting to get used to it, and your people stay away if I leave it uncovered. Must be scared of the scar.’

‘Or it’s that sour puss look you always have on your face. Do you ever smile?’ Negan teased, poking at Carl’s ribs.

The younger man simply swiped his knife at his hand, snarling when Negan pulled away fast enough to avoid injury.

‘Stop touching me.’

‘You really are in a bad mood today, huh? You figured out your age yet?’

‘Eighteen and five months. Denise helped me figure the calendar out.’

Negan nodded, teeth crunching into his apple as he swung his leg underneath the grate.

‘Good. What’s on your mind? Why are you so grumpy today?’

‘I’m always grumpy, psycho.’

Negan chuckled when Carl said that, a deep rumbling sound that distracted Carl from his thoughts for only a second before he was glaring at him again, wondering what the hell just happened. Why did the bastard’s laugh distract him like that?

‘I know you’re always grumpy, kiddo, but this is different. You only call me psycho when you’re angry about something, what are you angry about?’ The man pried and Carl squirmed under his hard gaze, looking down at his apple that was almost finished now.

It took him a moment to answer, his blue eye shutting as he admitted the issue he’d been struggling with since he and Ada gained beds to sleep on.

‘Ada wants to have sex.’

He heard a stuttered laugh from Negan before the man burst into full-on laughter, wiping tears from his eyes.

‘Hey, quit it!’

‘You’re in a pissy mood cause your girlfriend wants to have sex? You’ve been offered pussy and you’re complaining?’ Negan looked like he was going to laugh again before Carl huffed, turning away from him, and standing up to climb down from the lookout.

‘Forget it, bastard.’

Carl heard him sigh and then he was being followed down the ladder as he stalked away from it.

‘Quit being pissed at me, you little shit-’

‘I don’t want to have sex with her!’ Negan was surprised when Carl finally turned around and snapped at him, cheeks flushed with anger.

The man stopped, letting him breathe before he managed to get out what he meant. The teen looked uncomfortable, like it was the worst thing in the world to admit what he just had. He tilted his head at him, reaching a hand out to the kid.

‘Okay, truce, and then we’ll talk like adults. Right?’

Carl hesitated, taking a step back from him with his knife pointed at the man, but he stopped after a moment, nodding.

‘Fine.’

Negan let out a little sigh of relief when Carl handed over his dagger, tucking it into his belt and putting a hand on the kid’s shoulder, leading him back into the compound. The others in the community stared at them, eyes wide and concerned all at the same time as they watched the two walk inside.

‘Get back to work, everyone.’ Negan hummed as they headed upstairs to his bedroom, locking his door once they were there and forcing Carl onto the couch to talk.

‘Speak, no mumbling. What the fuck is your problem today?’ He questioned, settling Lucille against the wall before sitting on the coffee table in front of Carl.

The teen avoided his eyes, arms crossed and eyebrow scrunched.

‘Speak, you little shit.’

‘It’s not funny, Negan.’

‘I didn’t say it was. Carl, just tell me what’s wrong and I’ll help if I can.’ Negan insisted, eyeing him worriedly.

He was worried now, because the kid looked genuinely upset, and he didn’t know how to fix that. There was silence for a moment before he spoke up.

‘I’ve never actually had sex.’ It was an angry mutter, but Negan wasn’t sure if Carl was pissed at himself or him for asking.

He did his best not to laugh at what he said, he really did, but the smallest snigger left his lips. Carl looked enraged when he heard him.

‘Forget it. You’re a dick, Negan, I don’t know why I even- fuck off!’ He huffed out, lying down on the couch and turning away from him so he was facing the cushions.

Negan sighed, rubbing a hand over his face as his laughter died off. He wanted to be a good mentor for the kid, to take over for his dad now that he’d killed him, so it was his job to have the sex talk now. Great.

‘You’re a teenager in the middle of an apocalypse, I wouldn’t expect you to have had a lot of sex.’

When Carl didn’t respond, Negan sat forward a bit and nudged his arm gently to get his attention. He was merely elbowed away. That irritated him, leading him closer to snapping at the teen again, but he didn’t want to do that.

Negan took a breath.

‘Listen, kid. It’s not hard to have sex, I do it all the time! You shouldn’t be embarrassed.’

‘I’m not embarrassed!’

‘Then what are you worried about?!’ Negan snapped back, both of them settling into another argument at this point.

‘I’m worried because Ada is beautiful, and kind, and I don’t think I’m attracted to her that way!’ Carl yelled back, chest heaving as he sat up and turned to face him dead on.

Negan stopped in his tracks at that, reeling back his angry voice and furrowing his eyebrows. He hadn’t expected that from the kid, but he supposed it made sense that he was at a stage of discovery, or maybe he was just finally taking time to figure himself out when there was no imminent danger to his life.

‘Okay…’

‘Fuck off.’

‘Kid, try opening up a little. I’m not your enemy anymore.’ Negan insisted, beginning to lose patience with all the swearing he was getting from the kid.

Carl glared at him, fire burning in his one eye, but something had softened since the last time they’d talked alone, and finally, Negan got an answer.

‘I think I might be gay.’

‘Why?’

‘Because the idea of having sex with a girl makes me feel sick.’ He admitted bluntly and Negan nodded, leaning his elbows on his knees and flicking Carl’s forehead.

‘Okay.’

‘Okay?’ The kid’s head tilted, and Negan managed the barest of smiles, nodding.

‘It’s okay that you’re gay. I’m sure your friends will be fine with it too if that’s what’s worrying you.’ He replied, nudging his shoulder to get him to soften up further.

Carl glanced up at him, his glare gone now.

‘What about Ada?’

Negan shrugged, leaning back, and clapping his hands together once.

‘Well, if she’s your friend and she cares about you, I’m sure she won’t be too hurt. Can’t help biology, kiddo.’

Carl’s eyebrows furrowed again, and he nodded, leaning back against the couch. He was quiet for a moment before speaking.

‘Can I stay with you for dinner? I’d rather talk to them after I’ve eaten.’

Negan nodded with another shrug, picking up Lucille and standing.

‘Let’s go for a walk. Killing shit will help you calm down.’

Carl eyed him strangely, but nodded, getting up and following Negan outside. Negan couldn’t help but feel rather proud that Carl had come out to him, and now he was agreeing to kill things. He was becoming more like Negan every day, and he loved it.

#cegan #future serial killer #chapter 7 #carl/negan #carl x negan #negan x carl

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rudemaidenswrite · 7 years ago

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What is Meant to Be

part 3

author: @pusantheamazonian

part 1: https://rudemaidenswrite.tumblr.com/post/168955583826/what-is-meant-to-be

part 2: https://rudemaidenswrite.tumblr.com/

Giving you space Lukas lets you spend the rest of the day wallowing in the bed wearing some barrowed pajamas. But late in the evening Lukas returns with food, ready to talk whether you like it or not.

“So what happened Ana? It’s been awhile since I have seen you like this.” Lukas lies down next to you.

“These past few weeks have been ridiculous….I became or was romantically involved with Loki. We got into an argument earlier which lead to the current situation. This makes me hurt all over.” You turn and face the wall.

“What was the argument about?” Lukas rubs your back coaxing the answer out of you.

“…It was the same thing you and Lana fought about.” You mumble under your breath.

Lukas pauses thinking about all of the fights he and have had. “Safety? The fight was about keeping you safe?”

“I thought we were doing ok with this new relationship but he blindsided me. Saying when I return to Iowa we need to break up; cease all communication maybe even remove my memories of us. All to keep me safe…I-after he said that I refused. Well then it sort of escalated and I reacted badly…well I ran and called you.”

“Oh Ana.”

“Not like we were official or anything.” You grimace. “These feeling need to go away, I wish it never happened.”

“It hurts because you have never put yourself out there before. This type of love is different.”

“I don’t like it.”

“It will get better; here I brought you some food.” Sitting up Lukas hands you a box of pizza before sliding off the bed. “What movie you want to watch?”

“What do you have?” You open the box to find a stuffed crust pepperoni pizza.

“I got Lion King, Space Jam, and the Harry Potter series, Blues Brothers and Barbie and the Nutcracker.”

“Barbie and the Nutcracker? You have Barbie and the Nutcracker?” You give him a suspicious look.

“Lana left it.”

“Sure she did, well I pick Space Jam.”

“Good choice.” Lukas smiles popping the movie in.

“Ana if you don’t take a shower and get dressed now. I will have Kurt teleport you into the shower and I will give you one.” Lukas is hovering over the bed. He had pulled the blankets away.

“I don’t want to leave this bed!”

“Ana! It’s almost noon, I let you sleep in today because you only got here yesterday. But I will not have you moping around.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” You glare at Lukas.

“Oh I would, so what’s it gonna be?”

Challenging him you cover back up with the blanket. Smiling you hear him walk out the door.

“Sorry about this” Kurt sighs.

Before you can question why you can hear Kurt’s voice. The next thing you know you have gone from hiding comfortably under a blanket to a cold tile floor with water pouring down.

“You ass.”

“I told you what would happen.” Lukas is laughing.

“Not funny.”

“Hey I warned you. Now take a shower the waters running. I will be out here with clean clothes and a towel.” Lukas smiles before closing the curtain.

“You know I really hate you sometimes.” You start to peel off the soggy pajamas.

“I know you mean love.”

“No I mean hate.” You say flinging the clothes at Lukas over the curtain.

“Well too bad you’re stuck with me forever.”

“So is Kurt like a minion of yours or what?” You begin to question Kurt’s devotion to Lukas.

“Nah he’s just a friend. He’s had a rough life.”

“Uh huh what about Scott then?”

“He’s just a stick in the mud.”

“Who hates rule breakers.”

“Ya well most of the people here are rule breakers, so someone has to be the dick. Besides if the Professor knows what you are doing, you’ll be fine.”

“Hand me a towel.” Turning off the water Lukas shoves a towel past the curtain. After a quick dry, you pull the curtain back far enough to see Lukas facing the opposite way. “Hey Aussie! Where’s my clothes?” Lukas jumps slightly causing you to laugh.

“Just get dressed.” Hands you the clothes with a scowl on his face.

Disappearing back behind the curtain you put on the clothes that Lukas has so eloquently picked out. Which is a pair of sweats and an old t-shirt.

“You have a brush or do I need to go find Jean-Paul for one?” Asking you step out from the shower.

Lukas pulls a comb out from his back pocket. Taking it you walk over to the mirror and slowly brush the tangles out.

“Give me that.” Lukas takes the brush back and begins to brush your hair the proper way. “Your hair is getting long.”

“Ya….I’ve been thinking of getting it cut.”

“You have a hair tie?”

“Yup.” Lukas tilts your head back as he begins to French braid your hair.

“Well well, I thought I would find you two in here.” Jean-Paul smiles leaning against the wall.

“And why would you say that?” Lukas smirks.

“Cause Kurt just changed his clothes.”

“You can blame him.” You point at Lukas.

Jean-Paul speaks after watching for a few minutes. “If I didn’t know any better I would say that you two are romantically involved. But I do know better, you two are super close.”

“Well we are close.” Lukas confirms.

“Yeah well I’m like his side hoe.” Lukas gives a sharp tug to your hair forcing you to look at him. “What?”

“Side hoe?”

“Yes?” You respond as a question.

“Give me the hair tie.” Lukas sighs finishing with your hair.

“Well when you two are done fussing. Remy is making lunch and wants to know if you two are coming.” Jean-Paul is laughing his ass off.

“We will be down.” Lukas gathers everything up.

“What’s he making?” You are now intrigued on what lunch is.

“Crawfish etouffee and muffuletta.” Jean-Paul says with a smile.

“So he’s showing off because there is someone new in the house that he can try to woo.”

“You know it.”

“Woo?” You are confused.

“Remy likes to try and woo every new person that moves into the mansion.” Lukas explains walking to the door.

“So he’s a flirt.”

“Yup.” Lukas nods.

You follow Jean-Paul downstairs while Lukas goes to dump the wet clothes in the hamper. “So how many kids are still here for the summer?”

“Currently we have 413 students but only 98 went home for the summer.” Jean-Paul gives a small sigh.

“How do you keep them in reign since its summer?”

“There’s a daily head count to make sure they are here. Couple times a week they are allowed to go to town with a chaperone.”

“Of course.” You nod.

“Mandatory twice a week they have to help Lukas with yard work, but they can do basic whatever they want for the most part. Some still participate in clubs.”

“It’s good that they are staying out of trouble. I know that whenever Lukas came home we hardly separated and would just rotate whose house we were spending the night at. And we acted like hooligans the whole time.”

“Yeah I remember that summer I can home with him to meet all of you. Frankie came up with the idea that we needed to go to Chicago for the weekend because it was her birthday.”

“Oh god yes! You snuck us into the club and then Lucine got us kicked out because she took her shirt off and got into a fight with the bartender.”

“Yeah then we loitered at Waffle House for the rest of the night waiting for the Navy Pier to open so Frankie could ride the Ferris wheel. I was surprised that Lucine was able to smuggle that bottle of fireball out.”

“We were surprised that you didn’t run away and go back to the X Mansion after that weekend.”

“After hearing all the stories from Lukas, there’s no way you could have ran me off.”

“That’s good cause Lukas needs man friends.”

Jean-Paul laughs as he opens a set of double doors.

“Jean-Paul! Glad you could join us.” The accent immediately gives away where the man at the stove is from. It is obvious that he is from New Orleans with his southern French well Cajun accent to be exact.

“Ana this is Remy, Logan and Colossus.” Jean-Paul points to the three people in the kitchen. Remy has an apron on and is stirring a big pot. Remy is tall, broad shouldered with brown hair and red eyes. Logan and Colossus are just as Lukas has described. Logan; scruffy looking but is a very manly lumber jack. Colossus; tall and built, and built you mean built like a body builder with shiny silver metal as skin.

“Ana it’s a pleasure for you to stay with us.” Remy makes his way over to turn on his charm.

“Woah there Casanova, hands off. You better get back to the stove before the food burns.” Lukas appears out of nowhere wrapping an arm around your shoulder to steer you to the chair beside Colossus.

“Hello Anya, pleased to meet your acquaintance.” Colossus gives you a genuine smile.

“Hello.”

OMG! He has the perfect Russian voice, I can listen to him all day.

Logan doesn’t say anything only stares and chugs his beer. Well the twelve pack he has sitting in front of him. You stare back at Logan waiting to see how long his poker face will last.

“How’s the day drinking going? Cause it’s not all day drinking unless you started this morning.”

Logan cracks a smile while everyone is surprised at his reaction. “It’s going great, I started at 9 AM.”

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eclairdesigns · 8 years ago

Text

All of Me (Rick Grimes/OC)

Nina Zedler sometimes just doesn't seem like herself, and with good reason: She's living with dissociative identity disorder, a condition that causes her to shift between multiple identities without warning. As medication becomes scarce in this new world, Nina soon begins to lose control over her alters. Her loving brother, Elliott, copes with the situation as best he can, but neither he nor their comrades can be sure who will greet them as the day progresses.

CHAPTER ONE

"You do know he's gonna be pissed when he realizes we left, right?" He panted and shut the door behind them.

Her mouth quirked into a smirk as she wiped the sweat off her brow and took a few steps towards him, planting a chaste kiss on his lips before pulling away. "Yup. But this can't wait."

He caught her by the wrist, pulling her back to him. "Why not? We have nothing but time."

Before she had a chance to say a word his hands were on her, frenzied and hungry, entangling in her hair to pull her into a deeper kiss. His tongue immediately slipped past her lips to stroke her own with a kind of urgency and aggression she had never seen from him before. His hands grabbed her thighs and hoisted her up, pressing her against the wall.

Kissing Zeke felt damn nice, but the fact was, they were still on a mission and should be attending to other things besides sexually satisfying one another.

Nina's hands fell to her partner's shoulders, intending to gently disengage from his ravenous mouth, but he must have sensed her intentions because he brought his hands to either side of her face, holding her immobile as he continued to plunder her mouth with his tongue, licking and sucking and rendering her breathless.

It was only when both of their lungs were screaming did he relinquish his hold, pulling away just enough to gasp hotly against her cheek.

"I've thought about this all day," he panted incoherently, molding his large form to her as if he meant to merge their bodies via embrace.

"Zeke," She whimpered.

"We have plenty of time," He said, palming her breast.

"Stop," she ordered, slapping his shoulder lightly.

Reluctantly, he lowered her feet to the floor.

"Am I being punished?" He asked, confused why she was being so steadfast, especially since she clearly wanted him too.

"No."

"You want me." He slipped a hand between her legs, rubbing her through her jeans, making her crazy for him.

She shifted out of his reach. "I do. You'll just have to hurry back from gathering our supplies to find out how much."

Resigned that this would be the end of their rendezvous, Zeke straightened. He smoothed out the faint wrinkles in his skirt and tried to put himself back together, physically and emotionally. Out of fucking Nina mode and back into work mode— not an easy transition when all he could think about was how amazing she'd feel if he pounded her on the checkout counter instead.

Nina came up to him and pressed her warm body into his. She kissed his cheek.

"I promise I'll make it up to you," she said.

"Just hurry back ." The depth of his voice reverberated through her. "The longer I have to the wait, the harder I'm going to fuck you."

She giggled. "You're bad."

His eyes went dark. "You have no idea."

Nina smiled and they went their separate ways inside the store.

She dropped the black duffle bag on the floor and skimmed the pharmacy shelves. Like the other stores, the pharmacy shelves were mostly bare, with some contents trampled onto the floor. After rooting on the shelves and on the floor, she managed to find clean bandages, tape, antibacterial gel, and more painkillers. All of the locked cabinets in the back were all open, the useful medicines long gone.

She cursed, driving her fingers through her hair.

She zipped up the bag quickly but immediately froze when she heard something drop a few aisles down from her.

Nina grabbed the machete from its sheath that was strapped behind her back and picked up her bag, draping it back over her shoulder, heading in the direction of the noise.

"Zeke?" She whispered, tightening her grip on the machete.

Nina's heart was about to rip its way out of her ribcage. He wasn't responding. Did he manage to get himself attacked? Surely he would have warned her and ordered her to retreat. She knew she had to stay calm. She couldn't afford to slip up and get bit by one of those things.

She squatted on her haunches, back pressed to the end panel of the shelf row. She opened her backpack and pulled out a small mirror to get a better view of the next aisle.

"Shit" She muttered, cursing her bad luck.

Two biters were staggering down the aisle away from her.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath to steady her nerves. I can do this, she thought. I can-

*Click*

She opened her eyes and a wicked grin appeared on her face.

She stretched almost lazily. She rolled her small shoulders as if to shake weariness from them, and she massaged the back of her neck.

Finished stretching, she got to her feet and reached for one of the kodachi strapped to her back only to realize her

weapons weren't there.

She sighed and walked to the machete, stooped, and picked it up.

Turning the corner, she whistled catching the attention of the two biters.

She smirked as the two biters slowly turned and staggered towards her, ready to feed on her warm, delicious flesh that she had no desire of letting them taste. She dropped her bags down onto the ground so she could move more efficient.

She lifted her leg and kicked one of the biters in the chest knocking him down onto the hard floor, while she attended to the other. She wheeled around and thrusted the knife down into the biters skull, permanently taking it down.

She pulled the machete out and proceeded to the other that was barely getting up. A scowl placed itself on the woman's face as she pressed her boot against the biters chest, holding him down. As the biter struggled to get up, snapping its jaws at her, she lifted the machete into the air and brought it down hard, severing his head from his body.

Dropping the machete, she picked the severed head off the ground, holding it by the hair. Holding it up, she tilted her head to the side as the biter continued to move and grunt.

Zeke rounded the aisle, quickly followed by Elliott.

"Hey, they found us." Zeke rolled his eyes, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

Elliott's jaw bulged, displeasure written across his features.

"What in the hell were you thinking coming here at this time of the day?" Elliott asked. "I told you we would hit this place tomorrow. One day, Nina. All you had to do was-"

Elliott's words cut short. Directly in front of him, a fat red droplet— another, and a third— fell to the wheat-gold linoleum. Plop-plop-plop. Blood. The first two soaked into the thick cracks on the floor. The third held its surface tension, shimmering like a ruby.

"Nina?" Elliott cautiously approached her from behind.

She was silent.

"Tess?"

Finally, she craned her neck over to Elliott and said, "I need a pike."

Zeke sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Oh, great,"

Elliott turned to face Zeke. "Leave us,"

Zeke cursed and left them alone, his footsteps disappearing to the front of the store. The door slammed shut ahead, the sound echoing up to them.

Elliott turned his attention back to Tess. "What're doing out? Did something bad happen to Nina?"

"Nothing I couldn't handle."

Her voice was flat, her face expressionless, as if he were a stranger.

"I can see that," he said. "Now, could you please put the head down so we can all leave."

She scoffed at Elliott's words and tossed the biter's head in his direction. "Fuck you. Don't tell me what to do."

Elliott took a quick step to the side, dodging the incoming head. "Dammit, Tess. I've told you over a dozen times to stop doing that shit."

"And I've told you over a hundred times to quit running that lip off," she said. "You're annoying."

"Be that as it may, you're still stuck with me," he said.

"At this rate, it won't be for much longer."

Elliott crossed his arms and stared. "What in the hell does that mean?"

"I'm saying your lack of leadership is going to get her killed." She frowned, seeming genuinely irritated.

He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Tess, I'm not gonna argue with you on this. Not now anyway. I need to talk to Nina."

"No. I'll give her back control whenever I'm damn good and ready to," she said. "Now, where are my things?"

Elliott lifted up a black duffle bag and handed it to her.

"I don't understand why you continue to let her dress in this crap," she said. "It's degrading."

Washington was beastly hot today, so Nina had dressed in cut off denim shorts and some layered tanks.

"Yeah, well she's not exactly a teenager anymore now is she?" Elliott leaned back into the counter and crossed his arms.

She squatted on her haunches and unzipped the bag, pulling out a pair of worn out blue jeans, a black shirt, a tactical vest and gloves.

Elliott turned his head away as she quickly dressed. Once finished, she pulled her 9mm pistol and two kodachi out of the bag and strapped them on.

"Are you satisfied, now? Can we please go before it gets dark?" Elliott asked.

"Pussy."

"Shocking."

Tess passed him and headed out of the store where Zeke and Alden waited.

"Tess. You're back." Alden pushed away from the wall and strolled to join her.

She ignored him and carried on toward the street.

"How long are you staying with us this time?"

She stopped abruptly.

"Shut up."

"What?"

In a flash, Tess was on him, pinning him by the throat to the building.

"I said shut up you twit," she hissed.

"Tess!" Elliott hurried over to the two, quickly followed by Zeke. "Let him go!"

Tess finally released him. "Quiet," she ordered.

Tess stood motionless. Listening. Watchful. Breathing deeply, seeking scents. Then for a while she inhaled through her open mouth, catching what she could upon her tongue. All her senses were open wide, irised to the max, and the freshly washed world drained into them.

Finally she could detect possible harm in the evening and turned to Elliott, her face cold as stone.

"We're being followed."

#walking dead #fanfic #fanfiction #rick grimes #original character #twd #rick grimes fanfiction

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