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hiraeth-ink · 1 year ago

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Could I Be Yours (a Joel Miller fic) Part 3

Pairing - Joel x Married Female Reader

Series Summary - You’ve been married for two years now to your long term man Marcus, but with your dwindling sex life and your marriage on the rocks, you came to an agreement. You're allowed to sleep with other men. The only rules? 1- You have to tell your husband about it. 2- No staying the night, you always leave after sex. And lastly, rule number 3, you can’t sleep with the same man more than once. These rules are in place to avoid feelings blooming, but what happens when you meet Joel, and end up breaking all of the rules? Will it break your marriage too? If faced with a choice between Joel Miller and your husband, who would you choose?

Read part 1 and part 2

Chapter summary - With your feelings for Joel making themselves known you try and make a decision regarding your marriage.

Warnings - infidelity, smut, protected + unprotected piv, oral sex (fem receiving), tiny bit of angst, Joel being a menace, Joel being vulnerable, angry Marcus.

Word Count - 7k+

a/n - Tysm for the continued love and support for this series! So so grateful

Your phone pings with a text notification exactly twenty four hours after you left Joel’s house, exactly twenty four hours after you ran away. You didn’t read it straight away, you couldn’t face what you imagined to be a rejection. So, you turned your phone over so the screen was out of view and busied yourself with a deep clean of the house, you changed bed sheets, cleaned the bathroom and the kitchen, hoovered and mopped the floors but you still saw his face when you blinked, his dark eyes engraved into your eyelids. You showered, washed your hair and aggressively cleaned your body, but you still felt Joel’s trail of lingering kisses burning your skin. Unable to uselessly distract yourself any longer, you picked up your phone and opened the text message from Joel.

Everything ok, sweetheart? You kinda rushed off on me. Call me :)

Reading the text, you struggled to gather your thoughts and make sense of your feelings. It wasn’t a rejection, a hey i don't think we should see eachother anymore text, but it didn’t give you any answers either. He seemed so nonchalant, so blase, as if you hadn’t opened up to him about your feelings at all, as if he hadn't completely and utterly confused you.

Unsure of what to respond, you decide against responding all together, for now, at least. You didn’t feel as though you could call him, you couldn’t even decide on words to send him in a text, there was no way your brain would be able to conjure up a response in real time over the phone. So, you put your phone down again and got through the rest of your weekend, trying not to think about him.

Nothing had changed between you and Marcus, not that you expected it to, you lived like roommates, as if you shared this house and nothing more. He came home late on Saturday night and was out of the house before you woke up on Sunday morning, not even giving you a chance to ask where he was going, although you weren’t sure you would, given the chance.

Monday came and went, with little to no interaction with Marcus, piles of work that you had to get done and a missed call from Joel. You didn’t see the call until an hour later and were too swamped to call back, so you left it. That night after work, you contemplated calling him back, Marcus wasn’t home so you didn't have to worry about him hearing, but you were at a loss for words. You had no idea what to say to Joel, but worse than your lack of words were your nerves. You were nervous as to what his words would be, so you didn’t call.

The next day at work was quieter, you didn’t have to eat your lunch at your desk while you worked so you went for a walk on your lunch break, sitting in the park not far from the office with your lunch. As you sat down, you felt your phone vibrating and, fishing it out of your back pocket, read Joel’s name in bold font across your phone screen. Staring at the writing for a few seconds and taking a deep breath, you answered the phone, unable to avoid him any longer. You held the phone up to your ear and watched a bird fly out of a hole in a tree, internally wondering if it was fleeing the nest, like you wanted to and spoke a quiet, “Hi.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” his gruff voice sent shivers down your back, “what's goin’ on, are you ok?”

“I’m ok,” you sigh, mentally kicking yourself for your inability to just let it out, and pause before continuing, “are you?”

“Yeah, I’m just at work,” there was a brief pause, a beat of silence where you both held your phones to your ears, thinking of the right words to say. “Listen, when we were talking that night, I panicked… I kinda froze, I guess.” His voice was apologetic, his normally confident speech was broken into parts by breaks and pauses, stutters and stammers, as if he had thought of what to say beforehand but had more words on his mind. “I shoulda’ said more, I just got nervous,” you heard him take a sip of a drink before continuing, “it’s been years since I’ve felt anything for anyone and…. It's a little weird feelin’ this way for a married woman,” he released a small chuckle at his words, “but I’d be an idiot not to see what happens.”

“I…. Joel I don’t really know what to say,” you answered truthfully, you wished that words would come to your mind, any words other than the ones you spoke, but none did. You were so taken aback by his speech that nothing was coming out of your mouth. Luckily, Joel filled the silence.

“Sarah’s stayin’ at a friends again on Friday. Do ya’ wanna come over?” He asked before quickly adding, “I’ll cook.” As if you needed any more convincing.

“I’d love to,” you said, your smile steadily widening as you spoke.

“And bring some clothes to sleep in this time,” he added, and although his voice was as deep and gruff as ever, you swore you could hear his smile.

“I’d rather wear your clothes to sleep, honestly,” you retorted before saying your goodbyes, with Joel promising to check in with you in a couple days.

After the conversation, Joel was feeling better. His thoughts were still clouded by you, but they were no longer negative. He no longer worried he’d ruined everything by shutting down that night, but his worries were persistent when it came to his feelings. It had been so long since he had felt anything other than lust for a woman, so long since he had wanted to cater to a woman, so long since the word relationship had crossed his mind. This was terrifying for Joel already, but factoring in the fact that you were married to another man made it so much worse. He knew you were unhappy with your husband but he didn't know your plans, he didn't know what you saw for yourself in the future. He didn’t know if you would leave your husband or stay married to him. Worst of all, he didn’t know if you thought about him, the way he thought about you. Joel could no longer ignore the rush he experienced when you were around. The dam inside him had broken and although vulnerability did not come easily to him, he was willing to be vulnerable for you, willing to be open for you. He was ready to expose his heart to you, rip it out of his chest and hold it up to you to show the speed at which it beat when you were around him. He needed to know that you felt the same. That you had to remind yourself to breathe when you saw him, just like he had to do when you looked his way. He needed to know if your heartbeat quickened when you saw him, if it synced with his when you caught eyes.

Joel had never known a woman like you, a woman so strong, intelligent, funny and witty. Joel had never had sex as good as he did with you and Joel had never felt such a wordless connection. He felt the connection immediately, when he looked around the bar that night and found you already looking at him, he felt compelled to approach you. He felt confident under your gaze, just like he felt dizzy underneath your touch, enchanted beneath your spell.

Joel cringed when his mind circled back to the conversation that was had in his bed, his nervous, thoughtless reaction that caused you to leave so quickly the next morning. Watching you leave like that, almost sprinting out of the house, had him reeling, searching his memories for something that would have caused it. He didn't have to backtrack for long, his short answer and haste kiss on the cheek was now engraved into his brain, his own voice taunting him whenever his mind was quiet. It had been so long since he felt this way that his first reaction was to sabotage himself, but he didn't want to do that anymore, he didn’t want to stand in his own way when he could have you.

After a good day at work on Thursday, you ran into a slight problem after arriving home. You had been relying on Marcus going to his weekly guys night on Friday, so you wouldn’t have to lie about your whereabouts. So, your surprise was evident when he’d asked, almost immediately after you’d walked through the door, “How about we have a night in tomorrow? Just the two of us.”

“I thought you were going to your guys night again?” The first half of your answer was genuine, at least, “I made plans with Carrie for tomorrow,” you lied through your teeth, “think we’re gonna’ have a pamper, self care sort of night. I’m sorry.” Although you really didn’t feel sorry at all. Was he really trying now? Trying to spend more time with you, trying to pay more attention to you again? As soon as you stopped showing signs of sadness at his lack of attention, love and time spent on you, he tried to suck you back in, but when you were upset and trying your hardest to make the marriage work, he was nowhere to be found.

“Guess I’ll go see the guys, then,” he huffed loudly, like a child unable to get their own way, and headed for the stairs. Halfway through the living room, he turned around, pointed towards the bouquet that Joel bought for you, and asked, “By the way, who got you those flowers?”. And fuck, you had completely forgotton that you decided to deal with the flowers later, not realising then that later would be almost a week later, with Marcus shooting daggers at you from across the room.

“Oh… I got them,” you began your lie, “for myself. Saw the florist after work on Friday and, I haven’t had flowers in the house in a while so,” you felt yourself starting to ramble so you cut yourself off with a shrug, your heart beating in your ears as you watched him walk away once again.

That night, when you went to bed, the door to the guest bedroom was closed, and you could see a sliver of light underneath the door. Walking into your bedroom, the bed was empty and completely untouched, confirming your suspicions that Marcus had decided to sleep in the spare bedroom. Months ago, this distance would have clutched tightly at your heart like a fist, your eyes would have welled with tears and you would feel only despair for the end of your marriage. But looking at the empty bed, there were no tears, only a dull ache at the thought of the last 12 years spent with Marcus. A dull ache that solidified that you no longer loved him, a dull ache that announced to you that maybe you were ready to leave him. A dull ache that symbolised your decision finally being made.

Going to sleep that night, you decided that you would talk to Marcus about a divorce as soon as you could, that you would look for your own home to move into, one that wasn’t already filled with your own memories, one that hadn't housed you in your unhappiness for so long. For the first time, you slept soundly that night, and awoke excited at the prospect of being alone, of building and focusing on your own life, rather than building your life around someone else’s.

In a shockingly good mood all throughout Friday, you weren’t surprised that you hadn’t seen Marcus all day, but you figured you would be able to talk to him about going your separate ways later on in the weekend, and instead, focused your efforts and excitement on getting ready to go to Joel’s. Opting for a comfortable outfit of denim shorts and a strappy tank top, you headed to Joel’s, nervous excitement brimming inside you. Parking in his driveway and knocking on his door had your heart almost slamming out of your chest, you thought of the last time you had been here, the way you had wanted to leave as quickly as possible. Faced with the prospect of seeing him again, being in his space, you couldn’t wait to walk through the door.

“Well don’t you look cute,” he smiled as he opened the door, moving to the side, gesturing for you to walk past him and inside the house. Taking a second to take him in, you noticed that his hair was wet, slicked back tidily at the front, but his curls were slowly forming at the back of his head, where his hair was drying quicker. He looked so handsome like this, you loved his hair when it was curly and unruly, but like this, you could see his whole face, completely unobstructed and fuck, he was beautiful.

“You look so handsome,” you said, still taking in his appearance, “did you just get out of the shower?” He wore grey sweatpants and a black, short sleeved t-shirt that was once again, impossibly tight around his shoulders and biceps. His big, broad frame would make any shirt look tight on him, as if it were fighting not to break, not to unravel under the pressure.

“Yeah, I did,” he answered while leading you into the living room, where the tv was playing something you couldn’t quite make out, “shame you missed it.” You were worried that you wouldn’t be able to escape the air of awkwardness, worried that the ending of your last meeting would dull the start of this one, but hearing his words and seeing his smirk reassured you that there would be no such thing.

“There’s always time for that,” you laughed as you sat on the sofa beside him and he quickly placed his arm on the back of the couch, allowing you to sink into him. “I was promised food,” you gave him a pointed look as you spoke, “what are you cooking?”

“About that,” he looked at you sheepishly and paused, a small smile on his face, “the more I thought about what to cook, the more nervous I got so I thought we could just order somethin’.” Your grin widened at his abashed expression, finding his words absolutely adorable, and leaned into kiss him, mumbling against his mouth that you had been craving pizza anyway. Joel hummed in approval against your mouth, leaned into the kiss before pulling away to get up and ordering the pizza. He rolled his eyes when you asked for a hawaiian, but relayed the order over the phone with no complaints.

“Said it’d be around 45 minutes, s’ a busy night,” he held your chin gently with his thumb and forefinger, turned your head to face him and softly slotted his lips with yours. His plump lips moved with yours in an easy, almost lazy rhythm as he opened your legs and moved to settle between them, allowing you to feel his already hard length. You wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him deeper into your embrace as he licked deeper into your mouth, you were so close, but you wanted more, you wanted him as close as possible.

“Joel,” you gasped as he started grinding his length into you, the denim of your shorts adding to the friction. His lips moved down to your neck, trailing kisses down your neck to your chest, pulling you top down to expose your breasts before landing his lips on your nipple, lapping his tongue around it and sucking it into his mouth as your breathing picked up, small gasps and whimpers being released from your mouth. “Joel please,” you looked down at him as he moved on to your other breast and repeated the actions, “touch me,” you begged.

“I am touching you, sweetheart,” you whined at his cocky response and moved your hips, grinding upwards to add friction where you needed it most. Joel looked at where you were desperately moving your hips and let out a chuckle, a chuckle that made you feel small and almost pathetic, but also made you all the more wet and needy for him. His hand trailed down your body, from your breast to the top of your denim shorts, dipping beneath the hem and circling your skin with a featherlight touch. “You want me down here, baby?” He asked as he undid the button of your shorts and started pushing them down, you instinctively lifted your hips so he could pull your shorts down completely, leaving you in your underwear, with your hard nipples exposed to Joel’s hungry gaze. Lifting your legs so that your thighs rested against your front, Joel directed your hands to the backs of your thighs and instructed, “Hold em’ right here f’me, baby,” before kneeling on the floor, positioning himself so that his face was level with your clothed pussy. Joel growled as he looked at the wet spot rapidly growing on your underwear, and you watched him with wide eyes as he ran his nose down your seam, from your clit to your hole and back up again and, to your complete surprise, unabashedly inhaling your scent. Your hands moved from holding your legs to holding your face, covering it in embarrassment, but Joel would let you do no such thing. He grabbed your elbows from his position below you and pulled them down. He moved your underwear to the side, licked a stripe up your pussy.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he said before harshly sucking your clit into his mouth and stopping to speak again, “I love everything about this pussy, baby. The taste, the smell,” he said in a low growl, before beginning his attack on your centre. He alternated between licking and slurping passionately at your clit, wrapping his lips around it and sucking it into his mouth, and pushing his tongue inside you. You couldn’t keep your moans to yourself, your body was reacting to his touches loudly and openly, your moans loud and high pitched, while your legs shook every time Joel’s mouth wrapped around your clit.

“Joel,” you gasped, your voice shaky as your eyes fluttered shut, unable to keep them open as Joel continued his merciless attack. Your breath hitched and your eyes shot open when you felt a finger prodding at your entrance, before thrusting in and out of you at a fast pace. “Joel, please,” you said, louder this time, “I wanna come, Joel, please,” you continued in an unstable voice as you looked down at him. Joel didn’t answer with words, but with growls and groans of his own as he tasted you. His fingers curled at that spot guaranteed to make you scream, and his hand moved to your lower stomach, sprawled out adding pressure. You were hurtling towards your release, and recognised a feeling only Joel had pulled out of you before. “Joel stop I’m gonna make a mess,” you spoke quickly, the words coming out jumbled together as your breath quickened drastically.

“I want you to make a mess of my face, baby,” Joel said quickly before reattaching his mouth to you, pushing you further towards release, before speaking again, “give me what I want.”

His words made you give in immediately, no longer caring about making a mess, you gave in to Joel’s movements, your whines becoming more and more high pitched as he continued his movements. You couldn’t speak, only let out incoherent whines and pleas, before your mouth opened in a silent scream, the only sound leaving you was that of your breath hitching and the squelch of the wetness between your legs as it gushed out of you. Joel muttered, “good girl,” as you came down, your breath violently being pushed out of you as you watched him rise from his knees, the bottom half of his face soaked with your juices, as was his forearm. You bit your lip at the evidence of your orgasm that covered him, leaving a shine on his skin.

“I need you inside,” you whispered as he hovered above you, overcome with desire to be full of him. He quickly put on a condom and returned to his position.

“You’re so beautiful,” he muttered as he kissed your temple and leaned back to line himself up with your entrance. “Love watching you come for me,” he said as he pushed the tip inside, the last word of the sentence trailing off into a low groan as he felt your warmth enveloping him.

He pushed inside slowly, allowing you to adjust to his size, before wrapping his arms around your thighs and lifting them up, your feet in the air next to his head, leaving only your shoulders and upper back on the sofa. When he was happy with the position, he started thrusting all the way in and out of you quickly as he held you still by your legs, until the sound of your skin slapping could be heard throughout the room. A moan was forced out of your mouth with each thrust, your throat opening up to release a breath each time Joel filled you to the brim, he fucked you hard and fast while he let out grunts and groans of his own, inbetween strings of praise.

“This pussy feels so fuckin’ good,” he exhaled, and while his voice showed signs of fatigue, his body showed no signs of slowing down as he placed your back flat on the sofa and pushed your legs down so that your thighs rested against your stomach once again. This time, he didn’t instruct you to hold them, but held them down himself as he fucked you. The change in angle allowed him to push inside and reach deeper than before, knocking the wind out of you as he brushed the spot only he could reach. He watched as your eyes rolled back and fluttered closed, your mouth opening to let out loud whimpers and whines at how deep you felt him, and he whispered, “that’s it, baby,” before slowing down slightly, allowing you to feel every inch of him grinding into you. “This pussy takes me so fuckin’ good, you’re such a good girl.”

“So deep,” you replied breathlessly, his praise making your head spin. Joel’s hand suddenly settles at your neck, only applying slight pressure, pressure that, mixed with the fullness his cock gave, made you gasp in pleasure.

“I know it’s deep but you can take it, right?” he asked and you nodded your head erratically, as best as you could with his hand around your neck. “That’s right, my good girl takes it all.” You involuntarily clenched around him at his words, his smirk returning to his lips as he felt the effect that he had on you. “Touch your pretty little clit f’me,” he ordered, his voice breathy but still dominant, “make yourself come on my cock.”

You moved your hand down towards your centre and felt where your bodies met, where he was stretching you out like no one had done before, and surely like no one ever would again. Moving your fingers upwards towards your clit, you moved your fingers in tight, steady circles in an effort to make yourself come, wanting to do everything he asked of you, if it meant hearing even a morsel more of his praise. Your moans grew louder as you grew closer with each grind of Joel’s hips and each flick of your fingers. Between whines and gasps you tried to speak, “Joel, fuck, I’m gonna’,” but the words came out jumbled and broken, “Oh my God, you’re gonna make me,” you broke off in a high pitched moan, the noise accompanied by the squelching sound of your wetness gushing out of you as Joel kept thrusting hard, and he didn’t stop until he emptied into the condom with a low grunt and an extended fuuuuck.

Catching your breath, you watched as Joel ran to grab a cloth, still completely naked, and returned to gently clean you up. He put his boxers and sweats back on, but threw his shirt towards you, grumbling about how that would be comfier than, “those tight ass shorts,” before going to the kitchen. While he was gone, you got up to put your underwear back on and slipped his shirt over your head, feeling comfy and safe, enveloped in his clothes that still held his scent. Joel came back with a glass of water in his hand, “Just realised I didn’t even offer you a drink when you came in,” he placed the glass in your hand before sitting next to you and pulling you close.

“Your southern hospitality’s awful,” you giggled, “fucking me without even asking if I was thirsty?”

Joel opened his mouth to answer but was soon stopped by the doorbell ringing. “‘S probably the pizza,” he mumbled as he got up and walked to the door, paying the man and grabbing the pizza boxes in his hands before turning around and kicking the door closed. He settled next to you on the sofa again, placing the pizzas on the table and opening them up.

The tv was on, but you were hardly paying attention to what was playing, some re-run of an old show with an obnoxiously loud laughing track, you preferred to listen to Joel tell you about his week. He told you about his brother's mistakes that angered him to no end and the shock of his daughter asking him if he was seeing anyone.

“She asked you that?” He nodded at your question as he took a huge chunk out of his slice of pizza, chewing obnoxiously.

“Yeah,” he said, “she’s a little suspicious, I think Tommy might’ve mentioned something.”

“You talk to Tommy about me or something?” You asked teasingly, sitting back on the sofa and huffing at how full you felt.

He threw his last crust onto the pizza box, chewing his last bite before answering, “Had to explain why I kept checkin’ my phone somehow.” He sent you a wink as he spoke, smiling at you as you yawned and quickly tried to cover your mouth with your hand.

“You tired?”

“No,” you said sheepishly.

“C’mon, let’s go to bed,” he held your hand and began tugging you up off the sofa.

“I don’t want to sleep yet,” you whined, not wanting the night to end so quickly.

“We can just relax in bed for a while, baby,” he tugged you towards the stairs, gesturing for you to walk up first. He gave your ass a couple light slaps as you walked up, earning giggles from you. You brushed your teeth side by side, stealing glances at each other in the mirror and Joel left for the bedroom while you used the toilet.

Crawling into bed beside Joel, you inched closer towards him and found comfort in his outstretched arms. You lay facing each other, one of his arms resting underneath your body, allowing you to be as close as you could. He held you with a gentle grip, his big hands were outstretched, one spread across your back underneath his shirt and the other rested on your bicep. His hands were momentarily still, allowing you to feel the warmth of his hands, the heat being transferred from Joel’s body to yours through his soft touch. He continued to look at you as he started moving his hands, his fingers gently moving along your skin, as though he was connecting constellations in the stars. Your eyes followed his fingers carefully, your eyes traced their every move, just as the tips of his fingers traced every curve of your body, every bump or scar on your skin. And under the trace of his fingers, under the gaze of his eyes you felt truly seen. Has anybody seen you the way he saw you then? His gaze was heavy, his stare intense, but you didn’t shy away from his eyes, you didn’t flinch from his featherlight touch, you returned his stare and you returned his caress. Your fingers started moving along the skin of his arms, along the lines in his face, as if off their own accord. You subjected him to the same heavy, all consuming gaze as you looked into his eyes. You subjected him to the same featherlight, earnest touch as you ran your hands down his back, his sides, his arms, his face, anywhere you could reach. Because in that moment you saw him and he saw you.

You moved your hand up to Joel’s now dishevelled hair and ran your hand through it but Joel was quick to stop your endeavour. He grasped your wrist in his hand and turned it around, so that your palm was facing you. You watched as he looked at your hand with a furrowed brow. You couldn’t understand why your hand had captivated him so intensely until his other hand came up to join yours in front of his face, and he traced your wedding band with his thumb.You opened your mouth to speak but no words left your throat, and Joel’s words lingered in the air instead.

“Take the ring off.” He was now looking at you rather than at your ring, his eyes bored into yours as a shocked expression overtook your features. “Please,” he added, almost desperately, his voice nothing more than a whimper. “Just for tonight, I wanna’ pretend you're not his, that you’re mine.”

His confession almost broke you. You had struggled while coming to grips with your feelings but hadn’t thought about how Joel must feel, seeing a married woman, sleeping with a married woman, knowing that she was going home to her husband eventually. You carefully slid your wedding ring off your finger and moved from the bed to place it in your bag. When you climbed back into bed, you placed your left hand, now lacking your wedding ring, onto his cheek and, looking into his eyes, told Joel what you wished was true, “I’m yours, Joel.”

Joel’s lips met yours in a tender kiss, and when they departed, Joel spoke into your mouth, “I’m yours too,” his words left his lips, travelled down your throat and into your body, and devastated you from the inside out, “I’ll still be yours when you go back to him.”

You couldn’t speak, no helpful words came to your mind as you looked into Joel’s eyes. They looked into yours with a sad longing, one that you were sure was reflected in your own eyes. Unable to conjure up the words, you put your lips to his and kissed him deeply, pushing all the words you couldn't say into his mouth, willing him to understand you through your touch. His palm came to rest at the back of your neck, softly keeping you in place as he kissed you back, his tongue licking into your mouth as his other hand went to your lower back and pulled you closer towards him until your front was flush with his. His mouth left yours and placed kisses down your neck while his hands went to the ends of the shirt you were wearing, pulling it up and over your head. You did the same to him, wanting to feel his skin on yours, with nothing between your bodies.

He went to position himself further down the bed, further down your body and slowly spread your legs, but the sudden feeling of emptiness that dominated you made your arms lower to his, and your hands pulled at him to bring his face to yours again. The emptiness could be felt throughout your body, and you knew it would only be satisfied by Joel filling you up. “I just want you inside,” you whispered when his face was level with yours again.

“At least let me open you up first,” he said with furrowed brows, not wanting to hurt you, but pain was the last thing on your mind at that moment. You just wanted him. You wanted to feel him everywhere.

“Please,” you asked, “I need it.” He said nothing in response, only reached over your body to get into the bedside drawer, pulling out a condom. Your disappointment was evident in your face, and you let out a quiet, “no,” that was barely above a whisper. He turned his head to look at you and raised an eyebrow.

“I want to feel you, Joel,” you said, your voice still quiet, “all of you.” Suddenly worried about his response, you added, “I’m clean, I got checked last time I was at the gynaecologist.” You took a deep breath before continuing. “I haven’t been with… him since then.” Your voice was timid and nervous, unsure how to explain that it had been weeks, months even, since you had slept with your husband. You were anxious to bring him up in such a conversation, unable to say his name, you knew he would know exactly who you were talking about.

He grimaced at your words, at the mention of your husband, but quickly hid his distaste, “I got tested after the last person I slept with, I’m clean too” his soft voice matched your quiet words as he placed the condom back in the drawer and pulled you close again. “Are you sure?” he asked, his eyes searching yours for any aversion, any discomfort, but only found a pleading want as you nodded your head and whispered a yes.

He positioned himself in between your legs and kissed you softly while running his fingers through your folds, gathering your wetness onto his hand, circling your clit teasingly once, and spreading your juices onto his cock. His lips didn’t leave yours as he positioned his tip at your entrance and pushed himself inside you, moving inch by inch, creating a delicious burn as he stretched you out and filled you to the brim.

“You feel so fuckin’ good, sweetheart,”

You wrapped your legs around him in an attempt to pull him closer, although it felt impossible. He stayed fully seated inside of you, completely enveloped by your warmth as you both let out gasps and groans at the feeling. When Joel started moving, it was a slow, steady grind. Barely a movement, but enough to cause a delicious friction for both of you. You let out high pitched gasps of his name and he released grunts of yours. Your back arched as his tip kissed that spot so deep inside of you and his arms moved smoothly under your body, wrapping around you and holding you tight. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingers running through his hair and pulling as he pushed heavy breaths out of your lungs.

In a messy, close tangling of limbs that was both greedy and unhurried, needy but not rushed, you felt him deep inside of you. You felt his whole length inside of you as he ground further into you, barely leaving the warmth of your cunt, only wanting to feel close to you, not wanting the separation that came with a full thrust.

“Joel,” you gasped, “Joel, please,” your mouth started to babble, the words involuntarily leaving you as he grunted in your ear, the sounds only heightening your wetness, your pussy clenching around his cock each time you heard him.

“What is it, sweetheart?” He asked with a hard grind of his hips, pushing impossibly deeper inside.

“I want you to fill me up, Joel,” you begged, your voice cracking with need.

“You’re already full o’me, baby,” he chuckled into your ear, taking your earlobe in between his teeth, licking and nibbling while continuing the rhythmic grind of his hips.

“No, Joel,” you were cut off by a loud moan leaving your throat as his hand slipped between your bodies to your clit, his fingers moving in tight, unfaltering circles to match the press of his hips. “I want you to come inside me.”

Joel groaned loudly as soon as the words reached his ears, gasping your name in equal parts shock and contentment. He pulled his head back to look into your eyes, his eyebrows raised in a wordless question.

“I have an IUD,” you said while pressing your hands into his lower back, wanting him, needing him deeper. His fingers moved quicker on your clit as he groaned at your admission, his hips faltering slightly.

“Such a fuckin’ good girl for me,” he grunted out, “lettin’ me stuff you full.” You moaned at his words and clamped down around his cock. The steady grind of his hips had now faltered and he was thrusting in and out of you slowly, but he was just as deep as before. This change in movement caused his tip to brush that spot over and over, in a quick procession. This, mixed with his words and grunts in your ear and his finger running firm circles on your clit made you come completely unannounced. It hit you like a wall and there was nothing you could say, you came with your mouth open in a silent scream, your walls clamped around his cock and fluttered gratefully. Your chest moved up and down with heavy breaths as Joel continued to fuck into you, pushing so deep inside and moaning your praise.

“That’s my good girl, fuck,” his grunts were becoming louder, deeper as he hurtled toward his orgasm, his hips stammering the closer he got. “Tell me you’re mine,” he said, his voice a mix between a plea and a command. “Fuckin tell me you’re mine,” he repeated, louder than before.

“I’m yours, Joel,” you said through moans, he was fucking you hard and deep, messy and hurried. “I’m yours,” you repeated once more before pleading, “come inside me, Joel.”

He let out a low growl at your words, and pushed himself deep, so that he was fully seated inside you, and let go, coming inside of you before pulling out to watch his spend trickle out of you, pushing it back in with his fingers before it could go far.

Exhausted, you lay down and closed your eyes, feeling the absence of his presence for a moment, until he returned to clean you up and got into bed beside you. You had read and read but never understood the feeling expressed in Jane Eyre of feeling so close to a lover, of being bone of his bone, and flesh of his flesh. You had certainly never felt that close to Marcus. But in that moment, lying there with Joel, with your wedding ring thrown to the side and forgotten, your skin connected to his, your legs tangled together, as if you had tied yourselves to one another in an effort to keep each other near, you felt it, you understood.

The last thing you remembered before falling completely asleep was Joel placing a soft kiss on your temple.

You woke to an empty bed the next morning, the sheets crumpled and still warm to the touch on Joel’s side. Getting out of bed, you put on Joel’s shirt again and brushed your teeth in the bathroom before walking towards the stairs. At the top of the stairs you were met with the sight of Joel walking up, with a cup of coffee in each hand.

“Go back to bed,” his soft command was met with a look of confusion from you. “My plan was to wake you up with coffee in bed,” he explained, “so go back to bed.” You giggled at his thoughtfulness and upon hearing Joel’s quiet, “please,” turned around and walked back to the bedroom, settling into bed once more. You listened to the patter of his footsteps up the stairs and towards the room and the sexy gruff of his voice wishing you a “Mornin’, darlin’,” as he walked in, as if he hadn’t already seen you that morning.

He placed a cup of coffee in your outstretched hands and sat in bed beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and kissing your forehead.

“Thank you, Joel,” you whispered, smiling up at him, leaning up and pressing your lips against his. Last night was still at the forefront of your mind and you were overcome with emotions you couldn’t quite explain.

“Listen,” Joel began, “I meant what I said last night,” his words came at exactly the right time.

“I want you,” he explained, “and not just like this, I want all of you. But I need to know what your plans are, I need to know I’m not getting invested for nothing.” He took a deep breath before continuing, “You might be mine for now but when you go home to him, I still belong to you. So I just, I need to know.”

“I’m not staying with him Joel. It’s just, it's a big thing, a long process.” You wished you could give him more reassurance, but you weren’t sure what you could say that would put his mind at ease. You looked into his eyes and said, “I want you, not him.”

Joel’s hand came up to your cheek, lightly stroking the skin next to your ear with his thumb, “I don't want to put pressure on you, I just need to know that this is going somewhere.”

“It is,” you promised, “I’ll talk to him.” You pressed a kiss to his lips, as if you were sealing a promise, and felt nothing but happiness and safety.

The rest of the morning passed in pure domestic bliss, Joel cooked breakfast and you both drank another coffee while you talked over the show that was on tv. When it was time for you to leave, you reluctantly got dressed and gathered your things and climbed into the car, rolling the window down. Joel stood next to the window and leaned in to kiss you goodbye. Unable to leave yet, the goodbye kiss turned into an I don’t want to go kiss, full of uncertainty and words you wanted to say but couldn’t quite articulate. Pulling away you settled on a meek, “bye,” while Joel promised to call you soon. Joel watched and waved as you reversed out of his driveway and drove away, both of your minds full of possibilities for the future.

Your drive home was uneventful. You felt positive and excited, you were finally clear on your plans. You knew that you had to speak to Marcus about your marriage, suggest a separation and request a divorce and although you knew this would be difficult, your happiness was worth it, with or without Joel in the picture. You expected to arrive back to an empty house, like you normally did. What you didn’t expect to see was Marcus sitting at the dining table, facing the door, as if he was waiting for your return.

With shock evident in your voice, you let out a weak, “Hi,” but upon noticing the expression on his face you added, “are you ok, Marcus?” He looked disappointed, his hand held the bottom of his face and his brows were furrowed together.

“Where were you last night?” His question threw you off, and you scrambled to answer.

“I was at Carrie-”

“I know you weren’t at Carrie’s so I’ll ask one more time,” his voice was raised and firm, “where were you last night?” He spoke slowly, the anger he felt slowing down his speech. You knew then that the expression on his face wasn’t disappointment, it was anger, fury. You felt frozen on the spot, your mouth sewed shut with shock, you didn’t move or speak, only looked down at your feet, nervously bringing your hands together and fiddling with your thumbs.

Your heart jumped at the next words from Marcus, his booming voice only adding to the thumping acceleration of your heart.

“Why aren’t you wearing your ring?”

Thank you so much for reading!! Comments and reblogs are always appreciated :) Part 4 soon

Taglist - @untamedheart81 @smol-beb @harriedandharassed @southernbe

@urfknlame @sheepdogchick3 @csarab615 @janellesbody @anoverwhelmingdin @milly-louise@joeldjarin@mumma-moonchild@faith-alons26

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nixie-writes-aot · 1 year ago

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Reactions to S/O with Abusive Family

Warnings: mentioned abuse, abuse of power/status, hurt/comfort, fluff

Characters: Reiner Braun, Bertholdt Hoover, Zeke Yeager

Author's Note: This was written purely because I wanted some hurt/comfort fjndkdmd. There are two other parts because theres like 9 characters I wrote this for

Reiner Braun

Oh boy

Family is something that means a lot to Reiner. Especially s4 Reiner. He would do anything to protect his own so someone hurting their family member?

He can't fathom it

Reiner just wants to hold you close, shield you from everything that would dare even try to hurt you

Reiner is a broken man in many aspects but you make him feel whole, you make everything okay do seeing you hurt is not something that Reiner ever wants

When you come to him? Hurt and even scared? He wants to know why, he wants you to know he's there and always will be

Reiner is stunned when you tell him the stories, the way you feel around your family, how you felt the end to always always apologize or people please just to avoid conflict

Reiner decided then and there that he hated your family, that there was no excusing how they had been adults around you and instead of nurturing you, destroyed any semblance of a child that had existed within you

He pulls you close, enveloping you in a hug and let you sob and cry into his chest

Reiner had decided he would do anything just to help you move on from them

Although Reiner could barely hide his relief and a touch of disappointment when you said you hadn't seen them in years

Reiner was half tempted to mention his desire to make them suffer using his rank as Vice Chief but opts to keep that from you. For the moment, at least. Time and place and all

Bertholdt Hoover

When you tell him, Bertholdt is quiet at first. He's the kind to process things a touch slowly

But he is horrified

Bertholdt became a Warrior for his sick father, not unlike Pieck, so when you tell him that you admire that but could never do the same for your family? That some fathers never earn the love of their children?? Bertholdt is stunned

Not because of the "but family is family" bullshit no no. Bertholdt is stunned at how you're opening up and with him of all people and the fact that anyone would dare hurt you

Bertholdt mutters about wanting to hurt them for hurting you

This is a man who was pushed into killing hundreds just because he was convinced that Eldians were devils and those who were on the island were the worst of the worst

You can't tell me when faced with the story of how your abusers are still alive, he would be kind

Well. To you, he is kind

To them? He wants to feed them to the titans

Bertholdt slowly but surely pulls you close, buring his face in your chest and whispering positive affirmations that you are worth loving, deserved so much better, and are one of the best people he had ever met

Zeke Jeager

When you tell Zeke about it, he remembers his own parents

How only his grandparents earned his love and how his father especially received his ire

In Zeke's mind, Tom Ksaver is still his real father. Even if he had to eat him in the long run

Zeke is an odd man and he doesn't really emote much but he takes a hit off his cigarette, puts it out and turns to you. Zeke offers you a sympathetic nod, an apology, and pulls you close

Zeke, unlike Reiner, would absolutely use his position as the Warchief against the people who hurt you most

Zeke would lull you to sleep, letting you sleep in his bed and feel all the perks he gets as a Warchief that can actually speak during meetings with Marleyans

His sweet nothings persistent until you've drifted away and then he steps out, probably finds Yelena while he leans beside him with a cigarette

"Find two people for me. Full name and everything, then frame them. Make them suffer. They've hurt someone I care about greatly."

Yelena doesn't even have to ask who that person is, she knows its you so she does so without question nor fail

When you hear the news, you climb into his lap and sigh, kissing him sweetly and thanking him for the small amount of justice you get to see served

Zeke would do just about anything for you, he's sure of that much

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preciadosbass · 3 months ago

Text

28/7/14 [draft from yesterday]

woke up at 11:47 to my parents in my doorway. mum started putting stuff on my bed but i though it was just stuff of mine that id left around the house but it turned out she’d bought me some stuff which is really nice. she got me socks [because i only have one non-fluffy pair], slippers [because our dogs hair is everywhere and my pyjamas end up getting the hair all over the house, even after the place has been hoovered], and purple trainers [because beforehand i only had my converse + knee high converse, and they were both getting muddy and causing me blisters when i go on walks.] i feel extra bad about the argument we had last night now.

i was super tired and my eyes still felt like they were glued shut but i decided not to go back to sleep. i got a little anxious when i saw my ex bestfriend was sad so i sent him a message telling him that i’m here for him and stuff. i still care about him so much, even if we don’t talk anymore. i watched a mikey way complication and listened to a podcast with the way brothers on up until 1:20 when i had a nap [im lazy, i know]

i should mention, i had the weirdest dream. so excuse how bad this explanation is going to be. me and kellin [quinn] were both teens and we were at a restaurant. he had tacky plastic skates on and started doing backflips in them? and running on the spot and joking about being chased? it was such a strange dream to have, especially because i haven’t had one in ages. also, my dad was there for some reason lmaoo

i woke up at around 2 and stayed with boris until 3:20 before i had something to eat and started researching a few crime cases. id been thinking about reading a bit of my sylvia plath book but i got in another argument with my parents [not really with my dad] and practically went into sensory overload so i went in my room and scrolled through ed related things on reddit. although i just wanted to have a conversation with them.

my dad lets things go easier, but mum tends to start saying ‘maybe you’d be happy if i’m not here’ and stuff like that, which i have never and would never imply to her. it just makes me feel like shit, she acts like i’m not allowed to be mad. and i feel absolutely terrible writing this, especially because of the whole gift thing from earlier, and i know shes probably just stressed, and i love her, but nobody acknowledges that i am too. they never do, whatever i do seems to anger my mum. anyway, i spiralled writing this and i don’t wanna turn it into a complete vent post, so let’s carry on.

i carried on scrolling through reddit until like 8 where i went on a walk with all of my family [which we haven’t done in at least a year]. didn’t get off to a good start because the second i walked outside my sister dropped her phone on our rock driveway and smashed her phone to pieces.

she was arguing about paying for the damage up until we got to the park when she went back home with my dad. me and my mum carried on walking while we did would you rather because anything else was starting an argument. we ended up doing so right before we got home but at least i walked for an hour today, i wish it’d been more though. also at one point she asked me if i was questioning my gender like WHAT?? why didn’t i take the opportunity to tell her ffs.. when i got home i obviously said hi to boris and then scrolled on twitter for a bit.

one of my acquaintance’s [i call anyone my age that i know that, because i know people, but they’re not nice to me whatsoever, we don’t hang out, they bully me, i don’t consider them a friend etc] was being their usual self again. i try everything i can to politely escape them/avoid them but i just don’t know how. id feel bad cutting contact with no explanation but if i told them all the disgusting things they do they’d deny it. but i know i have to at some point, they’re such a bad person and i’m tired of putting up with them.

anyway, i feel like i seem like a bitch for not liking them, and the problem in every scenario i’ve written about today so let me know if anyone actually reads this and wants to know what makes her such a bad person. after seeing that i listened to some evanescence and i was just about to put on my fight club dvd i got from a bootsale a while ago when my dad said he was ready for me to ask questions about boris soon so i went up to their room.

we actually didn’t argue tonight because i was able to get on with it quite quickly so i did my teeth and said goodnight to boris around 3. he again started purring before id even started stroking him, he’s so precious. also went over my cals by like 60 today so that sucks

have a good day/night -_<

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suckerforcate · 2 years ago

Note

Hi there! can you write something where reader gets insecure bc she has thick thighs and Larissa realizes it bc once they’re about to get intimate for the first time reader asks her to turn the lights off, kinda angst but fluffy at the end ( maybe a bit smutty? )

love your work <3

Insecurities

Pairing: Larissa Weems x Reader

Word Count: 747

Warning: insecurities, NSFW, 18+, slight but still relatively grafic smut at the end

A/n: Thank you!! Really liked this Idea, enjoy! <3

Larissa hungrily kissed you and ran over your lip with her tongue. She lifted you up, hands on your ass to hold you and carried you to the bedroom. Gently she put you down on the bed and hoovered over you.

Larissa and you had been dating for a few weeks now, and it felt like a dream. You were happier than ever and now you both felt you were ready to take the next step. You were about to sleep together. And as exiting that was you were a bit scared. You had always had problems with insecurities and never had you been so intimate with someone before. You knew Larissa loved you to bits, but still she hadn't seen you naked yet.

Larissa planted kisses all over your neck but just as she was about to take of your clothes, you stopped her. Her movements directly got to a halt, and she looked at you.

"Could we turn off the light?" You couldn't even look at her right now, that's how embarrassed you were. She immediately climbed off of you and sat down on the bed next to you. You covered your face with your hands. You felt extremely sheepish. You had ruined everything, the moment was wonderful until you made a problem out of it.

"Darling, please look at me." You slowly sat up and uncovered your face.

"Please, (Y/n)." She gently pushed your chin up, there was no way around it. You had to look her in the eyes now. She smiled comforting.

"Why would you want the lights off? I'd very much like to see you while loving you." You didn't miss the kindness and genuineness in her voice, still your mind forced you to ignore it.

"That's what you say now."

"And it's also what I'll say later." She was confused and that was clear on her face.

"Well, maybe not. Maybe you'll see me naked, and then you change your mind. I have very thick thighs, it's looks horrible. Also, there are stretch marks on them, it's just not very pleasant to look at." You broke the eye contact, afraid of her reaction. But to your surprise you were pulled into a tight hug. Larissa gently stroked your back and placed a kiss on your forehead.

"Oh, love. That just means that there is so much more of you for me to love. I will most definitely not change my mind. I love you and that I'll do no matter what." She gently ran her hand over your cheek and smiled at you. Oh, how you loved that woman.

"Thank you, I love you. Really, I don't think words can explain how much." You hugged her, being pulled closer by her strong arms. Sitting in her lap, she looked down at you.

"If you don't want to do this right now, then that's absolutely fine."

"No, I want it. I do. I need you." Larissa smiled, a smile you could bathe in. Full of love and adoration, all directed solemnly at you.

Gently she pushed you down and climbed on top of you again. All while taking off your clothes and caressing your body with kisses, she complimented you. Every little part of you. From your eyes, over your breasts to the way your hips looked. And as she had uncovered your thighs, she didn't stop. She told you how beautiful they were, kissed then up and down and as she was eating you out and had your leg laying on her shoulder she constantly had a hand on your thigh stroking and caressing it.

She made you feel things you didn't think were possible. And in this moment, laying in front of her, completely exposed and a moaning mess, you realised what it meant to make love to someone.

As she was finished with you, you were completely exhausted. But in a good way, a very good way. This woman would be the death of you. The way she had towered over you, looking you in the eyes as you came, having complimented every little last of you and know mere seconds later, she was cleaning you up and tucking you into bed. For a second you wanted to protest, she had pleasured you, so why shouldn't you return the favour? But she immediately shushed you.

"It's okay, (Y/n). I can wait, next time. This was all about you." And with that you fell asleep, safe in her arms.

#wlw #larissa weems x you #larissa x reader #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #principle weems #gwendoline christie x reader #gwendoline christie #wednesday netflix #wednsday addams #wednesday

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juvenillia · 1 year ago

Text

~ second death ~ Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x fem!reader [hurt fic]

summary: Johnny has to prepare himself for a special day, that he never believed would come.

a/n: what can I say? I read this quote and had to get those broken feelings out of my system sorry not sorry we like to suffer

cw/tw: angst, hurt (no comfort), mentions of loss, death, petnames, there is some fluff in between

worcount: 1.8k

》Read on AO3《》Master Post《

"There was before you and there was during you. For some reason, I never thought there would be an after you." - Colleen Hoover

The look in the mirror, nothing more than a tired reflection of him, staring in the distant. Johnny always knew that his job was hard. That it was full of vicious events repeating one another. But he always came back, especially after he found a reason to which to return to.

"Can I help you?", you asked him with your sweetest smile. He only stood there, literally staring at you. When he was on leave, he always dropped by the traditional bakery in his hometown. Mr. Kringle would already know what he ordered. It was always the same, a pair of the fudge brownies with white chocolate inside and a regular coffee. He didn't expect to be greeted by a new face. "Uhrm. Can ye recommend something?" He suddenly sounded so insecure. So, unlike his physical appearance. Your eyes trailed over the different things separating the two of you behind the glass. "I do fancy these. They're sweet but not to over the top and go perfectly with a black coffee." You explained softly pointing at the baked goods. He didn't even look at them, his eyes are pinned at your soft features. Trying to burn every feature in his brain and he only nodded. "Would you like anything else?", you said soothing while packing his order with such a careful and lovely manner. "Yer number." He was so straightforward, his voice much more confident and you couldn't help the blush growing on your cheeks. Of course, you gave him your number.

He changed; the last mission was harder. Harder than he ever thought, because for the first time he had the feeling, the fear, of not returning. And somehow, he didn’t. A part of him stayed there. A part of him died in Las Almas. That was the first time John MacTavish died. His glance flashes to the bed of your shared bedroom. Well folded sheets, silky in a wonderful olive green. They still hold your scent. It is the only thing that keeps him sane. It is the only thing that lulls him to sleep. He wasn’t able to change those sheets since he returned.

"I like the green ones. They complement the lights when the sun rises.", you chimed while holding the fabric in your delicate fingers. "Whatever yer want, mo ghraidh." [my love] he placed a soft kiss onto the crone of your head. "Johnny.", you exhaled jokingly annoyed. "What?" - "It's gonna be your home too, you can't let me decide everything.", you said while placing the sheets in the shopping cart and hooking your arm around his. He only smiled at you. "Whatever makes you smile, makes me happy."

His eyes return to the image in the mirror. He adjusts the bow tie around his neck. Smoothing out some wrinkles in the suit he wears. He hates suits. Especially this one.

"Bloody ‘ell, MacTavish. It isn't that hard to pick a damn suit.", Simon exhaled annoyed while Johnny puts on what feels like the millions suit. "It has to be perfect. Alright?!", he yelled from the changing room where he just fought with those tight pants. Maybe he gained some muscles again and should buy a larger one. You definitely wouldn't mind. "She isn't marrying the suit; she is marrying ya. And that is already a miracle itself mate.", Simon explained while scrolling through his phone. Johnny paused his movements and grins like a mad man. Bended over he looked in the tiny mirror in front of him, but not at himself. More like in the distant. " 'm gonna marry her.", his voice is filed with pure sincerity.

His fingers run over the side of the bed where you always slept. The mattress still having an imprint of your figure where you were lying all the time. The spot he now sits down and would just love to be swallowed by the soft mattress.

"Love...", you exhaled only above a whisper. He only pushed him closer into you, his head resting on your chest and counting your heartbeat while trying to steady his own. You absently let your hand play with the strand of his hair. "It’s alright. I’m here with you.", you chimed in your sing song voice. He only nuzzled his head further into you while squeezing your sides. "I love ya, bonnie." You only kissed the top of his head. “I love you too.”, he closed his eyes again and drifted away once more.

His eyes trail over to the window. Showing a little garden. It was neatly organized. Flowers blooming everywhere. The ones right in front if the window, they were your favorites.

"MacTavish, you're an unbelievable idiot.", you cried out while cleaning the mud from your face. He wrapped his arms around your waist, hands full of dirt. "And all yours, my dear.", he chimed while picking you up and swirling your around. Holding you close in his embrace. "Forever, yours.", he repeated softly before letting your lips meet his. You cupped his cheeks, but mostly to get revenge. Greasing the mud all over his face, just like he did a few minutes before. "Ya gonna regret that." He snickers, while you pulled out if his embrace and started running away from him. The laugh never ending while he chased you and pulled you down into the still wet grass and planted kisses all over your face. It was his favorite melody.

He pushes himself up from the bed and goes downstairs. Simon is already here, as well as Kyle. He looks at them, wearing those suits he knew too well. They look back at him. Their faces wear a weak smile, and Johnny only nods before his eyes drift over to the kitchen to the right.

"Bonnie, we have guests.", Johnny yelled out while entering your house. You walked downstairs to greet his teammates. "Nice to see you again. Tea?", you chimed while heading over to the kitchen and pulling the kettle down from the shelf. "I still think ya don't deserve her, Soap.", Kyle said while following you. "When yer hold hostage blink twice.", he said looking at you, and Johnny just pushed him gently in the side. "Ya can always call, when he does something stupid.", Simon assured you. Pulling out their usual mugs from the shelf above you. "So, you mean like all the time?", you asked jokingly. You all laughed. During these times the world seemed alright.

It's silent. The two men only look at him, nodding silently. Johnny swallows hardly before heading outside to Simon's car. The taller man taking the driver’s seat. Johnny sinks int the passenger seat and closes his eyes.

"You won't drive. Please you're way too battered, love.", you pulled him away from the driver’s seat and he lets you. Simon gently took the keys out of Johnny's hand. "Aye. But you dae wanna make out with me still. Eh?", his walk was sloppy as you helped him in the backseat, still wearing the smile you fell in love with in the first place. Kyle took the passenger’s seat in the front. "Always." You placed a quick peek on his cheek while securing the seatbelt before moving into the car next to him. Reaching out for his hand.

The men climb out of the car and head right into the church. With every step forward it grows heavier. Johnny wants to run away. He wants to turn away. Simon and Kyle are right behind him. Simon’s hand lingered on his shoulder. His face is serious, but never cold.

"Finally satisfied?", Kyle asked in a mocking tone. "I hope so.", Simon exhaled quite annoyed. They wore the suits Johnny picked out and they stood in front of a mirror. Johnny nodded. "She's gonna love it.", he beams in happiness and even Simon couldn't suppress the smile growing at his lips.

They enter the church you loved so much. Everything seemed so pretty. Too pretty. The place is decorated in your favorite flowers. Your friends and family are all gathered together. A man walks up to the front and starts a speech.

"I just can't put all my feelings for her in a minute speech. How is this supposed to work?!", he panicked and Simon scoffs. "Just imaging what you really want her to hear. A few things you always wanted to say to her but never found the right time to.", he stated calm. Kyle and Johnny looked at him in disbelief. "That could actually work." - " That’s why I am yer best man..."

So, he stands up straight and starts his speech. Hands gripping tight on a little paper in his hands. Every word is heavy on his tongue, but he manages to push through and holds the tears back. "I never realized how lost I was in this world until I looked into your eyes. In those pretty eyes I found my home. And when I heard your voice for the first time, I heard my future. I committed myself completely and only to you, and I would do it again and again. Forever yours.", his voice goes quiet. Nobody of the guests would really understand his words, but you would. That is the only thing that matters. His heart is shattered into pieces as he places a ring down into the earth. A ring you was meant to wear. A ring he got long time ago because he was sure about it. Sure, about you.

"Yer lost mate.", Simon exhaled shocked while looking at the little box Johnny held out to him. "Why?" - "Ya know her for a month, went to yer first date like two ago and yer already got 'her a ring??" Johnny chuckled, his eyes lingering on the box. "I know she's the right one Lt. I just know." Simon only shook his head, but a soft smile was on his lips.

This was the moment all the people around him witnessed the second death of Johnny MacTavish. There was before you. A time Johnny can't remember at all. Because you changed it all for him. The time during your shared life was everything he ever wanted. Everything he never thought he could have. And somehow, he never thought there would be time after you but here you were. He always supposed he would leave way before you, but that wasn't the case. Here is he standing surrounded by people that love you, but nobody could understand what you meant to him. Nobody of them would understand the love he's holding for you. Nobody would understand that with your leaving you also took him with you.

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sisterspooky1013 · 1 year ago

Text

Gaslight, Chapter 21/48

Rated X | Read it here on AO3

King of Prussia, PA

He’s up early, already showered, dressed, and sitting in the kitchen with a steaming mug of coffee by 6:30 am. He’s trying to read the newspaper, but his mind just keeps spinning and spinning, circling around the few sparse facts available to him and attempting to assemble them into something that makes even a modicum of sense.

His mother did not seem to be obfuscating when she denied the possible existence of a twin. His next consideration is a clone, though that theory contains many gaps. For one, to the best of his knowledge human cloning is still many years away. And even if it were available now but obscured from the general public, a clone of himself would not be an adult working for the FBI, he’d be a child, maybe even an infant. And that’s sidestepping the fact that of all the humans to clone, he doubts that he’d be the first choice. His last supposition is the phenomenon of identical strangers, a rare but not impossible occurrence. But if said identical stranger, this Mulder, had gone to training at Quantico, surely the instructors would have noticed the resemblance. Surely they would have reached out to him to ask if he has a brother. It still just doesn’t quite add up.

He desperately wants to go down to DC. Perhaps if he walked around the Hoover building, someone would recognize him and put him in touch with his doppelganger. He could clear his appointments, make a day of it. He could put to rest this nagging feeling that there’s something missing, or someone.

He feels like he’s trapped in a mirrored maze, trying to find the way out but running up against his own reflection over and over. He knows that Diana wouldn’t understand. She’d think it was all a cover for something more nefarious, and he just can’t afford to take any risks regarding her trust right now. He won’t be given any more chances.

“Hey, early bird,” Diana says, still in her pajamas as she rounds the corner into the kitchen. Her hair is messy and her face unmade, and his heart swells with affection.

“Morning,” he replies, turning in his chair and opening his arms to receive her. She steps into the space between his thighs and drapes her arms around his shoulders.

“What are you doing?” she asks, and he detects an edge of suspicion in the question. He can’t so much as break from his daily routine without sending up red flags for her.

“I just couldn’t sleep,” he explains, pushing her hair behind her shoulders.

She hums and kisses his forehead before she moves to the coffee pot, her back to him as she assembles her very precise mix of sweet and low, coffee, and vanilla creamer.

“I have to head down to Washington for a day or two,” she says groggily, and he perks up.

“Oh yeah?” he asks, feigning minimal interest. “What for?”

“Work stuff. Pretrial. I won’t bore you with the details.” She turns around and leans against the counter, considering him. “Will you be okay without me until the weekend?”

He smiles at her and shrugs.

“I could go with you,” he suggests casually. “Maybe we can stay the weekend, do the tourist thing.”

Diana purses her lips and looks down at her cup.

“I don’t think so, Jeff. I’ll be gone all day and you’d just be bored,” she says.

“I can do my own thing while you’re working,” he counters. “I know you hate The Mall, so I can just check it out on Friday by my—”

“I said no,” she says firmly, and he’s taken aback by the severity in her voice.

“Okay,” he aquiesces, hurt and confused. “I’ll just stay here with Frenchie then.”

“Yes,” she says much more lightly, “you need to be here to take care of Frenchie. It’d be impossible to book a kennel on such short notice.”

He can think of half a dozen people who would be happy to take Frenchie for a couple days, but he knows that’s not really the point. She doesn’t want him there, and he can’t help but wonder why.

“When do you leave?” he asks, defeated.

“This afternoon,” she says with a sigh. “I’ll be staying at the Embassy Suites. I’ll forward you the information in case you need to reach me.”

He nods, his eyes on the counter. He stays there like that, lost in thought, as she goes back upstairs to get ready and pack. When she comes back down, she’s suited up and made up, her messy hair carefully combed back. He dutifully loads her luggage into her car, trying not to let his sour mood show. It will only lead to more questions, more suspicion. It’s beginning to feel like he’s walking on eggshells around her.

“Give me a call when you get home from work,” she says, standing just outside the open car door. “From the landline.”

He clenches his jaw but nods. He has no right to be upset with her for doubting that he’ll be where he’s supposed to be. Twice bitten, infinitely shy.

“And please take your blood pressure medication,” she adds, giving him a pointed look.

Again, he nods. He can’t quite bring himself to walk around the car and give her a kiss goodbye. He’s afraid that all the frustration and tension in his body will be transmitted to her through his lips, and she’ll take it as something other than what it is.

“Bye, love you,” he says, pushing his mouth into a smile.

“I love you, too,” she tells him, then she climbs into her car and is gone.

He moves through the day in a haze. He sees clients, gets lunch at a little deli around the corner from his office, enters his session notes into his computer. At home, he walks Frenchie, eats a bowl of cereal for dinner, and finally picks up the phone to call Diana around 7:00.

“This is Diana,” she says when she answers, though she should know by the caller ID that it’s him.

“Hello, Diana, this is Richard from MCI,” he says in a nasally pitch. “I’m calling to offer you unlimited calls to Timbuktu and Siberia for the very low cost of $99.99 per month.”

“Excuse me?” she says sharply. “Where did you get this number?”

“It’s me, Diana,” he says, the momentary levity he felt in his attempt to be playful evaporating. “Jeff.”

“Oh,” she says, irritated. “Are you at home?”

“Yes, I’m calling from the landline, as instructed,” he says petulantly.

“Did you take your medication?”

He didn’t, but he still finds her reminder infantilizing.

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” she says, her tone softening. “I miss you.”

Then why didn’t you let me come with you? He thinks.

“Me too,” he answers instead.

“Don’t stay up too late, okay?” she says, and he sighs, knowing that he won’t be able to sleep.

“I won’t.”

They say goodbye, and he sets the phone down on the counter, his foot bouncing nervously. With every passing moment of inaction, he feels the pressure building and building, and he worries what will happen when he finally explodes. Frenchie whines and he looks over at her. Her ears are pinned back, her tail wagging. She’s worried, too. He picks up the phone again.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Jeff.”

“Hey man, what’d your mom say? Do you have a twin brother?” Frank asks hopefully.

“No, doesn’t seem like it,” he answers. “Hey, I need a favor.”

“If you’re going to ask me to be your plus one to one of those therapist conferences again, save your breath,” Frank says, and he laughs.

“Never again,” he assures his friend. “I was actually wondering if you could take Frenchie for a couple days while Diana and I are out of town.”

“Sure, I always like having the French Fry around,” Frank says. “Where you headed?”

“Uh, not sure just yet,” he lies, deciding that the less Frank knows, the better. “It’s kind of last minute. Can I bring her by tomorrow morning, early?”

“Sure, but if it’s before 9:00, just put her in the back yard and don’t bother ringing the bell.”

“Wouldn’t want to disturb your beauty sleep. Thanks, Frank, I owe ya one.”

“I’ll add it to your tab,” Frank grumbles, and they say goodbye.

Diana will be mad, there is absolutely no question about it. He’ll have to pick up flowers and chocolates before he heads over to her hotel, spin it as a romantic surprise, and be ready to deal with the aftermath. All he needs is a few hours in town, just to see what he can find out. He just needs to know who Mulder is, just for his own peace of mind, and then he can put this all behind them. He just hopes that his marriage is still intact when they come out the other side.

Tagging @today-in-fic

#the x files #x files fanfic #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #xf fanfic #x files #the x-files #xfiles #thexfiles

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thegoldheartlocketandkey-blog · 9 months ago

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911 Spoilers Season 3: You’ve been warned. 😅 Buddie Rewatch

Episodes 16-18

Episode 16: The One that Got Away

The 118 is in a burning building. Buck and Eddie are trailing ahead, Bobby is behind them. They are checking every apartment for survivors. Buck finds a man passed out on the ground. The man is barely conscious, is asking about a Gladys.

They assume he is talking about a cat, Buck stays behind looking for the cat, he finds a cat that turns out to be Hoover. Gladys is a deaf woman who is still trapped inside.

Buck wants to do a rope rescue. Eddie isn’t surprised, but knows it is extremely dangerous.

Eddie and Buck are on top of the building next to the burning one. They jump onto the burning, where Eddie secures himself to the top of the building as Buck lowers himself down to Gladys’ window. Buck breaks thru the window and pulls Gladys out.

As they are descending, the roof starts to collapse and Eddie must secure the rope to the building and get off that roof. Buck must descend the rest of the way by himself. The rope catches on fire. The fire cuts thru the rope and Buck and Gladys fall on to the airbag, Buck and Glady’s are safe, a lot of bystanders were recording the rescue.

Buck is celebrating the rescue. He wants to go out to the bars and celebrate properly. Eddie is the first to decline, because Chris is hosting his first sleep over, but he extends an invitation to Buck if he wants to celebrate with a bunch of 9-year-olds.

Hen, Bobby, and Chimney all also decline Buck’s invitation. He decides to go celebrate alone.

Buck walks into the bar as the News is playing his rescue. Buck is proud momentarily, until the older patron he sat near, calls him an idiot. We meet Red, a retired Firefighter.

Buck and Red spend the night drinking. Buck is listening to all of Red’s old stories. With the number of cups and bottles on their table, they are obviously drunk.

Through out this episode we learn about how similar Buck and Red are as individuals. They both made firefighting their whole identity. Buck sees his possible future in Red and that scares him. Especially the part about being alone.

Buck walks Red to his apartment, where he sees photos of Red’s old firehouse and learns more about Red’s life. Red giving Buck the advice of not neglecting his own life.

Buck is talking to the 118 about Red and how his situation is bother him. Eddie and Buck are standing next to each other. Eddie trying to comfort Buck and agrees with him that they will not lose touch.

Buck tries to surprise Red with news that he found her lost love Cindy. Buck convinces Red to go see Cindy to rekindle what they once had. He drives Red to Cindy’s house and get him baseball tickets to go see a game.

It becomes obvious real soon that Cindy is suffering from dementia. Buck’s plan falls apart and Red feels like he can’t survive Buck’s medaling.

Buck talks to Maddie about the situation. We learn that Buck still occasionally thinks about Abby his lost love. Buck also talks about how Maddie doesn’t understand his situation, because she’ s the one that leaves and he is the one that is left behind.

Red is in the hospital; he calls Buck to help him be discharged. We learn that Red has cancer and is dying. Red tells Buck to stop trying to save him and Buck realizes the best thing he can do is sit down and listen to his story.

The 118 surprises Hen with a doctor’s coat after her very unconventional rescue. Eddie and Buck are at the front of the group cheering the loudest. Bobby slightly behind and Chim slightly towards the left. A bunch of extras are in the back.

Buck makes a comment about how they call him a show off. Eddie follows with a joke about field transplants. Chim states that that is why she needs the coat.

Buck and Eddie nearly pressed up near each other. Eddie offering to take a photo of the moment as Buck calls her Dr. Wilson and Chim helps her put on the coat.

Buck continuing to gas Hen up and Eddie taking multiple photos of Hen in a coat. As the team starts to disperse Eddie says he will send Hen the photos. Buck receives a call.

Buck meets Red at the hospital. Buck plans an elaborate discharge that shows Red he is appreciated by the department. The 118 at the end saluting Red and escorting him home in the fire truck.

We learn of Red’s passing and Buck is in tears while talking to Maddie. Maddie acknowledging that Buck was comparing himself to Red’s life and telling him that he will not be left behind.

Episode 17: Powerless

Hot air Ballon: Buck goes on to talk about how dangerous hot air ballons are. Eddie is visibly confused by the comment. Buck clarifies that dispatch gets a lot of calls in relation to hot air balloon incidents. Eddie asking if Maddie told him that and Buck responding with “no, someone else” Cuts to Bobby making a face because he knows that means Abby.

Eddie and Buck standing near each other as the discuss wind conditions and how to get the girl down.

Everyone running to pull the ballon down. Eddie and Bobby grabbing the rope and pulling down as, Buck jumps into the basket to bring her down.

Hen and Karen talking about going out to a restaurant and why Karen was not invited. Hen explains if she invited Karen, Chim would invite Maddie. Maddie would invite Buck and Buck would invite Eddie.

Tree cutter vehicle gets stolen; Buck and Eddie almost getting hit with a spark. They are of course standing near each other. Like I don’t know who often I have to say this, but Buck and Eddie are always standing near each other. Chim and Hen are never on top of each other as much as Buck and Eddie are.

Eddie and Buck pull the victim out. Turns out there is a power outage. Buck runs over to a car accident that happens nearby.

Athena gets attacked. I remember the first time watching this episode, I was so worried and panicked. I didn’t think she would die, but I definitely was at the edge of my seat. I think the most traumatizing aspect of this is everyone, especially Bobby hearing Athena being attached and that single gunshot.

Everyone listening to the attack, they are quiet and concerned to afraid to say anything. The 118 running into the building, even though it is not clear. Them having to call another RA unit to the scene because the 118 was not going to help Athena’s attacker.

Train derailment; Abby is the person to call in the emergency.

Episode 18: What’s Next?

Abby is on a moving train. She is walking to the bar for a drink. We learn about her travels and she acknowledges that Buck has stopped waiting for her.

Buck is overly concerned about Christopher going to summer camp for two weeks. Eddie confused by the over concern, stating he brought this up so they can make him feel better about the situation.

Buck is acting like an overly concerned father. It’s cute how close his relationship is with Chris that he is so deeply worried about his safety. I think it is especially funny because Buck is such a dare devil/ risk taker.

Buck laughing at Bobby’s experience with sleep away camp.

Eddie is grading Hen’s practice test for the MCAT. Eddie and Buck being incredibly supportive of Hen’s desire to go to med school.

The Train derails. The 118 shows up to the scene to help. Buck and Eddie are canvasing the scene.

Eddie approaches Abby and tells her that she cannot go back into the train. She tries to explain that she understands it is dangerous but she has to get into that cart. Buck walks passed and recognizes Abby.

As Abby recognizes that Eddie is from the 118, Buck calls out to her. Eddie looks at Abb, I don’t know how to describe his expression. It’s a mix of disappointment and something else. I really wish I knew how to describe the feeling.

Eddie slightly backing away as Buck fusses over Abby. He is trying to make sure she is alright. Abby is just trying to get him to listen, she is alright and she’s worried about finding her fiancé.

Buck looks heartbroken at the realization that Abby has a fiancé. Eddie cuts in asking for a description of her fiancé, but looking over to Buck to see his expression.

Eddie runs towards the direction of the cart, he is about to pat Buck on the shoulder, but hesitates and just runs off.

Buck starts to get his composure back. He asks Abby for her fiancés name, which is Sam. He tries to shake off. Abby thanks Buck and Buck tells her that it is not necessary, he’s just doing his job. He promises that they will find him and bring him back to her.

Eddie and Buck climbing up the train cart identifying dead bodies and victims.

Buck is the one to find Sam pinned against the cart. He tells Sam that his fiancé is safe on the ground. Eddie is looking at Buck concerned.

The cart shifts with Buck and Eddie inside. They are both tossed up. Bobby makes his way inside with a hydraulic ram. As they try to get Sam unpinned, we hear a woman scream. They pause to access the situation.

Eddie and Bobby accessing who they can save. Because of the circumstances, it’s very likely they can only save one. Buck looking distraught at the realization.

Sam realizing that it’s his life or the girls. Buck reassuring him that they are trying to work on a solution to save both. Sam telling buck about how his wedding is planned for June.

Buck hearing Bobby and Eddie decide to work on the girl since she has better odds. Buck being vocal about how they cannot just do that. Bobby confused by outburst. Eddie to reveal that Sam is Abby’s fiancé.

Eddie in this moment sounds a little jealous and bitter.

Buck is scaling the outside of the train, trying to cut out an exist as Eddie is inside with the victims. The cart shifts as Buck is outside. They are able to pull the girl out safely and turn their attention to Sam.

They are able to safely extract Sam out of the cart and reunite him with Abby. Sam learns that the Firefighter that was helping him is the Ex-boyfriend, Buck.

Eddie standing by Buck as Abby and Sam go into an ambulance. Eddie looking up at Buck and asking him if he’s okay.

Sometimes their height difference is very noticeable, this is one of those moments.

Buck ignores the questions and asks what is next.

Buck and Abby meet up. Sam is doing alright and she thanks him for that. Abby apologizes to Buck about how he heard the news of the engagement. Buck talks about how upset he was over here ghosting him. Him getting an explanation for the situation. Buck finally gets the closure he deserves.

May’s Highschool Graduation party: Buck and Eddie are standing near each other as they cheers to May’s success.

Eddie dancing with Christopher.

Buck and Chimney laughing uncontrollably. Buck and Maddie taking a silly photo together. Eddie and Chris taking a silly photo together.

Buck and Chris signing May’s poster together.

More clips of Eddie dancing with Chris and then Karen and Hen.

Buck and Chris take a cute silly photo.

Buck, Eddie, Chim, and Hen take a silly photo.

This cute Gif moment and my profile photo;

More Buck, Eddie, and Chris adorable photos.

Chistopher getting onto a bus for summer camp. Eddie standing outside of it, saying goodbye.

More Chris and Eddie dancing.

Buck apologizing to Bobby about what he said at the train derailment.

#buddie #911 abc #eddie diaz #evan buck buckely #buck x eddie #911 spoilers #911 show #christopher diaz #911 fandom #911 rewatch

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alexxncl · 1 year ago

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more random obey me hcs

masterlist more drabbles/hcs | pt 1

my mc is black

platonic or romantic, however you view them

mainly the brothers

nb and og based, some theories towards the end

luci loves receiving forehead kisses more than he likes giving them but will never admit it (esp if mc is shorter than him and has to pull him down to kiss his forehead)

if mc has a pet, mams will go out of his way to buy toys and treats and matching outfits for the baby

beel is the first you should go to if you're feeling homesick, he'll pull up a list of your favorite foods and go on a grocery run to cook them for you, especially if it means going to the human world for a few hours

despite having the bigger and more comfortable bed, asmo loves sleeping in mc's room whenever they're at the HOL bc it's an excuse to be close to them

dia never had anyone except barbatos wash his hair until mc came around, now wash day is one of his favorite times of the month

belphie buys the most comfortable and high quality bonnets he can find, and he keeps some of them in his room in case mc forgets to bring it when they sleep over

levi can do hair with his tail ??? (don't ask how) and can do it while reading or gaming, it freaks mc out

satan reads colleen hoover books just to laugh at how bad they are, and the first time mc saw one they almost beat him over the head with it until he explained

solomon's fabsnap name is an obvious star wars ripoff, but nobody knows that bc star wars doesn't exist in nb yet

i've probably said this before but mephisto has the fattest crush on lucifer and hates himself for it

the main reason the brothers annoy lucifer or cause trouble around the HOL is so that he'll put his work down and spend time with them. mc picked up on it really quickly and joins in sometimes, but tells them to knock it off if they're doing too much

thirteen kept a close eye on mc as soon as solomon took them on as his apprentice thinking she'd hate them, but she was interested in how different they were from him

mams is secretly a musical fanatic and is beyind excited when he finds out mc is a theater kid

the brothers were raphael's favorites, and that's why he reprimanded them so hard and got on luci's ass about everything [mc still hates him (mc is me)]

thirteen loves doing nails just as much as asmo and they argue all the time over who gets to do mc's nails

(they each get a hand and a foot and mc does their nails in return)

asmo taught all the brothers how to paint nails, and beel is the best at it, but they let asmo do it for nostalgia

satan will never admit it, but when asmo asked to paint his nails the first time, he felt like he truly belonged in the family

when she first came to RAD, thirteen subconsciously clung to solomon despite hating his guts bc he was the only sense of familiarity she had

he teased her endlessly, but being close to him meant she got close to mc and she gravitated towards them more as time went on

don't know how much this aligns with canon, but luke was born right after the celestial war and simeon took him under his wing moreso than michael bc he knew how badly michael was fucked up after losing luci and his brothers after the fall

THEORY TIME

barb didn't send mc back in time, michael did bc he's a bitch and is too scared to disobey god to check on the brothers on his own

(barb was the first one to notice their absence despite not living with them bc he felt a shift in the timeline, but he can't pinpoint their location or bring them back)

also probably said this before but simeon is from the future, idk how far in the future bc he's still an angel, but his pfp is literally one of the "miss 'em" things and that's from season 2 of the anime which was in between seasons 2 and 3 of the og game

I'M NOT CRAZY I SWEAR

*ahem* my bad y'all

we've barely heard any characters talk about god at all except for mainly the brothers' discussion of their lives in the celestial realm, is he asleep like dia's dad??? like where is he

#obey me nightbringer #obey me #obey me hcs #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beel #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me thirteen #obey me mephistopheles #obey me raphael #obey me theory #personal fave

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icallhimjoey · 2 years ago

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A Whisper Away

♥ ♥ Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: A continuation of Like A Poem and A Lot Like Love where we dip into your November for a couple consecutive years and see how you're getting on with the bookstore, Joe's career and... other changes.

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, angsty, I strongly advise you to read the previous bookstore fics before diving into this one!

Author’s note: an amazing request from @darthvontrapp inspired this "third season" in the bookstore, hope you enjoy!

Wordcount: 3.1K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

Exhausted. Far too tired to start another fight. Yet, here you were, crying and angry and Joe just didn't get it because he'd forgotten.

The day, the week - the month had left you a shell of a person. The breakroom was still a huge mess; there were toys strewn across the floor from where Alfie had been playing, and Anne had been too busy watching him to organize the mess that had been left on the table. And you hadn't even gotten to the state the actual store front was in. November was tough; with Christmas coming up, people would come in to look for specific books they would need convincing their loved ones would like. This was something you were good at, but your brain seemed to have stopped working optimally ever since you'd had a child months ago.

It had been a busy Saturday, and lots needed doing still for you to be able to open on time the following Sunday. For starters, you needed to hoover. With a curious child crawling around freely now, you’d really notice how dirty the place would get by the dark grey patches it’d leave on Alfie’s knees.

Looking around, you knew your evening was going to be filled with tasks down here in the store. You’d just bathed Alfie upstairs and had kissed him goodnight before Joe had disappeared into his room with him to put him to bed. Sometimes it could take ages, other times he’d do exactly as he was told; there really was no middle ground.

Joe’s dad had laughed at the two of you when you told him how it could sometimes take hours to put Alfie down, and then he had told Joe that he knew karma would find its way back to him for the years of sleepless nights Joe had apparently caused his parents. “It was just very unfair,” Joe explained to you. “I was the only person in the house who had to sleep in a bed by myself, everyone else got to share,” the only other people in the house at the time being Joe’s mum and dad. “So, I get it, little man,” Joe would coo at Alfie.

It’s why Alfie slept in your bed with the two of you so often – you didn’t always mind, Alfie was adorable, and he loved to snuggle, tiny arms would always find your neck to wrap themselves around. But sometimes, you did mind. You’d think of Alfie a couple of years older without the capability of sleeping on his own and you’d try your best to convince Joe to let Alfie get used to the routine of being put to bed and sleeping in his own bedroom.

It also really didn’t help that you’d totally underestimated the amount of sleep your body clearly needed to function properly, and for nearly a year, you’d maybe gotten it… twice? Every night, for months, you’d be disturbed in your sleep and be forced into action. It was things like Alfie crying, Alfie slapping you awake accidentally, Alfie climbing on top of you in his sleep in a bid to be closer to you, somehow never closer to Joe, it was always you that required midnight climbing upon. Or they were other things, like Joe waking you up, asking you where you’d left the bottle, which you would always leave in its spot, but Joe had just not registered it there even when he’d looked right at it, because Joe was tired too.

You loved Alfie, and you loved Joe. So much.

But you’d be so very envious of Joe when he got to go on trips for his job. Just, get out of the routine of it all for a few days. Sure, he’d be so busy, he’d barely have time to himself, but still, you could just feel envy eat away at you when he'd be packing an overnight bag. Again. You didn’t want to sound like a bad mother, so you’d never admit it to anyone, but you longed for a night away in a hotel, just so you could get 10 consecutive hours of pure blissful sleep.

When you turned off the hoover after getting most of the store front done, you could hear Joe’s footsteps coming down the stairs. You looked around and felt happy enough with the floors, but the displays were messy still, and the counter had so much random shit on it, you didn’t really know where to begin.

You heard the kettle go on in the breakroom, and shortly after, Joe appeared and saw you stood in the middle of the store, both hands pressed against your cheeks and your eyes found each other.

“There’s too much,” you said, clearly overwhelmed, trying to numb yourself enough to be able to deal with all of it.

“There’s three things,” Joe reassured, placing the baby monitor he’d been holding on the counter and coming in to hug you. “There’s you and me, there’s Alfie, and there’s the bookstore.” Joe tried his best to remind you of his priorities, making the huge mountain of work you couldn’t see around slightly translucent in the moment. “It’s just three things,” he tucked you under his chin and rested his head on top of yours.

Joe was wrong, though. It was more than three things; there were shelves, displays, the counter, the till that needed doing still, and then also the entirety of the breakroom, and you hadn’t even thought about what else laid in wait for you upstairs, in the apartment. But you appreciated Joe trying to make it easier for you, even if it didn’t really help. Your body ached as Joe squeezed you tighter before letting go when he heard the kettle boil, and it only reminded you more of how your body felt like it had aged 10 years over the past 12 months.

Joe jogged on over to the breakroom, to make tea no doubt, and you knew that what you needed to do, was get started on a task. You looked over at the counter and were interrupted by the baby monitor springing to life. It was just soft mumbling from Alfie’s tiny voice, nothing that needed checking on, but it reminded you only more of the responsibilities and the weight of them on your shoulders. When Joe walked back in with two steaming mugs of tea, he found you still stood in the same spot, but now on the verge of crying.

“Come on,” Joe nodded his head towards the armchairs in the window. “Let’s sit.”

You obliged, even if it was just because Joe took charge. He could’ve said “Do the till first,” and you would’ve just as easily done that, you thought. But letting yourself fall back into an armchair and accepting the hot mug of tea Joe held out for you felt much nicer than doing actual work, obviously. Joe sat down opposite you, took a careful sip of his tea, decided it was too hot to drink, and placed it down on the little side table before reaching for one of your legs.

“Did Alfie go down easily?” you asked, blowing into your mug, letting Joe take off your shoes one by one.

“Ssh, no baby talk,” Joe shushed you. You used the no-baby-talk-rule very sparingly, only when one of you would realise that all of your recent conversations had exclusively revolved around Alfie. Or, when you’d have friends over that didn’t have children – you never wanted to become the couple that could speak of nothing else but your child, even though there were always so many things to talk about, things to discuss, things to ask each other. But Joe called it now. No baby talk. You looked at him for a second over your mug. “He went down fine,” Joe quickly said, smiling, knowing it’d drive you crazy if he’d just let your question dangle in between you without an answer.

When your second shoe was off, you were about to pull your leg back to pull both up onto the chair, but Joe didn’t let you. Instead, he held onto your foot, sat back in his own chair comfortably and started kneading. You frowned and let your head fall to the side, relaxing. That felt nice.

“Don’t,” you started, but you made yourself laugh. “Don’t smell your hands after, my feet can’t smell great after today,” and without even the slightest of hesitations, Joe bent over in the chair slightly to press his nose onto your sock. “They’re fine,” he lied. You knew they weren’t, but Joe was sweet and Joe didn’t want to say the wrong thing and make you cry, and that in and of itself made your eyebrows pinch together.

“Ew, no, you’re right, they stink,” Joe tried to save the situation, but it was too late, because trying to make you laugh only made you love him more, and you sobbed through a smile. You felt delirious, laughing and crying at the same time, whilst Joe kept massaging your foot with firm fingers, eyebrows scrunched up as he looked at you a little worried.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” it almost made you feel like you were in therapy.

You shrugged through tears. You thought Joe knew what was wrong.

“Sometimes I don’t think I can do it,”

“So then don’t,”

You scoffed at Joe as you used the backs of your hands to dry your cheeks, quick to erase any sign of them in true mum-fashion. Obviously, Joe’s suggestion wasn’t an option.

“Don’t open the store tomorrow,” you knew Joe meant well, but it felt like a challenge, and you didn’t appreciate it. You thought Joe knew what you were thinking, so you refrained from answering.

“You know financially you don’t have to,”

Of course, you knew that. If this had been about the money, you’d never ever taken over the store in the first place. It was never about money. It was about the books, and about your family - your granddad. It was about the accomplishment and about the independence; all of it mattered, and it mattered to your customers too, and so you'd vowed that having Alfie wouldn’t change much. The fact that Joe was raking in deal after deal was nice, but your store was still your store, with or without Joe's financial support.

“And then where will it end? Shutting the whole place down eventually?” you put your mug down too forcefully.

Joe groaned at your doom-thinking, now letting your foot go and leaning over to grab the sides of your armchair, like he’d done so many times before, pulling it forward to close the distance between you.

“That’s quite the leap,” he said, reaching to cup your face and wiping his thumbs over tear marks you hadn’t yet wiped away yourself. “I promise you the world won’t end if you don’t open the store tomorrow,” Joe cooed with his head slightly tilted. It felt impossible to explain how every fibre of your being disagreed with Joe, even though logically you knew he was right, you didn’t feel he was right. You couldn't not open tomorrow. Joe didn't get it, and you thought he must have forgotten.

You looked around, suddenly feeling the rush of work in your body and feeling the ticking of time in your brain. Your hands itched to tidy a display. But Joe saw, and used his hands on your face to pull you in for a kiss.

You let him, but made sure to keep it quick pecks.

"You cured me, I think I can do it," you lied, patting Joe on the outside of his thighs and getting up. Joe reached for your arm to grab, and when you looked at him, at your Joey with his big brown pleading eyes, he made you frown. "I can do it," you repeated, only frustrating Joe more.

"You're going to work yourself into the ground one day,"

It was a comment you could've taken as a compliment. It meant you had great work ethic. A passion for your job. A strong character.

But Joe didn't mean it as a compliment. He meant it as a warning.

"I'm fine," you said, now busy straightening books, counting the stacks, rearranging as you went.

"All right, you're fine," Joe scoffed, obviously not buying it and now getting up himself, leaving the mugs of tea forgotten. "I'm not going to be walking in on you crying in the store every night, just for you to tell me that you're fine whilst completely ignoring me," Joe walked around the counter and started piling everything he knew shouldn't be on there. He was annoyed that you'd started working, and that you clearly wanted to open up shop tomorrow, but he'd still help you. Joe wasn't awful.

"I'm not ignoring you," you said, rushing over to take over whatever Joe was doing, afraid he'd do something wrong with the potential of you misplacing or losing something important. Joe only grew more irritated from it. "There just things to get done." You explained, realising Joe had done exactly what he needed to do to get you in gear to get the bookstore ready for another day.

But he wasn't happy about it.

"There's three things," Joe said, exhaling a quick breath loudly through his nostrils with eyes closed in annoyance.

"Bookstore's one of them," you were quick to argue, eyes going over every single item that you categorized into separate piles on the counter. Joe hated that your full attention wasn't with him.

"Exactly. Just one. A third of your time. A third."

Joe spoke so sternly, it made you stop what you were doing to look at him. You scanned his face for a hint of soft love, maybe a little left over worry from earlier, but you couldn't find any.

"Joe, I..." you let your eyes scan the room before they wandered up the shelves and around. The bookstore was your life. Joe had always understood. He'd made himself part of it. Why was it suddenly a problem? Why today?

Before either one of you could say anything, the baby monitor in front of you beeped, prompting both of you to look at it, and you heard the quiet cries from Alfie that slowly became louder.

"Another third," Joe said, barely moving to look at you, his eyes doing the most. You didn't know what to say, how to respond to that. Instead, you let your eyes dartle between the baby monitor and the work in your hands, not moving, but also not knowing what to do as Alfie's cries grew steadily in volume.

"No, that's okay, I'll go," Joe said it in the most passive aggressive manner you'd ever heard him speak to you as he stepped backwards, away from the counter as he looked at you. Then he brought a finger to his chest, poked it twice and said, "A third." before turning and leaving to go check on your 10 month old son.

Joe'd left you speechless. And angry. And sad. You already were so tired, and now he's just insinuated that you weren't making enough time for Alfie and for him? For Joe? The guy who went off to film on location for weeks? Who'd travel to three countries in a week for, and you weren't exaggerating, parties? And now you were the bad guy because you had had a long hard day at work and still had things to do to be ready for opening up the store tomorrow? The math wasn't mathing, and you blinked away angry tears, hating that you felt guilty over staying down in the bookstore to do your job.

You sniffed loudly, watery eyes obstructing your vision that you wiped away angrily, annoyed grunts leaving you when you heard Joe walk into Alfie's room on the monitor.

"Shhh, it's okay, Alfie," Joe's voice sounded crackly through the tiny speakers. It was followed by footsteps, soft rustling, Alfie's cries dying out, and then soft shushing from Joe. You knew Joe had picked Alfie up and was now swaying him in his arms, pressed tightly against his body. "Come on, little man," Joe then whispered, followed by soft kissing sounds, and you heard footsteps leaving Alfie's bedroom.

You knew Joe was taking Alfie over to your bed, which meant a couple of things. One, your crying picked up, which you didn't like. Two, Joe wouldn't be coming back down to help out, which would mean it was going to take you longer. Not ideal after the whole "three things" schpiel Joe just gave you. And three, you'd have Alfie in the bed with you which almost guaranteed you wouldn't get the good night of sleep that you yearned for so badly.

You knew then that Joe'd forgotten.

Joe would've never talked to you the way he had tonight if he hadn't forgotten.

It was just before midnight when you threw the last few toys into a basket in the corner of the breakroom. You sighed loudly and checked the time. The breakroom was tidy and clean, and you walked into the front to give that a last look over too. The armchair that Joe had pulled forward was the one thing still out of place, and when you used your knees to push it back into its original spot, you checked the time again, and saw it was just three more minutes.

So, you sat down in your granddad's old armchair, and you waited. For some reason, you needed to be down in the store for it.

You let your eyes drift up the shelves and saw the one book you'd never sell, still in its spot, right where it belonged. You'd already cried so much tonight, for several reasons and several feelings, but grief hadn't been one of them yet, so these tears felt different. You pulled up your knees in a bid to comfort yourself, which worked a little, and snuggled up into the plush chair. With hot tears in your eyes, you tried to relax as you watched the clock pass midnight.

It was now officially five years ago that your grandfather had passed away.

You let your mind overtake itself with memories, closing your eyes with trembling lips to visualise him as clearly as you could, trying to remember the sound of his voice, his laughter, his proud eyes and the wisdom he'd speak. You could really use some of his wise words right now.

With your heart full of ache and nostalgia, you knew that Joe was right. But just for now, it didn't matter that he was. Just for now, you allowed the bookstore to be all three of your thirds. Just for now, it was just you and your granddad down in the store, and you envisioned him telling you to keep the store closed the next day, and you silently promised him through tears that you would.

You let sleep eventually overtake you, and dozed off in the armchair where you, and you didn't mean for this to happen at all, accidentally got the best night's sleep you'd had in weeks.

-----

The Taglisted: @ghostinthebackofyourhead @kiwisa @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @alana4610 @emmamooney @xomunson @sadbitchfangirl @jssmth5 @nobody-000 @thatonefan-girl @paola-carter @eddiemunsonfuxks @figmentofquinn @haylaansmi @thewondernanazombie @hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere @munsonmunster @kellysimagines @dirtyeddietini @mybffjoe @harrys-tittie @chaoticgood-munson @harringtonfan4 @sherrylyn628 @bdpst-massacre @xeddiesbattattsx @05secondsofsexgods @lovelyblueness @adoreyouusugar @nadixq @prozacandnicotine @munsonswhore86 @alwayslindie @thefemininemystiquee - add yourself

#A Whisper Away #part 2 #joe quinn #joseph quinn #joe quinn x reader #joseph quinn x reader #joe quinn fanfic #joseph quinn fanfic #angst #fluff #fanfiction

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oohnotvery · 9 months ago

Text

Throwing Good After Bad (Chapter 22)

Mulder

Mulder expects a few things upon their return to D.C.: a procedural ass-kicking served up by OPR; a few official reprimands added to his file; and a suspension, maybe even—God forbid—termination.

He anticipates much of it correctly, and after a heated verbal spar with Skinner and Kersh, he and Scully accept their punishment—four weeks without pay. Leave your gun and badge with security. Don’t come near the Hoover for at least a month. Ignore the rubbernecking from your colleagues as you exit the building in a wash of anger and embarrassment. Forget the fact that Kersh didn’t receive a lick of punishment himself.

“At least,” Mulder says to Scully as they part ways in the parking garage, “they’ve got Evan on attempted murder.”

Scully’s lips purse thoughtfully. “I wonder if the court will take into consideration the fact that he saved your life.”

Mulder shrugs. “Reduction in sentence?”

They nod in agreement. There’s an awkward pause as they stand on opposite sides of Scully’s car, staring at each other.

See you in a month doesn’t seem right, not after what they’ve been through. But neither does please come back to my place so I can fuck the hell out of you.

By some unspoken agreement, they part in a strange middle ground—a friendly wave, a sympathetic smile, a promise to call.

None of it surprises him too much, not at first. He expected their punishment, even predicted Kersh’s absolution of guilt. What he didn’t expect was what followed.

They’re a week into their suspension and he hasn’t seen Scully since they parted in the garage. A few days ago, she told him over the phone that she would be seeing her mother soon. Maybe she decided to stay for a few days?

It’s with an uncharacteristic sense of self-preservation that he refrains from calling too frequently. You’re not supposed to look too eager, right? That’s one of the rules of dating? Are they dating? Fuck if he knows.

Apart from his burns, bullet wound, concussion, and severe dehydration, things had been pretty perfect in the hospital. To the consternation of the hospital staff, Scully had slept in his bed with him every night. They had been inseparable, as they should be. He mostly assumed that once they got home and Scully gave him clean bill of health, they would jump right in, taking this starved thing raging between them and giving it life.

Hell, he thinks as he bounces a basketball aimlessly up and down his living room, everyone at the Hoover building who thinks they’re sleeping together would be in for a fun surprise.

On day seven, he caves and calls her twice, and when she doesn’t answer either her cell or her landline, he starts to fidget.

“What the hell, Scully?” he considers yelling into her answering machine, but claps his mouth shut at the last second.

On day eight, he gives up and calls Maggie Scully. And blessing of all blessings, the woman reassures him that her daughter is staying with her.

“Oh,” Mulder says quietly, suddenly feeling awkward. “. . . . can I talk to her?” He feels like a teenage boy trying to get on the phone with the girl he wants to take to prom.

Maggie hesitates and he feels his stomach clench.

“Mrs. Scully?” he prompts nervously.

She sighs gently. “Fox, why don’t you just come over?”

He blinks. “Okay,” he agrees. “But can you tell me—is everything alright?” If he’s going to do this, he wants to know what he’s walking into.

“I think you’d better just come over,” she repeats evasively.

After a quick shower and an ill-conceived attempt to put some food into his jittery stomach, he’s on the road. Some time later, he stands on Maggie’s front porch, heart clattering in his ribcage. She opens the door with an overly sympathetic smile, and that’s when he knows something is truly wrong.

“What’s going on?” he asks, his eyes scanning the living room and kitchen for signs of his partner.

“She’s upstairs,” Maggie says gently, placing a hand on his forearm. “You can go see her,” she says off his questioning look. “But Fox . . . .”

“What is it?”

Maggie licks her lips uneasily, and it’s like staring at Scully’s double. “She’s not doing well.”

A shadow blooms in his chest and he nods tightly. He takes the stairs two at a time, dipping his head into each room. He’s generally unfamiliar with the layout of the Scully house but eventually finds his partner in one of the back rooms. She’s lying in bed, a remote in one hand, her eyes impassively glued to the T.V., which appears to be playing some kind of soap opera.

“Scully?” he says quietly, tapping his knuckles on the door.

She startles, her eyes growing wide as she takes him in. Her mouth opens in surprise and she scrambles up the bed, a red flush blooming on her cheeks. With profiler’s eyes, Mulder observes her quickly—rumpled, unkempt hair; face devoid of makeup; pajamas still on in the middle of the day; curtains shut tight against the windows.

“I wasn’t expecting you. I would’ve dressed,” she stutters out.

He moves to the bed and takes a seat beside her, twisting to meet her eyes. Her normally bright blue irises have clouded over, and although he can tell she’s trying really hard to excuse her appearance, he sees right through her.

“Scully,” he says gently, lifting a palm to her face. With his thumb, he circles the apple of her cheek before leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead. Her skin feels hot on his lips. When he pulls back, there is a glisten of tears in her eyes. “Hey, hey, what’s going on?”

She presses her lips together and shakes her head. It takes her a moment to regain the composure that she values so highly, and he waits patiently as she breathes through her emotions.

Finally, she swallows, then speaks. “I keep going back to that day,” she whispers. Her eyes flick between his own. “I spent a whole day thinking you were dead.” Her lower lip trembles. “Thinking you had died in this terrible, violent, horrifying way.”

She presses a palm to her chest and sucks in a breath, her shoulders shuddering as she releases it. He leans into her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and drawing her in. He can feel the rapid beat of her heart against his.

“I can hardly breathe with the memory of it,” she confesses softly.

His stomach drops as he considers that she has been silently suffering with this pain for over a week now. She turns her head so her cheek rests against his shoulder. After a moment, she speaks.

“What was it like for you?” she murmurs. “Those final moments, before you knew you were being rescued?”

His eyebrows crease and he pulls back, shaking his head gently. “No, Scully,” he says. “No, I’m not going to relive that with you.”

She grips his hand tightly and her eyes penetrate him, demanding information in a way he’s never seen before. “Please,” she begs. “I need to know.”

He studies her for a long moment, then sighs, dropping his gaze. “Scully, no,” he says with finality. He stares down at her hand for a long time, stroking her knuckles as he considers what she needs. When he’s ready, he glances back up at her. “We’ve spent years being chased by death. We’ve both come pretty damn close a dozen or so times.” He pauses, the words caught in his throat. “But for the first time in my life, I thought I was really, truly, finally at the end.” Scully bites her lip hard. “But I got to keep living, Scully. I got to keep living and I get to keep doing life with you. So I won’t focus on death, or what was almost taken from us. I’m going to focus on what’s living, what’s right in front of me.”

A single tear trickles down her cheek and he waits, wondering if she will accept this or fight him on it. She rubs her thumb into the skin of his hand in endless circles and he resists the urge to subdue her nervous energy. Finally, she leans forward, tipping her head to his chest.

“I keep thinking that if I knew how it was for you in those final moments, I’d have some sort of resolution,” she says.

“I don’t think that’s going to help you.”

She beats her fist into his chest, but it’s without any real strength. “I just keep reliving that moment of Lydia dragging me away from you.”

He pets her hair soothingly. He has received some training in trauma processing and for years, he has known that eventually, one of their near-death experiences would catch up to them. But re-experiencing this event isn’t doing her any good.

“Scully, look at me,” he insists, tipping her chin up. “I’m here. Right in front of you. I didn’t die and I—I believe I wasn’t meant to. Whether it’s due to your God or the Fates or simply the result of very good luck, I’m alive.” He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “But you know what I really believe?”

She tilts her head to the side in question.

“I believe that it was you, Scully. I think you saved me. I think you always have.”

She shakes her head critically, her nose crinkling at his nonsense. “I believed you died, Mulder. It wasn’t like during my coma when I—when I had the strength of your belief that I would live.”

He smiles at the memory. “That’s not what I’m saying. What I’m saying is . . . we’re meant to be together. Whatever that looks like,” he quickly clarifies. “And deep down, I don’t think your soul wanted to accept that it had lost mine here on earth.”

She stares at him hard for a long minute, and then, miracle of miracles, rolls her eyes. “Mulder, that is such crap.”

He barks out a laugh, relieved to see some of his Scully returning. He winks. “Just making sure you still have your wits about you.”

She bites her lip, shaking her head with a slight smile. “You’re right about one thing,” she concedes, and the air around them grows serious again. “We’re meant to be together.”

He clasps the back of her head and pulls her into a hug.

Mulder shuts off the soaps on T.V. and after a time, Scully falls asleep beside him. When she’s dozing peacefully, he retreats downstairs to make a coffee.

Mrs. Scully looks nervous as he wanders into the kitchen. “How is she?” she immediately asks.

He smiles to himself, nodding. “She’s going to be fine.”

Mrs. Scully’s shoulders collapse with relief. “She’s only told me bits and pieces, Fox. How bad—how bad was it this time?”

He cringes a little, avoiding her gaze. “Ah, it was not—not one of our better days,” he replies cautiously.

When he looks back up, Mrs. Scully is staring at him with a mix of regret and relief. They sit at the table and share a pot of coffee, both avoiding the topic of Scully and their investigation. He’s about to rise and take a cup of coffee up to Scully when he hears the patter of bare feet on the kitchen tile. He turns.

Scully tips her hand in a quick wave. He’s relieved to see that she has showered and changed into jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt, which makes her look instantly more like herself. Her mother rises to kiss her on the cheek and then excuses herself from the table. Scully helps herself to a cup of coffee and then tilts her head towards the living room in invitation. He follows her there, settling in beside her on the couch. She sips at her drink for a few quiet moments, and he can’t help but notice the way color seems to be returning to her face.

“It’s nice to see you,” he finally says, hoping he sounds more casual than he’s feeling.

She hides her smile with the dip of her chin. “I think . . . I think it was wrong of me to isolate myself,” she admits.

He stretches and shrugs. He won’t pretend he wasn’t wounded by her long absence, nor will he act like she hasn’t hurt herself by staying away. But now that the concern and fear he felt on the drive here have faded, he feels the return of that familiar tension between them. But this time, it’s strung more tightly than it’s ever been before.

“When are you coming back to D.C.?” he finally asks.

He half-expects her to hem and haw around the issue, to tell him she needs more time. He grits his teeth in preparation. But her eyes flit to his and he sees a slight dance to them, a little mischief there.

She smiles knowingly. “I was thinking tonight, actually.”

His eyebrows rise. “Oh?” He tries his damnedest to sound casual, but he hears the ache and longing in his voice.

She sets her cup on the coffee table and scoots up until their knees are touching. “I don’t think,” she says evenly, “that it’s good for either of us to be alone right now.”

He huffs a little laugh. “I could have told you that a week ago.”

She rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “So, Mulder.” She fixes him with a meaningful look. “Want to keep me company tonight?”

His eyes don’t leave hers. “Your place or mine?”

She grins, and although neither of them is anywhere close to healed, he can see the light returning to her eyes.

“Mine.”

#msr #msr fanfic #x files #mulder x scully #txf #dana scully #the x files #x files fanfic #fox mulder #xfiles fanfic

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power-rings · 1 year ago

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Till Death

AN: So, I just finished Reminders of Him by Colleen Hoover and it inspired me to write this story. Just a heads up... if you don't like Shadamy don't read. I'm not usually writing about these two so this is different than my usual content. They're a guilty pleasure of mine. ;) Listen while you read!

Chapter 1: This life Without You

(Amy's POV)

Every now in then I will sit in our bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about our beautiful children we made together. How they are living life without you, just as I am. I would have never imagine you'd go first. You died doing what you loved, though. Died as a hero. I have to remind myself that constantly. I guess I should have expected it. You have came to so many close calls before. But, seeing our oldest daughter trying to process the meaning of death. She's eight-years-old now, and she's slowly understanding it. It's heart shattering. We decided to have you cremated, we spread some of your ashes and ever since then all I could see is our daughter's teary eyes watch them as they fall. We had a stuffed toy made for our younger son with your ashes inside. I kept a ring with your ashes inside the stone. It's been 2 years since your passing. Most of everyone we know has mostly moved on, excluding Tails. I haven't actually slept in our bed since your passing. If I'm in our bedroom, I just usually hug your pillow and try to savor your smell. I tried so hard to wash it out. It still smelled like you, and that's why I can't sleep in here. After about 10:30 I get up and start my day with a cup of coffee. The house is eerily silent, our children went with your parents, and Uncle Tails to the beach. They deserved it with school starting in a couple of weeks. I'm trying my hardest to get back into routine now that the kids are going to away from home more.

Cream and her mom still runs their cafe in town, and they're gonna have me work there. I need to get out of the house, anyway. Cream will be starting her own career soon. She surprised me as she grew up very interested in fashion, and over the years with her mom's help, she landed an opportunity to purchase a spot to design and sell her clothing. I never felt so proud. Since she'll be away finalizing some paperwork with her mother, so I'll be working with some other employees instead. I stand before the closet and sighed. It's been 2 years. You've got this, Amy. I pick out a white top, with the uniform provided for the employees. It's just a simple blue apron with the emblem of the company's name "Vanilla's Cafe". I positioned my name tag near the front pocket.

I left the porch light on in case I have a later shift. I lock the front door, fix my purse strap on my shoulders, and hold my coffee tumbler close to me as I make my way towards the cafe. The cafe is located almost at the end of street, it's an adorable little building. Suits Vanilla perfectly. I hesitate at the door, before Cream rushes towards me, and embraces me tightly. I embrace her just as tightly. "I'm so glad you showed up, Amy!" Her gaze was apologetic. "We shouldn't be too long," she squeezed my hands. Understanding that I haven't been in the work environment since Sonic passed away. "Alex, and Clarice will be there to help. Ciara should be in soon too." I didn't say much, just nodded and gave Vanilla and Cream one last hug before they hurried over to a nearby taxi. Immediately, the smells of cupcakes, cookies, and coffee is overwhelming to my senses as I step inside. Alex is the first one to greet me, and help me find a spot in the back to put my belongings. Clarice greeted me once she finalized the customer's order. They're both wonderful company. They ask which task I prefer to do. Cream must have told them I have been out of work for awhile. I ask to keep up with inventory, restock items, and clean. After about a slow hour or two, the customers started pouring in as I was cleaning off a table. We got a phone call from Cream that everything went well finalizing the paperwork, and payment. However, they discovered some electrical issues, and wasn't sure how long that would take. We were all doing well, by ourselves, but I know Cream and her mother felt awful about abandoning them at the cafe. After the phone conversation, we continued on handling orders, I was able to take care of some costumers at the register, while another employee took a restroom break and Ciara handled a big to-go order.

It's been about 6 hours that I've been at the cafe, I was told by Ciara to go to my break. I actually felt hungry for a change. I finished sweeping under the booth nearby, then she took over willingly. We each had 30 minutes, unless we were running slower than normal. Ciara encouraged that I take a longer break if needed. I grabbed my purse, and stepped outside. Looking down at the various shops nearby. A diner caught my eye. It was one of Sonic's favorites. I hadn't been in years. I don't think I can handle going in there. I stop in front of the door. Hesitating, to go inside. It's torture. I see a sign with hot dogs topped with every topping that I could think of. The sight of it made me sick to my stomach. I shook my head, and I pushed myself to open pull the door towards me and walk indoors. Nothing had changed about the diner. Same smells, same workers, the only difference was some of the decor. I picked a booth near the entrance. I sighed in relief. It's a step forward. A familiar waitress came up with a big smile, "Good evening! Just one menu?" She kind of looked confused, I guess she remembered Sonic and I coming here often. I felt a lump in my throat.

"Yes please. Can I have a water?" I asked, before she handed me the menu, and some utensils rolled up in napkins. She nodded, and went towards the bar while I looked over the menu. The first item I noticed was of course the well-known chili dogs that Sonic loved so much. I didn't eat them very much, but I loved making them for him at home and his excitement when he came home to a good handful of chili dogs. When the waitress came back, I asked for a chili dog, with no jalapeño or onions, and a side of steak fries. The waitress actually looked shocked; I'm sure she remembers I would mainly order a salad here. She went back to the bar, and gave the cooks my ticket. I sat back and waited. Feeling antsy, I got up and fiddled with the boombox to find something. Sonic always liked rock. I picked a random playlist, and played it on shuffle. It played Fortunate Son by Creedence Clearwater Revival. As it played my feet tapped along with the beat, while I opened my bag and retrieved my phone to see if there were any missing calls, or text messages. I only saw a few from Tails letting me know how there kids were. I opened one text message that had an image attached to it. Before the picture, Tails had texted:

Mach got stung by a jellyfish. He's ok! He handled it like a pro. It looked really nasty so we took him to ER. got him some painkillers to relieve the swelling.

I scrolled down, and noticed he sent me another about two hours ago,

You doing ok? How's work?

Of course he was worried about my wellbeing. Always did. I went to type a message back.

It's going well, I'm on break now! I respond with a heart emoji. I notice the bar on the bottom of the message box spin, until it shows delivered. I put my phone aside when I hear the waitress come to my table 10 minutes later with my food. I thanked her and stare down at my order. I munch on the fries, not daring to take a bite of the chili dog just yet. Memories of Sonic sitting with me, at this diner come flashing back to me. I could picture Sonic enjoying his meal, messy as ever, napkins and napkins piled on his side of the table. I was always so disgusted by it, but I missed seeing that messiness. Back at home, I was use to random clutter (he called it his hobby), but after his death, I had to hide all of that clutter of his. I felt like I was cleaning after him constantly, but that's what he got for marrying a neat freak. Although, he would do his best to keep the house tidy when I had a bad day, or was under the weather. I was so grateful for that. Since his death, the house hasn't been as tidy as I typically preferred. It didn't feel the same anymore. I shook my head, and turned my focus back on my food. I probably need to get back to work soon, anyway. I glance at the time on my phone. I have exactly 25 minutes before my break is over. I know I shouldn't worry, but I didn't want them having to pick up for my slack. I finally managed to eat my chili dog. It was okay. I didn't understand Sonic's fascination with it, but it was edible. The waitress' timing was the worst, as she approached the table after I dabbed a napkin at the corner of my mouth wiping off any chili remains. "Do you need anything else?" She asked, "we have several dessert options if you like?" I shook my head no, "It's so nice seeing you-" she paused, "it's Amy... right?" I forced a smile and a nod. "Where's your fella? I hadn't seen him in ages!" She exclaimed, as she took my empty basket of food, and refilled my glass of water. "I remember all the times he'd-" I interrupted her my eyes met hers. Her lips formed a straight line, as if she shouldn't have said anything in the first place.

"He died." I hate saying those two harsh words. I probably sounded so cold towards her; when I didn't mean to. I felt my hands shake, and my eyes sting. No. We agreed to not cry today. "It was all over the news, was it not?" More words formed, dry, and cold. I looked down. I couldn't look at her. I shook as I reached for my phone, and put it in my purse.

She swallowed, "I'm sorry... I -" she backed away, when I stood to my feet. I didn't realize I was even standing. I felt sweat pouring down my forehead, she went to put a hand on my shoulder, but I made a beeline to the bathroom. I vomited my lunch, and then when I composed myself. I started to sob over the bathroom sink. Grief is funny like that. It hits like waves... one minute you're fine, you're listening to his music, enjoying his memories, and then... you lose it all. There was a knock at the door, it was the waitress. The thought of her asking more stupid questions made me want to throw up again. I leaned against the bathroom wall.

I can't do this thing called... life.

Not without him.

But... I have a family to think about. Our children. I had to push through for them. I had to remain strong. I swallowed, my throat felt like it was on fire, I took a deep breath, and fiddled for my phone in my bag. My hands still shook as I struggled through my contacts. I stared at the name "A-hole" a pained smile spread across my face, Sonic must have gotten my phone and renamed Shadow's name to A-hole. He never did ask why his number was in my contacts. Shadow and I kind of formed a friendship, if you can call it that. He was honestly very comforting to me after Sonic passed away. Despite his demeaner.. I knew deep down he cared. My finger hovered over his name, hesitating. I could just call Vanilla, couldn't I? Or someone from the cafe, even. Even Rouge... something tugged at me to call him though. If he didn't answer. Fine. Rouge was next on my list. I meant to send him a text, but my hands still shook so bad so I just called him. Each time it rung, I felt tears start to stream my face again. I shouldn't talk to him. I don't think I can even talk. It rung several times more, and then there was a pause. "S-Shadow?" I managed to get out, in a shaky tone.

"...Rose?" He always called me that. I didn't mind, of course. I grew accustomed to it after so many year; I stopped correcting him. I breathed out in relief, and cried.

"Can you come get me?" I slowly make out these words.

"Where are you?"

"Diner... in town. " I couldn't even remember the name of this damn diner. I couldn't even recall the name of the street it was on. There was silence on his end, so I responded with a "please." Shadow didn't answer back, the phone call was dropped. My heart sunk. I'm not sure if he would actually come, or knew which diner I even meant. I slapped my forehead, and brought my knees to my chest. Normally the thought of being on the floor of a restroom disgusted me, but I didn't care. There was another knock, I believe it was the owner. He was concerned. "Ma'am? Are you alright?" I wanted to answer with no, but I remained silent. I blocked out their voices by covering my head with my hands, and continued to cry. I was feeling so many things right now that I couldn't keep track what they were. The phone ringing scared me to pieces. I jumped and saw Shadow's number show up. I blinked back the tears. He told me he had arrived. "I'm in the restroom..." I heard a commotion going on, and his voice to confirm he was at the right location. I pushed myself up, and wiped away more tears. I tried to wash my face, but my face still looked pale, and my eyes were bloodshot. I forced myself to open the door, outside stood the owner, and the waitress that served my table. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Shadow walking towards my direction. He looked me over, his expression unreadable. I looked away, avoiding his gaze. "Can you take me home?" He didn't say anything, shrugged and angled his head toward the door. He lingered long enough for me to pass him out the door. The waitress gave Shadow a ticket, but said the bill was taken care of. Not that paying for my meal was a concern at the moment.

I was shocked that Shadow didn't ride his motorcycle. Sonic never did understand why he got one. He was "almost as fast as him" Sonic would clarify. Shadow walked alongside me the entire way to the end of the street. "Did you just leave work...?" He finally spoke. Oh, shit. I forgot. I paused when we reached a crosswalk. The light was still red, so we had to wait. I asked him to text Cream on my phone. He blinked in confusion, but seconds later he did as I requested. This was the longest walk to my house. He didn't ask any questions, but he kept glancing my way. I just kept glancing at the sky, after we left town. The sun was setting, and I always loved watching it. Sonic would always watch it with me outside on our porch. I gave a sigh. We reached the front door of my quiet home, I fiddled with my keys, and opened the door. I was disappointed that no one welcomed me. I dropped my belongings on the bar and hugged myself. Shadow just stood at the doorframe when I slowly made my way deeper in the kitchen. I took off my apron, and grabbed a bottle of water. I hovered over the sink feeling my eyes sting even more. Shadow slowly inched deeper in the house, closing the door behind him. "Are you okay?" I saw him kind of wince like he shouldn't have said that.

I took a sip of my water. "I... I will be." I say this as if I'm trying to convince myself more than Shadow. I wiped at my eyes, I slowly glanced over with a weak and forced smile. "You don't have to stay, Shadow.." I leaned against the counter. "Thank you." There was a silent acknowledgement from him. I didn't see him make his way to the living room.

"Where's the spawns?" I jumped back into reality, when he spoke after minutes of silence.

"You mean... children?" I raise a brow.

"Yes."

I needed to sit down, so slowly made my way into the living room with him, and laid down on the pillow that rested on our sectional couch. "They're on vacation with their grandparents, and Uncle Tails."

Shadow glanced over, looking me over again. "But, you stayed home to work?" I couldn't tell what he was getting at. So, I just looked at him. He shrugged.

"Rouge says you're the one who works too much." He stayed silent before he scoffed. Before long, nothing was spoken between us again. "Shadow." His ear twitched in attention, "please speak... this house is way too quiet nowadays.." I sunk deeper into the couch. Closing my eyes, trying not to cry again.

"You didn't tell me what happened at work." I felt him sit at the end of the couch.

"I... it didn't happen at work. Work was fine!" I dramatically responded, "I ate at that stupid diner... " I swallowed my words, "his favorite diner." His red gaze locked with mine for a moment. "Ate his favorite food. Damnit. I should be over him after two years. Shouldn't I?" I didn't really want him to answer that, or think he would. I finally sat up, and hugged a pillow close to my chest.

"You never do." He could see the confusion on my face, so he elaborates. Shadow glanced away, "you never get over their death." I probably look dumbfounded to him. "Do you think I don't miss Maria still?" It felt weird hearing him speak of her. He rarely did anymore. He had moved on, and continued to follow her wish and lived his own life. He face furrowed. "I never knew you could cuss."

This earned a smallest grin from me, "does that bother you?"

"Hell no."

"I didn't think so." I gave a sigh. "I just assumed I would feel better by now. I usually pick myself up pretty quickly." I glanced at the clock, and then back at Shadow. "I loved him so much. It's like a piece of me is gone..." I wipe at my eyes again. Here we go with the water works. "I hate this house now. It makes me think of him. Sometimes... I.." she swallowed, "when I see our children I break down." I grab a handful of tissues, "I hate how clean it is in here! I hate... life without him, Shadow. I really do." I finally stood up, and walked in the kitchen, trying to compose myself. But, feeling his gaze on me doesn't help. I silently sob at the kitchen sink.

My ears prick when I hear his footsteps. He's leaving me. He's gonna walk out and leave me alone in this quiet house, with just the sounds of my sobs. I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn around. I feel more tears sting, not in grief but relief that Shadow did not leave. I want to hug him. "I shouldn't be saying all this... you didn't even like him." I stubbornly respond, with a uncertain smile. "Heck, you probably hated him. You're... probably glad he's dead." I don't even know why those words escaped my lips. It even shocked Shadow. I immediately want to apologize. He's been so supportive this evening... and I'm being a bitch about it.

"...He was annoying, but I'm not glad he's dead." His eyes darted from me, to the floor. "Sonic gave me more chances than I deserved, Amy. Hell, I even tried to destroy -" Shadow pauses, I can tell he is so mad at himself for that mistake. "he didn't deserve to die the way he did." Shadow hesitated about going on. "You didn't deserve to watch him die, neither." Shadow paused again, unsure of what to say next. He always struggled with expressing his feelings. Just like the blue blur. Before I could control myself, I buried my face into his chest. No tears escaped, this time. I just wrapped my arms around him. A single tear fell down my cheek.

"You didn't deserve to watch Maria die, either." Maybe I shouldn't have said that. I know he doesn't like to think of that day. I don't understand all what happened. Maybe he didn't hear it. I sorta hoped. "I'm sorry." My voice shook, and I went to pull away but stopped when I felt his hand on my back. Like he was sort of accepting this embrace; if you can even call it that.

"Thank you." Shadow hadn't heard anyone say those words to him. They always blamed him, or his creator. It was nice to hear someone actually was concerned about all that he witnessed that terrible day, and how that would affect him. We both distanced ourselves. I hid my blush from his gaze. "You look exhausted." The heat in my cheeks went away. Ha, no kidding. "I should let you get some rest." My disappointment must have been noticeable, but his eyebrow raised slightly.

"Don't leave. Please." I must sound really bipolar. An hour ago, I was hoping he'd leave so I can cry myself to sleep. But now, I can't imagine being alone. Shadow looked awkward now. "Just for tonight... I can't be alone.. right now." My ears went flat.

"Okay." Was all the dark hedgehog said. It was enough to ease my concern. I gave him a thankful look, and then encouraged him to sleep in the spare bedroom. If he even sleeps. Sonic always said he didn't sleep. After getting my pajama's on, and my teeth brushed I come in the living room. I gave him the remote, "If you wanna watch tv... that's fine." I collected my sheets, and comforter and settled on the sectional. I wasn't sure if Shadow stayed in the living room, or hid in the bedroom. I did hear the television moments later, and then I was out like a light.

The next morning, I woke in my bed. I sat up quickly. Went to the bathroom, and washed my face trying to make sure I was actually awake. I went downstairs to find someone on my sectional. It was Shadow. He rolled to face me, and sat up. "You didn't look comfortable... so I took you upstairs." My mouth formed an O shape.

"I hadn't been able to sleep upstairs.." I muttered. Shadow didn't say another word. Like, he knew how it felt. "I... what time is it?" I couldn't recall whether I was gonna need to go to work or not.

"Just before noon."

"I'm surprised you stayed this late." He could hear the sound of gratefulness in my voice. "Uh... you want coffee? Because I need it."

"I fell asleep." Shadow shifted slightly, "Sure.."

"I didn't know you even slept." I laughed slightly, as I started gathering a coffee pod for us and pressed my preferred brewing setting.

"Sonic said that didn't he?"

"Yep."

"I don't require sleep like everyone else. I can go a whole week or more without it."

"How did Sonic know you didn't sleep?" I pestered the black hedgehog. "You two have a slumber party that I didn't know about?"

Shadow looked at me, disgusted. "No. We were on a lookout for Eggman. He noticed I hadn't slept."

"Code for slumber party." I whisper. Shadow gave me a stern look.

"I like this side of you, better."

I blinked. "What?"

"Your sarcasm." He raised a brow, and stood to his feet. Making his way over to the kitchen. I noticed he looked slightly shorter. He had removed his shoes. I handed him a cup of coffee. "Who says that was sarcasm? You two could have had a slumber party, and you just not admit-"

"Hush." Shadow surprised me when he covered my mouth with his hand. "I take it back. I like the cursing side of you." There was a small grin that I saw forming on his face.

"Fine. Asshole." I pushed his hand away, and muttered the insult under my breath.

I encouraged him to sit with me at the small table as we finished our coffee. It was odd having his company here. Of all my friends, I had chosen to call him last night. However, I realized his company was exactly what I needed.

#sonamy #shadamy #sonic the hedgehog #amy rose #shadow the hedgehog #miles tails prower #sth #my writing #myfanfiction #i might change the title idk 🤷‍♀️#sonic fanfiction

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