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berrypass-de-murdler · 3 months ago

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100. Murder at the Murdle Premiere

The final episode.

please I implore you, provide feedback of what you thought of the series, and if you're looking forward to the second installment - I strongly want to improve or potentially end depending on general response this series <3

DON'T READ THE EPISODES UNTIL YOU'VE FINISHED THE FIRST BOOK!!

Logico can’t sleep. He tosses and turns in his lonely apartment bed in the dead of night. The movie Murdle is tomorrow… and as much as he wishes he could just leave Hollywood and pretend the film never happened, he can’t. He has to be there, to solve an inevitable murder… and because Midnight III is forcing him to. He is jumpscared by a call from an unknown number. He answers it with his heart beating out of his chest.

???: I know who framed Irratino!

The voice is too quiet to identify.

LOGICO: Who are you!

Of course, the caller immediately hangs up. Logico rubs his eye and falls back down, miserable, praying this will all be over soon.

The next night, after the poor chap had essentially been sleeping all day, Logico wearily heads outside to a surprise. Inspector Irratino is in a full suit, in front of a sparkling limousine.

LOGICO: Irratino… what the hell? IRRATINO: I know you hate to drive. Come on - guest of honor first.

Flustered but touched, the little man climbs in. Irratino gives him a miniature tux to match, so he’ll look even more like a penguin. Logico is afraid of what will happen at this showing. But he snuggles into Irratino in the backseat as they’re taken to the most extravagant cinema in the world.

Everything in the theater is sparkling velvet and gold - it’s so luxurious it’s an eyesore. The crowd they’re met with is insane, it seems like every suspect from every case has come to watch the film. And the screen on the stage is the largest anyone has ever seen. In fact, the very last thing that comes to Logico’s attention is the body.

PRESIDENT: The Vice President. A complete waste of My time, but regardless, a person. MIDNIGHT: Look Logico. A murder. Deal with it before the movie starts.

Obsidian stands close by, looking suspicious as ever. Irratino is staring intensely. Logico finds a paper in the dead man’s pocket with a phone number. And he looks up at the four people who are in front of him.

Logico knows he’s been set up. That this entire adventure that has worn him down to nothing was meticulously planned by someone. Midnight III forced him into this job. The President is bound by his father’s will to keep the studio intact. Obsidian has been playing him since the beginning and will do anything for her own success. And Irratino knows too much. The goat approaches him. Logico, unable to bring himself to speak, holds out his hand to stop him.

To make matters worse, everyone in the audience is staring. Logico looks at them all and can barely see straight.

PRESIDENT: Hey. [kneels down to him] How do We know You’d even be able to solve something like this? LOGICO: Just start the film.

He gives up and leaves. He is so tired of solving murders. He never wants to do this again.

PRESIDENT: There We go.

Irratino tenses, and shoves the president out of the way, heading after Logico.

LOGICO: [sobbing] I can’t do this… I never wanted to be here… I want to go home.

A shadow looms over him.

LOGICO: …Irratino… I… know you’re there. IRRATINO: G- LOGICO: Don’t say anything.

He doesn’t. He just shows him two notes - one in Detective Code, and one in the code that he taught him on the cruise. Remembering the symbols, Logico is able to read both, and looks up at the goat lord, who gives him a soft smile.

LOGICO: [quietly] I could have never done this without you.

Hug <3

And they go back to the stage.

LOGICO: It was Midnight III - he’s behind everything.

Everyone kind of looks in confusion. What evidence does he have to back that up? But staring dead at the cloud of smoke, Logico knows he’ll break. He’s just too cocky not to.

MIDNIGHT: Fine. I did it. I killed the vice president, but I only did it because he got it my way. PRESIDENT: Son. Stop talking. Wait until Blackstone gets here. BLACKSTONE: I am here!! I heard the whole thing- MIDNIGHT: Shut up, Dad.

Midnight’s voice is starting to get really gravelly and scathing, unlike how he sounded before..

MIDNIGHT: I don’t care about your lawyers. I’m sick of you altogether. You inherited a company built on oil, and you tried to make it half about movies. Your pathetic attempt to make art got in the way of what we needed to make, and what I needed to make.

He continues to explain his evil plan, as every weak villain does. But it’s a lot of dialogue, and I’m too lazy to write the entire thing word-for-word. And if you’ve read the book, like you should have, you already know what he says!

MIDNIGHT: I hope you’re both murdered soon. And I want this fucking show to end. Can’t you see you’ve all been played. Can’t you see that… that your stupid story was planned. I was doomed to fail from the beginning. CAN’T YOU SEE WE’RE ALL DESTINED TO-

Obsidian steps in and forces the little blob off the stage. And the President too - he’s useless. Midnight continues ranting, but no one can hear him anymore. Logico and Irratino stare at the vast audience of previous offenders. There’s a long silence. And then, suddenly, everyone bursts into a roaring applause. They’re cheering for Logico! The real Logico… not just some character he plays. Obsidian smiles and raises a glass to him. He tears up and looks at Irratino, who grabs him into a tight hug. For the first time, Logico feels so relieved. He doesn’t want this moment to end.

IRRATINO: Logico... remember when you brought that penguin from the dead and we had a drunk party? LOGICO: Yes, Irratino, how could I ever forget. IRRATINO: ...Could we do that again?

And they do. For once, Logico doesn't care if he and Irratino look like idiots, because this is worth celebrating.

The movie sucked, but who cares? It’s just a movie, and Logico got enough money for a slightly bigger apartment. He leads Irratino to it.

LOGICO: All right, open your eyes.

He does, and gasps when he sees a new desk labeled ‘I. IRRATINO’. The hapless goat squeals and squeezes Gico, ready to move in as soon as he can. This is not what Logico meant. But he’s not going to say no.

On the backside of the door, there’s a note he certainly didn’t write, and neither did Irratino. It’s made of only numbers. And Logico can’t figure out what it means…

IRRATINO: Hey Logico. LOGICO: …what. IRRATINO: You know when there were ancient ruins on the moon? LOGICO: WHAT? You weren’t there for that! IRRATINO: Ah, but was I? The ruins may be oil deposits, but that doesn’t explain anything about the one on the moon - how’d ancient people even get up there without some kind of alien presence? LOGICO: Oh come on, are we doing this now? This is just stupid…

Irratino shuts the door behind them, slowly zooming out on the apartment, the building, and the city.

IRRATINO: Alright, if it’s so stupid, how do you explain it? LOGICO: Pfft. It’s not ALIENS. IRRATINO: Then what is it?? LOGICO: No more questions. IRRATINO: Logico…

And they continue to banter on, deep into the night.

The end (for real this time)!

Thank you to anyone who bothered to read this - I love you all.

May the power of Goat Lord compel you

#murdle #cartoonmurdleverse

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thislovintime · 2 years ago

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(Photo 1) Kay Betts, 1960s; (photo 2) Peter Tork reading the book of poetry Kay had given him on August 17, 1967, as photographed by Kay’s brother, Tom; (photo 3) another fan photo of Peter in 1967.

“[M]y friend Charla loved Davy and I loved Peter, so competitveness clouded our purpose in the summer of 1967 — to meet the Monkees during their second concert tour. We devised numerous plans to locate their hotel and break security. […] August 17, 1967 — a date that is incised on our memories, even if the exact sequence of events is not. Somehow, our small army of parents got out all to the The Place — a ‘60s motel in the best tradition, with parking underneath the actual rooms, which were reached by open stairways and surrounded by balconies that overlooked the parking lot. Not exactly aesthetic, but — fortunately for us — not exactly secure, either. When the limo arrived at about 1 a.m., we had the opportunity to actually see THEM, talk to THEM, touch THEM (although we were too well-bred for that!). Charla still remembers Davy quickly climbing the stairs, until her desperate incantation (‘Davy, Davy, Davy…’) caused him to turn and look at her. I don’t remember a bit of it. I only know that somehow Peter turned to look at me (probably due to the desperation in my voice), and when I gave him a handmade book of poetry I’d written, asked me what it was, was pleased it was for him, and smiled. And bless my brother’s heart, he immortalized the moment with his Polaroid Swinger. What of Mike and [Micky]? They made it up the stairs somehow. In addition to the book, I’d pained a portrait of [Micky], which we excitedly held up to show him while he stood on the balcony. Always the zany guy, he kept cocking his head to one side until we realized we were holding the painting upside-down. We were mortified. […] I never discarded their records. I can’t imagine why I kept them with me, or why I kept a box containing Monkee memorabilia in my parent’s attic, a box containing, among other things, the complete outfits (including shoes and hats) that I’d worn to the concerts and a lock of hair sealed in a pink envelope labeled ‘Hair When I Met Peter.’ […] Then last February, when MTV aired their Monkees special ‘Pleasant Valley Sunday,’ I accidentally tuned in for a couple of episodes. Then I started watching it with my kids each night before bed. I was mildly curious about Peter (the guest VJ) and singularly gratified that he’d aged so well and spoke intelligently. […] [Seeing them in concert again during the 20th anniversary tour] Charla looked glazed, close to tears, and I — armed with my son’s Fisher-Price binoculars — never took my eyes off Peter. […] Since July 1, I’ve had a lot of fun watching reruns and singing full-blast to those tapes I made. And looking through that box of memorabilia, I’ve been gratified to discover that Charla and I and our other (unnamed) best friend were smart, creative and funny, as well as innocent. But mainly I’ve felt amazed again and again that in 1967 (at the apex of Monkee mania) Peter Tork took the time to treat my little book with sensitivity and respect. […] The only reality after the last 20 years and after the next 20 will be what we each remember and still find valid — a fan sobbing as [Micky] passes, Charla’s ambiguous memories of Davy, my tender best wishes for Peter. These are the things about the Monkees that can’t be analyzed, or criticized, or forgotten.” - Kay Betts, LA Weekly, September 11, 1986

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glitterpeachtree · 1 year ago

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You were Dani's little sister. You liked spending time with Dani and Six. However, you didn't like how Dani and Six treated you. They would sometimes treat you as if you were glass. A story in which Dani and Six live together, and you, have Schizoaffective Disorder.

Why am I like this? Part one

......

I was in bed, laying on my side, blanket up to my ear. It was a bad day. A day where there were so many voices, it was hard to concentrate on my own thoughts. Court was keeping an eye on you from the doorframe as Dani was making a phone call right outside the room. She was on the phone with my psychiatrist. All of the sudden I saw a figure in the mirror.

"Court? Court? I'm scared. I'm scared. What's that? He's watching us." I sat up and started breathing heavily. Dani looked at me with concern from the hall. Then Court walked to my bed, and took my wrist and opposite elbow and gently pushed me down.

"Nothing's there. It's safe." He reassured me. I took his hand.

"Don't go." I sobbed.

"I'm not going anywhere. Just try to relax. Close your eyes if you need to." He said calmly.

......

After Dani was finished with the phone call she went over to Court. She quietly told Court that the psychiatrist said to take you to the ER, if the psychotic episode didn't die down. Court looked back at Dani with worry, and then back at me. I had missed this entire conversation due to auditory hallucinations, and muttering to myself about things that weren't actually there.

.....

An hour later I was less agitated. I could think (mostly) clearly again.

"I don't want to take meds anymore." I blurted out. I was sitting on the sofa. Dani was reading a book, and Court was looking at the security feed.

"You mean you don't want to take these meds anymore, right? Dr. Foster probably needs to adjust your dose or-"

"No. I think they're making me worse" I interrupted.

"Can you just give these a chance? Please? A few more weeks? You can't just stop taking them." She persuaded.

"I don't know. Why am I like this? Why is that other people can just function normally, but I can't even spend a day alone because you guys think I'm going to gouge my eyes out or slit my wrists." I said angrily. I had Dani's full attention, and Court stopped looking at the monitors. I darted my eyes between Dani and Court, expecting them to give me an answer that would explain everything. Instead, they stared back at me. Dani finally answered:

"You don't mean that, right? Slitting your wrists? Look, you have an illness. I know you hate it, but everyone struggles with something. We just need to get you on the right meds, okay?"

Later that night I didn't take my meds. I pretended to, but I didn't want them.

.....

The next day, I had a seizure. Apparently suddenly stopping your antipsychotic meds will do that to you.

Dani's POV:

(Y/N) was sitting at the table playing with her eggs. It seemed like she was never hungry anymore. I would have to mention that to Dr. Foster. Courtland spent the mornings eating an apple as he walked around the perimeter of the house, he had a little bit of a routine. A couple minutes later, he walked back in the house and threw his apple core in the trash.

"Is that all you're gonna eat?" I asked (Y/N). She seemed a little off this morning. Perhaps it was because of her little outburst last night. I grabbed the plate from her and turned around to toss her uneaten eggs in the trash. All of the sudden I heard a hard thud. Her head had hit the floor. I dropped the plate, and rushed over to her. Her body was convulsing, and her breathing was coming in short gasps.

"Courtland! Come quick! What do we do?! I yelled.

Court had some medical training due to his "career". He came running down the hall and kneeled down next to (Y/N).

"She's having a seizure." He muttered to himself. He took his jacket off and placed it under (Y/N's) head. And turned her onto her side.

"Call an ambulance. I don't like the way she's breathing." He said pretty calmly. He took her pulse and placed his other hand on the side of her face, to keep her head from coming off of his jacket. As I called an ambulance her convulsions became slower and her breathing was starting to become more even. She still sounded out of breath.

"Hey, can you hear me?" Court asked. She made a short humming noise in response.

"You just had a seizure. Just try to relax." He said. He took his hand and brushed her hair out of her face.

"Has she had one before?" Court asked me.

"What, no." The doorbell rang, it must be the paramedics.

.....

TBC

#fanfic #fanfiction #ryan gosling #ryan gosling imagine #sierra six #the gray man #ao3 #courtland gentry #sierra six x reader #sierra six x y/n

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weird-and-unwell · 3 months ago

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Needing advice. Long post. But I'm kinda desperate. TW psychosis and self harm:

Background info: I've had a fair amount of experiences in the last few years that basically everyone thinks is psychosis. Prominent examples:

The devil is out to get me, he's possessing my neighbours, doctors and loved ones with the intent of killing me. Also Jesus and angels are talking to me and they basically say I'm the next Jesus and need to kill myself. Cue self harm to try placate them. It was all very confusing and distressing and I had to drop a fair amount of hours from work as a result.

A mix of more religious stuff wherein I was an angel, but also I had magic powers and the government were hunting me down to try experiment on me and shit. Also doctors were trying to kill me? It was again very intense and bad. Spent a lot of time wandering the streets at night escaping monsters and the government and looking for angels. Would have lost my job if not for luckily getting physically ill and needing a few weeks off.

Slightly less bad one in which I was having my life broadcast on live television and also being poisoned. Very distressing again. I stopped eating for a while because of it. Miraculously kept working through this one. I think I was trying to "act normal" so "they" wouldn't realise I knew what was going on. I did not do a good job but hey, kept my job.

You get the gist.

Anyways I've started noticing the beginnings of it. Prior to the really bad ones I've had:

Sudden feeling of impending doom lasting a few days to a week.

Difficulty just...doing things. I have episodes of getting super excited and doing all the things!!! But then although I'm, say, repainting and rearranging all my furniture, I'm also not showering or brushing my hair or generally looking after myself. I get flare ups of my eating issues (not like weight based, I just return to only eating potatoes and bread)

"Signs". Cloud formations show me messages from God. Spots on my keyboard mean something and I don't know what. Messages from celebrities who seemingly take on god-like aspects. Just normal things happen that I interpret in increasingly weird ways.

Increasing speech problems. Sometimes it takes the form of talking fast, stumbling over words, repeating words or phrases...other times the wrong words come out or I find it hard to talk or I say things that make sense to me but not others.

Minor hallucinations. Usually visual and whispers. Full auditory ones less common but never fun. It triggered my OCD once after I started seeing bugs everywhere.

Increasing paranoia. I think people are talking about me behind my back, that people are going to hurt me...it often gets more and more specific as I get closer to full delusional but the vagueness remains.

Then everything gets worse and worse until it becomes a full episode. Everything gets fuzzy at that point so I can't pinpoint the tipping point.

Problem is that doctors are being wildly unhelpful. Various issues:

They don't see me when "like this" because I cease having insight and get paranoid so refuse to see them.

When I ask to see them more often so they can see it, they sigh and say it's not possible and I'll be fine.

When I explain it, they think I mean anxiety. I do not. I know anxiety. Anxiety can be so freaking bad but this is me being stuck in a whole different reality to everyone else where I struggle to work and look after myself and get increasingly terrified by what is, to me, objectively going on.

Doctors that do see it seem to think I'm being silly or overreacting or something? Eg I called up the crisis team in a panic over Jesus telling me to kill myself. Got told I'd feel better if I watched a movie. Meanwhile I'm there sobbing about how I'm going to die one way or the other because either Jesus makes me kill myself or the devil makes someone else kill me.

The very helpful doctor (sarcasm) who told me she "didn't think (I'd) completely lost it) when I explained I couldn't look after myself, was being followed around by paid actors and was hearing voices.

As a result I am not medicated or recieving any sort of help, unless you count fortnightly CBT that is aimed at my "medical anxiety" aka ptsd. My family is trying very hard to help me but ultimately I need more support for my own safety and wellbeing.

So the advice needed part:

I'm going to have another episode. About two months ago I got my impending doom feeling again. I'm seeing things. I'm not looking after myself. I'm paranoid and seeing signs everywhere. Impulsively bought a bible? My speech is apparently not always making sense to others. I know by now this is me being a ticking time bomb. I don't know when it'll fully tip over but it will and everyone around me knows it.

How do I make this less bad of an episode?? Is there a way to get help when doctors don't believe you?? I don't know what to do anymore and I'm scared of getting hurt, or of hurting others.

#actually psychotic #psychosis #actually psychosis

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imthebadguyyy · 3 years ago

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Loved your first fic of Lewis!💛

Can you make one where Lewis Hamilton and Y/N have a fight and have been living separately and then Lewis comes to meet Y/N one evening and makes an excuse that his toothbrush is with Y/N? And then Lewis confronts Y/N that he knows Y/N still love him but won't admit?

* I know this is a very specific prompt. Bare with me. I just wanted more Angst/ Fluff with Longing for each other and Deep feelings and keep it Non-explicit. *

A/N - I'm so glad you liked the fic 😊

We're Meant To Be

Pairing - Lewis Hamilton x Reader (female)

Fandom - F1

Summary - After a messy fight, you don't know where your relationship stands. But when love is that strong, an argument can't stand in the way.

Warnings - Angst, fighting, swearing

Angered shouts. Tears of frustration. White noise. Desperate pleads. And then silence. That's what your neighbours would describe if they were asked to describe what they had heard from your house. An argument that seemed to have started over nothing, had blown up into a full scale fight. When had it become this bad? Only yesterday, you two had had a date night at home, with movies and wine. Everything was perfect. But then, suddenly everything seemed to go down a downward spiral.

Your relationship with your boyfriend had always been calm, it had been the type of love where you just loved each other with all your hearts, where fights were an incredibly rare appearance. You were both working, and he was away at races most of the time, so usually, you didn't waste time fighting, something that was an unnecessary waste of time in your opinion. But then, something had just switched for a second. It was after the race in Baku, and it hadn't gone well. Lewis had been heartbroken, after coming P15, and had heavily berated himself for it. To make him feel better, you had taken a couple of days off work. to just be with him and give him company to feel better.

It had been on the third day of you spending time with him that he had made an offhand comment that had struck a nerve with you. "I wish you could be there at race weekends more often. It's like you don't care enough about the races" The comment had pissed you off, to put it lightly. "What do you mean, I don't care about the races? I watch all of them Lewis, I'm always supporting you" you had practically seethed at him. "Don't get all huffy, darling, all I'm saying is that the other girlfriends and wives come quite often, but you only come to like three races a year" he had said, already regretting his words. "Maybe that's because I have a job?! I work for my living, and I love my job. I don't have time to fly around the world to accompany you to your races, and its damn hard to get leave off of work anyway, I was lucky to even get a week off of work, and you want me to be there every weekend? It's not possible for a working person, Lewis" you had said, anger bubbling in your voice, pulling away from him to sit up straight. "I know, I just meant-" "No, I know what you meant. I'm sorry I can't always be there, and don't you think I feel bad when I can't be there for you ?" "I know you do, I shouldn't have brought this up. But can you come for the next race?" He had asked, not looking at your eyes, regretting the answer. "I... can't. I have a really big meeting coming up and-" "And you can't come I get it"

And he had just left. You had felt your heart shatter, hating yourself for being so harsh with him. But it was true, you were a very hardworking person, and you had worked damn hard to get to where you were, successful at your job, one of the best in your field. It took years of hard work and perseverance and you were proud of it. But a part of you also knew that Lewis didn't deserve any of the crap you had given him, and you also knew that he was right, the other guys had their partners to support them during various race weekends, and you only showed up to one or two of them. He was well in his rights to tell you that. And you hated how it had ended.

You all alone, in your house, in a cold and empty bed, in a quiet house with silence that was much, much more deafening than words ever could be. It was heartbreaking, to see a future you had dreamed of just shattering in front of your eyes, dreams of having a family of your own with him fluttering away like wisps of smoke, the burning flames leaving only a heartbroken mess of a human being behind. Was that what it felt like? To be burned and left to turn to ashes, when a person that knew exactly how to ignite your flame just left you to burn away? To have someone who could ignite your all consuming passion, and turn you to putty in his hands, who could mould you back into shape, leave you to melt into a liquid through his fingers to just lay on the ground, a sad, broken, person.

And here you were, lying on your bed, the sheets that had warmed the both of you on cold nights, or been home to your pleasure laced activities now offering only some of the warmth it used to, cold and unforgiving, as you turned your pillow for the fifteenth time, neither side cool anymore. Even the pillow didn't want to forgive you, the sweat settling in on your neck again, beads of sweat running down your forehead again. The pulled curtains shielded you from the over bright sunshine, your damp hair sticking to your shoulders and neck. Your eyes, red rimmed and tired, shut to protect them from the faint light in the room, the tiredness not permitting you to even open them to look in the dim light of your room.

Somewhere near you, your phone buzzed again, for what felt like the hundredth time in three days. It had been three days, three long, painful days since you and Lewis had fought and not seen each other, and those 72 hours had ripped a part of your soul out. You had spent those three days in bed, your leave days still saving you from getting out of bed and dragging your body to office. Was your relationship over? Were you never going to meet the love of your life, the man you were destined to be with again? Sighing, you rolled over, pushing the damp strands of hair away from your face. Using strength you didn't know you had, you pulled yourself up, feeling your head spin.

Slowly, you made yourself walk into the kitchen, grabbing a piece of bread and popping it into the toaster. Then you splashed some water on your tired face, shuffling over to the bathroom to brush your teeth. After finishing your toast, you peeled off the sweaty shirt you had pulled on when he had left, realising with a pang that it was Lewis's nightshirt you were wearing, a purple one he loved. Dropping it into the laundry basket, you turned on the shower, stepping under the warm shower. The warm spray untangled the knots in your matted hair, as you soaped your body and hair, fresh tears rolling down your cheeks as memories of your showers together with Lewis came flooding back, as heartbroken sobs wracked your form again.

An hour after the not so great shower, you found yourself in another shirt belonging to Lewis, the bed in fresh sheets and covers, your pillow finally cool on both sides. You were clean and refreshed, albeit heartbroken, waiting on your takeout Chinese food and ice cream. Just as you lay there, scrolling through your Netflix account to watch some episode of FRIENDS to help you keep your spirits up, the doorbell rang. The thought of flavourful Chinese food and ice cream was enough to lure you out of your bed again, bare feet padding across the wooden floor to go to the door. You grabbed your wallet, opening the door, to find not your dinner, but Lewis, at the door, in one of your favourite sweatshirts on him. Did the clothes make you feel better? No. In fact, it just shattered your heart further.

"What are you doing here?" was the predictable line that left your lips. "I um, I left my toothbrush at your place. Can I have it back?"

"I beg your pardon? You left your toothbrush? You came back for a toothbrush, but not for me? Is that all I mean to you?!" you said, anger and a hint of sadness creeping into your tone. "You do mean a lot to me" he replied in a sigh. "Look, I didn't actually leave my toothbrush. That was a lie, and wow, I'm just realising how stupid that sounded, I'm sorry" His words were met with silence. The sadness in your eyes said it all. You were upset. Of course you were. "I don't have any toothbrushes except mine, so please leave" Before you could shut the door in his face, he pushed it back open, stepping into the house on his own.

"No do not come in here, please just get out!"

"No" was his frustrating reply. "What do you mean no? I said get out of my house!" "Not until we stop fighting and talk about what the hell happened!" Lewis yelled back, matching your tone. "Why the hell do you care?!" "Because I still love you damn it, I always have, and this stupid fight cannot, and should not break us apart!"

Your burst into tears. Sliding down against the wall, you buried your face in your hands, the sweatshirt arms covering your face as you sobbed. In an instant, Lewis was walking across to you, strong muscled arms wrapping around your shaking frame. "I'm sorry" you managed to blubber out, "I thought it over, and I don't go to support as often as I feel I should, and I'm sorry"

"No my darling, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said all that to you. You work so hard baby, and I'm so proud of you. And I know that you try to come whenever you can, and I love you so much for that. I'm sorry, and I never shouldv'e asked you to prioritize my passion over yours" rubbing your shoulders softly, he let his chin rest on top of yours. Sniffling, you let your head rest on his shoulder. The soft hiccups that left your lips broke his heart even further, something he hadn't thought possible.

The last 3 days had been pure hell for him. He had missed you, God, he had missed you. He had missed having you in his bed in the morning, tracing patterns on your bare skin. He had missed leaving kisses on your soft cheeks and hands and on your cute nose, missed smiling against your skin as you giggled. He had missed you playing with Roscoe, the doggo following the both of you around the house. Even Roscoe had missed you, sniffing around the house for your familiar smell, cocking his ears up and looking at his dad questioningly.

He had missed your perfume, the scent filling his senses, intoxicating him in the best way possible. He missed you curling up to him, playing with his hair or tracing his tattoos, leaving little kisses around the compass tattoo, tracing his 'Still I Rise' tattoo, missing the goosebumps that would rise on his skin when you traced Michelangelo's Pieta on his skin, and kissed the family and faith tattoos on his sternum. He missed you everywhere, and it had taken three days for him to realize that your presence grounded him. Your presence was something he needed, not to survive, he had done that before, he needed you for his happiness.

And having you in his arms, crying over what he had said? It shattered his heart. And he wanted to just fix everything, to bring everything back to normal. Stroking your hair softly, he kept his lips pressed to your ear, whispering soft "I love you's" and "I'm so sorry baby's" and "I'm here for you's" into your ear, feeling his heart lighten ever so softly when your sniffles decreased and your grip on yourself relaxed.

Moving up to meet his eyes, you moved so you were at eye level with him. "So we're both idiots who are sorry?" You murmured, running your hand up to his collarbone. With a soft laugh, he nodded taking your hand into his, rubbing his thumb over yours. "Fighting sucks" he mumbled pushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "It really does" your replied, moving so you were straddling his waist. "Let's never do that again, and let's just make a schedule. We can figure out when you can come and visit me, and I'll just deal with the fact that my ethereal girlfriend won't grace the race tracks every race weekend-" "It all sounds lovely but all I want right now is your lips on mine" you interrupted, bringing a smirk to his lips.

Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to yours, hand moving to maneuver your head closer to his, your hands moving up to cup his cheek, as your traced his jawline, his thumb running over your waist. Breaking apart softly, he let his forehead rest on yours. "I love you" he whispered softly. "I love you too" you mumbled back. Before he could lean back in, the doorbell rang again.

"Damn it. That's my chinese food and ice cream" you sighed, smiling when he laughed. "Was it that bad?" He asked, letting you get up to open the door. "Like you wouldn't believe it"

After getting the food and paying for it, you set two plates on the table and put enough on your plates. "You know what the worst part was about fighting?" "What was?" "Not waking up to you tracing my tattoos" "Aww that's what you missed?" You giggled, walking up to kiss the tattoos on his hands. "I really did. You're cute and adorable and you're all mine. That's why I don't wanna fight. Let's keep it that way" "I love you so much" "I love you too"

***

A/N - I'm so, so sorry I took so long to write this, I really suck at angst, and I hope this is what you wanted, the last thing I want to do is give you subpar work 😭😭

Anyways, have a great day 💙

#lewis hamilton #f1 #formula 1 #sir lewis hamilton #sir lewis #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton imagines #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton blurb #f1 x reader #f1 imagines #f1 drivers x reader #f1 drivers imagines

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zoyaofthegardvn · 2 years ago

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little known fact, i am a huge the walking dead fan. it's the first tv show i ever got into (i was 9 when it premiered!) and one of the very few shows i ever watched on a weekly release basis.

i remember, up until season 8 when i stopped watching, i literally had never once in over 8 years missed an episode. i was seated at 9pm every sunday evening when it released.

my whole family sat around to watch it together, but we all stopped when they killed carl because that was just unforgivable, atrocious writing that we could not look past.

we tuned in for rick grimes' last episode, and for michonne, but we never watched the show in earnest after season 8.

i did, however, tune in to the finale last night. it was a bit bittersweet, now that i have grown up so much, i had a watch party with a group of friends rather than my family being together (people have moved out, moved on).

while watching it, it was just a tad disappointing because it really wasn't the walking dead for me. the walking dead died with carl grimes.

the camera angles, the filter, the camera quality, the characters, they just aren't what i fell in love with. i miss the grain, the hazy look, the lowkey-ness of it, the tight knit cast of characters. i miss the original opening credits. i miss rick grimes more than anything.

but, nevertheless, i was actually really impressed with the series finale. i cried. A LOT. the performances, specifically from connie, kelly, magna, yumiko, and luke in that first act of the episode... wow. i was a puddle of tears. i hardly knew those characters, but the walking dead has a phenomenal, talented cast.

and rosita, my love :( full on sobbing mess. she deserved better. she deserved to live forever with her baby girl that she fought so hard for. she deserved to go swimming, in the summer, with her bestie, eugene. a beautiful, powerful performance from christian serratos. rosita espinosa is a walking dead icon, one of its best characters. she deserved to make it to the end. that was a raw, heartbreaking end to her story.

and i dont know if i can put my love and emotions during that very final scene into words. rick grimes, my beloved. one of my all time favorite characters, the first character i ever stanned, a character i will always hold so close to my heart. you cannot have the walking dead without rick grimes.

i was convinced that neither rick or michonne would make an appearance. i should have known that andrew and danai wouldn't let the show end without one more epic scene.

i screamed, burst into even more tears, and had the body high of a lifetime when i got to see rick grimes on my screen again.

perfect ending to the finale, perfect final monologue, pitched in from the entire cast, finished by michonne and rick. the beautiful montage of all the past, iconic characters. the nods to all who built the walking dead and made it as incredible as it was. seeing glenn, carl, beth, hershel, and tara grace my screen again... it was a beautiful final few minutes to a show i will always, always, always love.

rick grimes has, what i consider to be, the most epic, intense, profound character arc of all time. i've loved him since season 1, and i'll follow his path through the walking dead universe with no hesitation.

rick grimes went from believing "we are the walking dead" to believing "we're the ones who live."

rick grimes, there is no character quite like you!

thank you to andrew lincoln for his flawless portrayal of one of the most badass main characters to ever exist in television history.

the walking dead changed, for the worse. but, that finale was truly a love letter to what it used to be. it was incredible. im so sad it's over, that it couldn't end during its peak, but i cannot wait to see rick grimes and michonne grimes back on my screen, next year.

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allthingsfangirl101 · 3 years ago

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A Tricky Thing Called Trust–Joe Keery

The last three months have been the worst three months of my life. Each one was worse than the one before. Three months ago, my boyfriend, Lucas broke up with me. He didn't really give me an explanation. He just said that he was getting bored and felt like our relationship was starting to get bland.

The breakup sent me into a dark pit of depression. I shut myself up and blocked out everything and everyone. The only person who could get through the darkness was Joe.

After the breakup, I called Joe sobbing. He rushed over and stayed with me all night. We fell asleep on the couch, binge-watching our favorite show. The next morning, I woke up with my depression episode already in full motion.

Joe stayed with me for a couple of days, but he eventually had to leave for work. When he left, my depression officially started to feel like I was suffocating. I stayed in bed and didn't move for days. Joe called me every day to make sure I was okay. I pretended I was fine, for his sake, but he saw right through me.

I've been getting worse with the more time that passed. Three months and I haven't slept, I've barely eaten, and I haven't left my bed. My phone kept ringing, but I didn't have the strength to get out of bed and grab it.

It kept going off until it finally stopped. Ten minutes after it stopped, there was a knock at my apartment door. I ignored it at first but they kept knocking. I slowly sat up and shakily made my way to the door. I opened it to see Joe standing there.

"Why haven't you been answering your phone?" He asked.

I tried to answer him, but I got dizzy. Joe jumped forward when my knees gave out. He didn't say anything as he easily picked me up bridal style. He carried me back into my apartment and to my bedroom. He laid me down, pulling the blanket up to my shoulders.

"When was the last time you had anything to eat?" He asked gently.

"I don't know," I said weakly. Joe sighed as he moved some hair out of my face.

"I'm going to go make you something," he said softly. "Stay here until I get back."

I was in and out of sleep as I heard Joe moving around in the kitchen. A little while later, the door opened back up. He didn't say anything as he helped me sit up. He put pillows behind me and handed me the sandwich he made.

Joe pulled my desk chair over to my bed and sat next to me while I ate. When I was done, he took the plate from me.

"I know you're mad," I whispered.

"I'm not mad," he sighed. "When you opened the door, you were so pale. . . It scared me, Y/N. I've never seen you like this."

I opened and closed my mouth, struggling to hold back my sob. It finally broke through when he grabbed my hand.

"I'm not doing well," I said through my sobs.

Joe jumped up and instantly laid down next to me. He wrapped his arms tightly around me as he pulled me into his chest. He rubbed my back and let me sob into his shirt.

"I know you're not," he sighed. "I'm here now and I'm going to help you get better. I promise."

* * * * *

Joe's been staying with me since I almost passed out. He's been taking care of me, making sure I eat and don't go to bed too late. The few times he's had to run an errand or go meet his manager, he'd make sure I knew that if I needed anything, his phone would be on.

Joe got back from a late lunch meeting with his manager and I was still laying on the couch. He hung his keys by the door and kicked off his shoes. I didn't look away from the tv as he walked in and stood behind the couch.

"Hey," he said softly. "What'cha watching?"

"New Girl."

"Ah," he laughed as he walked around the couch. He moved my feet briefly so he could sit under them. "Your favorite show," he continued. "What season are you on?"

"Season three."

"Is that before or after they hook up?"

"After," I mumbled. "They just ruined Cece's wedding."

"I love that episode," he laughed as he started rubbing my feet.

We sat in silence, watching several episodes. Joe continually glanced at me and I could tell something was on his mind.

"Say it."

"What do you mean?" He asked, clearing his throat.

"I know you have something you're dying to say," I sighed as I sat up and paused the show. "Just say it."

I turned towards him, clutching a pillow to my chest. He sighed before reaching over and putting his hand delicately on my knee.

"I hate how much this is affecting you," he sighed. "I understand why, I just. . . I wish there was something I could do."

"You've done everything," I whispered.

"Except listen," he said. "You know, we haven't actually talked about what happened."

"What is there to talk about?" I started to ask, but he cut me off.

"All you told me was that Lucas broke up with you," he said, his anger clear. "You didn't say why. I can tell you know why, so just tell me. Please? Y/N, I can't help you if you don't tell me why he ended things."

"It's because I'm not good enough," I finally confessed. The look in his eyes dropped. He grabbed my hands, unwrapped my arms from the pillow, and scooted closer to me.

"Y/N. . ."

"He said he was getting bored," I continued. "I wasn't exciting him anymore. He wasn't. . . He wasn't getting turned on by me anymore."

"That's ridiculous," Joe scoffed.

"It's what he said."

"Lucas said that to you?" He asked. When I nodded, his grip on my hands tightened.

"That's bullshit."

I tried to reassure him, but Joe's anger was building. I bit my bottom lip, struggling to hold in my sob.

"He's wrong," Joe said through his teeth. "He's dead wrong. Any guy who looks at you and thinks you aren't enough. . . I don't care what he thinks. He's an idiot and he never deserved you anyway. You're too good for that sorry excuse for a. . ."

"Joe."

My broken voice made him snap back to reality. He tossed the pillow on my lap aside and pulled me into his chest. He tightly wrapped his arms around me, refusing to let me go.

"I trusted him," I sobbed.

"Y/N," he sighed.

"You don't get it," I cut him off and roughly pulled out of his arms, instantly wrapping my arms around my knees.

"What don't I get?" He asked gently as he reached over and put his hand delicately on my arm.

"I trusted him."

"You said that," he whispered. "What do you mean. . ."

"He broke up with me the day after we slept together for the first time."

I held my breath as I waited for his reaction. I could see the anger in his eyes as he let my words sink in.

"He broke up with you after. . ." Joe let out what sounded like a growl. "I'm going to kill him."

"Joe," I whispered. "Please."

Joe took a shaky breath, struggling to control his anger. We sat in silence, neither one of us saying anything. Once he had calmed down, he scooted closer to me.

"I'm sorry," he sighed, "but can you blame me? You're my best friend, Y/N, and I've had to sit back and watch him treat you like you were nothing. He treated you like you weren't as amazing as you truly are. If I'm being honest, it was frustrating to watch. And now finding out he basically used you until he got what he wanted, just to break up with you after? It's infuriating."

Joe cut himself off when he saw the tears streaming down my face. He reached up and instantly caught it with his thumb, his hand lingering on my face.

"Anything else you want to get off your chest?" He asked softly.

I opened and closed my mouth, struggling to open up. He smiled as he dropped his hand, instantly grabbing mine and intertwining our fingers.

"You know you can trust me," he whispered.

"Can I?"

"Y/N," he stuttered.

"I don't know who I can trust anymore."

"Whoa," he cut me off, "Y/N, you know you can trust me. You've always been able to trust me."

"I know," I stuttered. "It's just. . . Lucas. . . I feel like. . . I can't trust anyone anymore."

I looked down at our intertwined hands with tears streaming down my face. I heard Joe take a few hesitant breaths. He put his other hand over our intertwined hands.

"Can I be the one to help you trust again?" I looked up at him when he finally spoke. I studied him, stunned by his question.

"What do you mean?"

I waited for him to explain, but he continued to hold back. "Joe?" I pressed, leaning closer to him.

"I love you, Y/N," Joe said sounding like this was a weight finally being lifted. "And not just in the 'you're my best friend so I love you' kind of way. In the 'I'm head over heels in love with you' way. I have for a while now. I've just been too afraid to tell you."

I studied him, trying to wrap my head around his confession. After all these years, could he really feel the same way I've felt about him since we were teenagers? How have I never noticed? Was I really that clueless? Or was he just that good at hiding it?

Joe took a shaky breath before continuing, "And when you started dating Lucas. . . He was such an asshole and he treated you like shit. Every time I heard the way he talked to you, I swear, I wanted to. . ."

My heart sank as he took a shaky breath. He looked down at our intertwined hands, slightly changing his gripping.

"Then I got sucked into Stranger Things," he sighed, "and I wasn't around as much. My schedule got crazy busy and it seemed like whenever I thought about telling you the truth, something always got in the way or stopped me. Those things weren't the only reason why I didn't tell you how I felt. It was because I was too much of a wimp. I can't tell you how many times I wish I had had the guts to tell you the truth."

He shook his head, still avoiding eye contact with me. He took another deep breath, letting it out audibly.

"I can't help but wonder how things might have been different if I had stopped being such a coward and told you. But I'm telling you now. I know it may not be the best time and if you don't feel the same way. . ."

My heart sank when his breath got stuck in his throat.

"If you don't feel the same way," he continued, his voice shaky, "then that's fine. I completely understand. I don't want things to be weird or awkward between us. That's the last thing I want. You're the most important thing in my life and, after all these years, I thought it was finally time you knew the truth."

I opened my mouth even though I didn't know what to say, but Joe kept talking.

"I know you're in a dark headspace right now," he sighed. My breath got caught in my throat when he finally looked up at me. "I know you've been through a lot of shit, mostly because of Lucas. But I want to show you that there are people in this world that you can trust and rely on. There is someone in this world who wouldn't dream of hurting you the way he did."

Joe held his breath as he waited for my response. I was shocked and my ability to speak was suddenly gone. We sat in silence and I struggled to process everything that Joe just confessed to me. The more we studied each other, the thicker the tension between us grew.

"Please," he whispered, "say something."

"I love you," I rushed out. I smiled when Joe let out a relieved sigh. He started to lean in, but I stopped him.

"But I'm not good enough."

Joe didn't let me finish my thought. He leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. I sucked in a breath, unable to understand why he would be kissing me. He broke the kiss and pulled away with a big smile on his face.

"You're good enough for me," he whispered.

"But Joe. . ."

"But nothing," he said quickly. "I know Lucas put negative thoughts in your head. Let me help you get them out."

"Joe."

"Y/N," he cut me off again. "I know you feel like you can't trust anyone right now. And that's fine. We'll work through it until you gain that trust back. I promise, Y/N."

This time it was my turn to cut him off.

"I trust you."

"You do?"

"Of course, I do," I whispered. I quickly added, "But it's still going to take some time for me to work through everything. . ."

I dropped my sentence and nervously chewed on my bottom lip.

"Let me help you with that," he whispered. "Please?"

I hesitated before leaning forward and pressing my lips to his. I blushed when I felt Joe smile into the kiss. I broke the kiss and leaned my forehead against his.

"Help me," I whispered, my breath getting stuck in my throat.

"You can trust me."

#joe keery #joe keery imagines #joe keery x reader #joe keery POV

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sky-berrie · 4 years ago

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Stitch - Damian

Summary: Another favorite trope - reader patches up a wound. Warning: mentions of blood.

The window opened behind you and you felt a cool summer night breeze brush against your neck. You didn’t bother to give the intruder any attention because you knew that Damian was the only person who could disarm the alarm and crack lock mechanism with ease. You thought the whole system was overkill but it pleased Damian to have it installed so you didn’t complain.

“Hey, Damian,” you greeted him robotically with your gaze still transfixed to your laptop screen and your back to the window. You were watching the events of the latest episode of your favorite show unfold.

You heard Damian land in your room with a grunt. He was usually quite graceful, however you guessed that his ribs and hip were still sore from the last sparing session he had with his brothers and sisters. That family took everything to a whole other level.

You heard Damian shut the window after himself. The sound of the latch being secured came next. Then you heard electronic beeps as he reactivated the alarm. “You –” he let out a sharp exhale. “You took home economics, right?”

“Yeah,” you replied, nonchalantly with a mouthful of popcorn. You didn’t take your eyes off the screen, but you heard the sound of his heavy boots carry him across your room.

“Good,” he said. A shaky breath infiltrated his normally self-assured voice. “And you remember most of it?” The bed springs creaked under his weight.

“Uh, yeah, I guess so.”

“Great,” he said. “What grade did you receive?” This wasn’t all that out of character for him. Damian was competitive in all aspects of his life. You wouldn’t be surprised if he wanted to compare home economics grades just so he could vaunt his skills.

“I don’t know, Damian,” you said honestly. You turned up the volume, hoping that Damian would get the hint that you wanted to watch your show in peace and quiet. “I think it was a good mark.”

Damian let out a heavy sigh of relief. “Excellent.” His voice sounded less troubled than before.

“Jon did most of my assignments,” you admitted unapologetically.

Damian was quiet for a moment. “Okay, but you attended the classes, correct?”

You didn’t answer right away. You were too focused on the climax of the episode. “Oh my goodness,” you muttered under your breath to yourself as the plot twist unveiled. “Um,” you said, remembering that Damian had asked you something. “Yeah, yeah, more or less.”

“Do you remember how to sew?”

“Sort of,” you told him. You had sewn on a button once. It didn’t look great, but it definitely wasn’t going anywhere.

“Well enough,” he said. “I need you to suture a laceration.”

“What?” you choked out. He said it so nonchalantly that you weren’t sure if he was serious or not, because a sane person would not be so stoic. You whipped around to find Damian lying on your bed in his Robin uniform. It was soiled with a layer of black, like he had been charred. It was so dark that it masked the staining of his blood and you wouldn’t have known he was bleeding if it weren’t for the pool of red soaking through your white comforter. He was holding his side with his hands at an awkward angle.

You had seen him with cuts and bruises and even broken bones, but never with the life bleeding out of him. “Oh my goodness!” you shrieked as panic filled your lungs. Your face contorted into a horrified grimace as you tried to stifle an expression of disgust. The strong stench of metal made your stomach churn and your head woozy.

You immediately felt horrible for not paying attention to him sooner. “Damian, why didn’t you say something? Holy crap! What the hell happened? You need an ambulance!” You turned around to reach for your phone.

“No,” Damian choked out. “Secret… identity,” he said with his eyes squeezed shut.

“What about your brothers and sisters? Your dad? Alfred?”

“On their way. No time to wait. First aid kit,” he implored weakly.

You ran for the bathroom and tore into the cabinet to find the massive first aid kit that Damian insisted you store. You had opened it once or twice to grab a bandage for a paper cut but you never touched the majority of the contents. You didn’t even know what half of the kit was for. You guessed that you might find out today.

When you returned to your room, Damian was moving slowly to unbutton his uniform. You helped him with the rest, trying to do it quickly without jostling anything. You tried to ignore the squishy wetness of the uniform, but your hands came away covered in a layer of crimson blood. Beneath the outer coat, his white undershirt was seeping with blood. There was a large tear in the fabric and a bit of the raw wound peeked through.

You didn’t have a fear of blood, really. You had no qualms about donating blood or seeing it on TV. This, however, was completely different. You were more terrified than you had ever been in your entire life. You had no idea what to do - everything you knew about CPR and standard first aid had inexplicably disappeared from your brain. Silent tears began to spill from your eyes as your breaths tore in and out of your throat, ragged and shallow.

“Y/N,” said Damian, firmly. Through your blurry, wet vision, you could see him straining to make eye contact with you. “Breathe. Everything is going to be fine. Just follow my instructions.”

Normally you trusted Damian, but this time his reassuring words didn’t have any kind of soothing effect on you. Your whole body was shaking now. You couldn’t find your voice. Instead, you shook your head.

“Yes, Y/N. It is going to be fine, but you must listen to me. Do you understand?”

You tried to take a deep breath, but an uncontrollable sob cut it short. If Damian could lie there halfway to death and still be composed, then you could at least pretend to be calm for his sake. You nodded your head this time, trying your best to even out your breathing. It was no use though. You couldn’t remember how to breathe.

“Thank you. Cut it,” he said, motioning to his undershirt.

You did as he ordered and cut a line right down the centre of his shirt. It was warm and wet and clung to his skin, so you peeled it off to reveal the full extent of a nasty looking wound. Even through your distorted, teary vision, you saw enough to know it was not good.

You felt faint at the sight of his insides. Or maybe it was your hyperventilating making you dizzy.

“Breathe, Y/N. Breathe and then get the sterile solution to irrigate it.”

You returned with freshly washed hands, a pair of gloves and a jug of irrigation solution. Following his instructions, you squeezed the syringe and expelled the liquid over his wound. It ran down his side and carried even more blood into your comforter.

“Okay,” he breathed out. “There should be a small white packet with a curved need and thread and a pair of suture holders. They look like scissors but without the blades.”

Your trembling hands had a difficult time picking out the items. Once you collected the materials, you looked at Damian for further directions.

“It’s a bit deep so you’ll need to close the layer under the skin first. Can you see it?”

You shook your head. His side was a giant red mess. You couldn’t make out anything except for blood and jagged skin. It was nothing like the clean and clear-cut diagrams you’d seen in class. “This is crazy! I can’t do this,” you cried. People spent years studying and training to do procedures like this. Stitching up a body was not something that a person should wing, and definitely not on their best friend, lying in an unsterile room.

“You can,” he assured you. “Pretend like you’re sewing some fabric. Start with this layer here.” Damian pulled at his skin and pointed to the inside with a pair of suture forceps. You couldn’t help but turn away and shut your eyes as he prodded himself. “Y/N,” he called your attention back. “Make sure the needle goes in like this and comes out like this,” said Damian as he demonstrated.

You were shaking your head. “You are absolutely insane! Sewing fabric is nothing like sewing a wound! Can’t we just wait for your dad or someone?”

“No time,” he said.

“Please, Damian,” you begged. “Let me call EMS.”

“No,” he asserted with what little strength he had.

“Please! I…”

“No,” he repeated. You could tell his patience was wearing thin.

“I understand you have to protect your secret identity, but Damian, come on. There won’t be an identity to protect if you die.”

“Batman…Nightwing…” he said weakly.

“They’ll understand!” you argued with desperation.

“No,” he mumbled. He shook his head.

Without any thought, your next words came flooding out straight from your heart. “Damian, I love you and I don’t want you to die!” Oh. That came as a shock to you. You’d never said anything like that before. In fact, you’d never even had a thought like that, but you knew it was the truth. Your hands almost flew to cover your mouth in regret, but the blood dripping from your hands stopped you.

Damian didn’t seem to notice your confession, or if he did, he didn’t acknowledge it. Had you not been utterly distracted by the emergency before you, you might have run away with embarrassment from your sudden proclamation.

“Please try for me, okay?” His eyes were starting to close, but you could see him struggle to keep them open.

You searched his eyes, to see that his once vibrant green eyes had a dull, hazy colour to them. Seeming to find what you were looking for, you conceded. You swallowed a lump in your throat. “Okay.”

It was the worst experience of your life. Damian walked you through the process, but nothing could prepare you for the nauseating feeling of piercing his skin and pulling the nylon thread through the thickness of the tissue. Seeing the inside of his body made you want to vomit but his life was at stake, and you had to be brave for him. Besides, he was the one who should be worried, not you. Your technique was obviously non-existent and you were certain that you were hurting him a hell of a lot more than he was letting on. He hissed and groaned and you apologized profusely but he insisted that you continue.

“Thank you,” said Damian after you tied the last knot. His eyes were heavy and lidded and you could tell he was barely hanging on to consciousness. “Knew you could do it.”

You had no response. Now that the worst part was over, the adrenaline had left your system and you were in shock. His hand lolled out in an attempt to offer you comfort, or maybe to seek comfort for himself. You weren’t certain which is was, but nevertheless, you instinctively clasped his hand in yours.

Then he said something that caught you off guard. His voice was so faint that you barely heard him. “For the record, I love you, as well.”

You weren’t sure if he really meant it. Maybe he was delirious. He did lose a lot of blood. You pondered it for a moment and wondered if you should feel mortally embarrassed when he was fully lucid, but just then, a gentle squeeze on your hand told you that you didn’t have to worry.

#Damian Wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x y/n #BatFam #batfam x reader #batfam x y/n #damian wayne imagine #batfam imagine #batboys #batboys x reader #batboys imagine #robinchicklets

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fortheloveofwonderland · 4 years ago

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Reid My Lips - Spencer Reid x fem! Reader

A/N - on the twelth and FINAL day of shipmas fortheloveofcriminalminds gave to me…Spencer x Reader Fluff! Hope you guys enjoyed them, I had a lot of fun writing these! Find my Shipmas masterlist here. Find my full masterlist here.

My taglists are open for Spencer x Reader and all works so let me know if you want to be added. Requests are also open.

Requested: Yes l No l Kind of ?

Idea came from @andiebeaword as I was struggling to come up with something that wasn't either angsty or smutty! - "What about one where they're dating, but haven't kissed yet, and every time reader tries, for some bizarre reason, Spencer keeps dodging them. reader thinks he's trying a subtle way to say he doesn't want to kiss when in reality, he just doesn't want reader to think he's a bad kisser" - Set circa s15, some spoilers for the last 2 episodes.

CW: none that I can think of! Just lusting after Spencer's lips. Some talks of Spencer's insecurites and lack of experience.

Plot: In which all the reader wants in the world is to feel Spencer's lips on hers.

WC: 2.4K

—————————————————————

Spencer Reid’s lips were the kind they would have written poetry about.

They were plump, sinfully so, the first time you’d met him several years ago when you joined the team it was the first thing you’d noticed about him. How it didn’t seem fair for him have had lips such as these bestowed upon him. He had the most kissable lips you’d ever seen in your life.

If you were a writer and not a profiler, you may well have tried to write a poem about them. But alas, a wordsmith you were not. So you had to make do with just staring at them every available opportunity you got.

When he’d finally plucked up the courage to ask you on a date after six years of working together you were thrilled to say the least. Finally, after all that time imaging what those lips would feel like, you might actually get to see for yourself.

For your first date Spencer took for you dinner at a fancy restaurant. Despite the fact you had known each other so long, the date was awkward.

Usually, you never struggled to find things to talk to Spencer about. Most of the time while the rest of the team were sleeping on the jet the two of you stayed up chatting aimlessly between you.

But somehow when the word date was used, it made everything uncomfortable between the two of you.

The night started as a long, drawn out silence but thankfully you both eased into it and by the time your main courses came you were able to chat a little more freely.

You’d had dinner together countless times over the years. But that was just as friends. Not as two people who were clearly attracted to one another even though deep down that’s what you’d always been.

Spencer walked you home after dinner. It was a mild night and you didn’t live too far from the restaurant so you thought the walk would be nice.

The first few blocks you fell back into that uncomfortable silence but thankfully you found your voices again.

Despite everything, you’d had a great time and you’d hoped Spencer had too.

As you stood awkwardly on the sidewalk outside your apartment you were desperate for him to kiss you. He wasn’t quite so shy and dorky as he had been when you first met so you’d thought he might make the first move.

He did not.

“Goodnight Y/N. I’ll see you Monday.” He offered you one of his shy waves.

No, this would not do. You’d been dreaming about those lips too long. It was time to do something about it.

You moved in close, your eyes closing as you neared his lips.

But what met your lips wasn’t his own. You felt prickly skin and your eyes shot open to see her had turned his head and your lips had landed on his stubble grazed face.

“Uhm…” you stepped back feeling incredibly uncomfortable. “Goodnight then I guess.”

You chalked it up to shyness. You guessed thirty plus years of insecurities couldn’t be washed away in a three month prison stint.

***

The next time an opportunity presented itself to steal a kiss from Spencer was a few weeks later.

You were out of town on a case and he’d invited you to his room to watch Doctor Who. You’d thought or maybe hoped it was just an excuse to get you alone in his room. You were surprised to say the least when he actually wanted to watch Doctor Who.

You sat side by side on his bed watching the small hotel TV. You dared to shuffle your hand closer until your fingers brushed and eventually you’d taken the plunge and entwined your fingers.

He didn’t seem to mind, he just gave your hand a firm squeeze as he held it.

About half way through the episode you decided to go for the kiss. You were desperate to feel those lips on yours and you hoped whatever awkwardness he felt on your date had since washed away.

You turned to face him, momentarily breathless at how beautiful he was.

“Spence,” you whispered prompting him to turn and face you.

He had a dopey half smile on those lips as he looked at you. You moved quickly, closing the space ready to feel those lips.

But once again you were met with his stubbly cheek.

You tried to tell yourself he was shy. That’s all it was. It’s not that he didn’t want to kiss you. It couldn’t be, right?

***

You’d started to think maybe Spencer had changed his mind about the two of you dating. It had been several weeks since your first date and although you’d been busy with back to back cases there had been time if he’d really wanted to take you out again.

It was nearly a month after your first date he finally asked you on a second. You’d jumped at the opportunity.

Spencer took you to the Smithsonian, you’d walked around hand in hand with Spencer telling you all kinds of facts and statistics the institution didn’t share.

You hung off his every word, mesmerised by the way his lips moved as he talked and wanting to feel them on yours with a white hot passion.

He took you for coffee after and you fell into comfortable conversation. But you couldn’t keep your eyes off those goddamn lips of his.

As you stepped out of the coffee shop hand in hand you made a quick move to place a chaste kiss on his lips as he was in the middle of telling you a story about his mom. You thought if you were fast enough he wouldn’t even see it coming and you could just get this awkward air out of the way.

You leant in fast, and as your lips were about to collide Spencer side stepped, turning to face the window of the coffee shop.

You stumbled, correcting yourself before you fell face first on the sidewalk.

“I didn’t know they had donuts! Now I want a donut.” He chuckled and suddenly he was heading back inside.

“Goddamnit Spencer.” You groaned under your breath.

By now you were starting to think he just didn’t like you. Why else would he keep dodging your attempts at kissing him?

You felt downtrodden. You felt insecure. Why on Earth had he asked you out if he didn’t want to kiss you?

***

Six dates in and all you’d done still was hold hands. You really didn’t get him. He kept asking you out but never seemed interested in doing anything other than hand holding.

You liked Spencer, a lot, but you were not willing to be in a relationship where there was no kind of intimacy.

But that was all pushed to the back of your mind when you and JJ found Spencer passed out in his apartment.

He’d been involved in an explosion thanks to the psychopath Everett Lynch. He was late for work the following day which was really unlike Spencer so you and JJ went to check on him. That’s when you’d found him.

While the rest of the team worked on finding Lynch, you stayed vigil at his bedside.

When he’d finally woken up tears streamed down your face and you’d be up like a shot.

“Oh my god Spence,” you sobbed. “I thought I was going to lose you.” You leant in to kiss his chapped lips.

He rolled his head to the side on the pillow, once again your lips meeting stubbly skin.

“I’m really thirsty.” He croaked, seemingly ignoring your actions.

You swallowed your pride with a sigh.

“I’ll get you some water Spence.” And with your tail between your legs you left the room in search of hydration.

***

After that you’d decided no more. You were fed up feeling a fool every time you tried to make a move on him only to be shot down.

So you decided you wouldn’t bother anymore.

Since he left hospital the two of you still hung out but it was less frequent as usual and the word date was never used again.

One night, it came to a head.

You were in Spencer’s apartment watching some foreign film which you were struggling to comprehend despite the subtitles.

Your mind was whirring, lost down a rabbit hole of thoughts of you and Spencer. You were so preoccupied in your own head you didn’t even notice when Spencer scooted closer to you or put his arm around your shoulders.

“Y/N?” He whispered your name, snapping you out of the abyss.

“Hmm?” You turned to face him.

His tongue glided over his bottom lip and his eyes were trained on your lips.

The next few seconds happened in slow motion. Spencer started edging closer to you, his eyes fluttering closed and his lips pursed.

And you turned your head to face the TV, allowing his lips to hit your cheek the way yours had to him so many times.

He made a strange noise that sounded halfway between a sigh and a groan. You tried to pretend you were focused on the TV. You felt his eyes on the side of your face and you tried to ignore it.

After a few minutes Spencer paused the film, the room falling silent. You swallowed a lump in your throat and slowly turned to face him.

“Why’d you stop the film?” you hoped your voice didn’t sound as shaky as you thought it did.

“I think we need to talk.” Spencer chewed his lip. “I think I need to explain why I’ve been so...weird.”

“Spencer, trust me when I say you being weird is not an unusual thing.” you tried to lighten the mood.

“Weirder than usual then.” he was fidgeting in his seat, wringing his hands together in his lap.

“I hadn’t noticed.” you lied.

“Yes you have.” he told you.

“Look Spence,” you sighed. “If you don’t want to kiss me I get it. But why would you ask me out if that’s not what you wanted?” the words spilled out of your mouth.

He nodded his understanding at your words, running one hand through his messy locks.

“I do want to kiss you Y/N.” his cheeks stained red with embarrassment. “I’ve always wanted to kiss you, since the first time I met you. Jeez, kissing is just the tip of the iceberg of things I want to do with you.” his blush deepened.

Your chest tightened at his words, a twinge passing between your legs.

“You uhm...you have a funny way of showing it.” your voice was breathy. You didn’t mean it to be.

“I know.” he nodded, gnawing his bottom lip. “I freaked myself out. I got in my head and I panicked and I didn’t know how to deal with that. So I dealt with it really, really badly and I’m sorry.”

“What were you freaking out about Spence?”

He sighed heavily, the blush still straining his cheeks.

“It took me six years to finally work up the courage to ask you out.” he laughed shyly. “But when I finally did, I was terrified I wouldn’t be good enough.”

Your face dropped, sadness in your eyes.

“Spencer,” you reached for him and took hold of his hand. It was sweating and shaking.

He shook his head sadly, telling you not to try and convince him otherwise.

“Y/N, I am not...not so great with women in case you’d never picked up on that.” he chuckled again, but again it was a shy sound. “I don’t ha-have...so much ex-experience.” he swallowed hard. “There have only been...a few...women. Not enough to make me an...ex-expert in any sense.” he swallowed again. “I just wanted to be...good...for you.”

“Oh Spencer,” you felt tears in your eyes. You had no idea he’d been going through this mental turmoil. “Spencer I don’t care. I’ve wanted you for six years. Trust me, there is no way in hell you will not be good enough. I am crazy about you Spence, and all I want in the whole right now is to kiss you. I have waited too long to know what those lips would-”

He cut you off when his lips suddenly crashed against yours.

You let out a small whimper as those plump lips of his finally kissed you. They felt better than your wildest imagination.

The whimper allowed Spencer to slide his tongue in your mouth. He held your face in his large hands, exploring your mouth with fervor.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you.

It was without a doubt the single most magical experience of your life. Nothing could have prepared you for how good his kiss would be.

It sent goosebumps flaring across your skin, making your chest tighten with lust.

It made you wet between your legs.

Maybe you should take a writing class because these lips, this kiss, definitely deserved poems written about them.

Your whole body felt as though it were on fire, every nerve ending in your body tingling with desire.

When the kiss ended you both gasped for air, trying to satiate your now empty lungs.

Spencer’s cheeks stained red again as he waited for your reaction shyly.

“I hope that was o-ok.” He stuttered a little.

You couldn’t help the large smile that broke out across your face.

“Spencer Reid, that was more than ok. It was perfect.”

His blush deepened and he looked away from you briefly before finding your eyes once more.

“Good.” He swallowed. “Because there’s a lot more I want to do with you Y/N.”

His words made you shudder.

“Now?” You swallowed, feeling oddly nervous.

“Right now.” He nodded before taking your face in his hands and kissing you again.

He was going to show exactly what his lips could do. And those poems practically wrote themselves between the sheets.

—————————————————————

Taglist -

@muffin-cup

@andiebeaword

@mggsprettygirl

@measure-in-pain

@ptrs-prkrs

#12 days of shipmas #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader

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youryanderedaddy · 4 years ago

Note

Imagine a yandere ghost who is cursed is trapped in the doll, so one day a family came to live in his house, but what the ghost did not expect is to fall in love with the couple's eldest daughter. Maybe this yandere ghost (doll) use the younger brother to get closer to his beloved...

I didn't really include the doll, but the overall idea is here ;)

Tw: nsfw, non - con, underage sex? (The reader is meant to be around 18, her brother is 16 - 17, but the ghost is 100+ so idk), (technically) incest, ghosts, possession, possessive/obsessive behavior, slight parental neglect ig

You knew it was a mistake moving into the old house up the hill. You tried arguing with your parents so many times about the mansion being hidden in the woods, so far away from any civilization, bringing up the fact it hadn't been bought for the last 8 years despite the insanely low price or the news about the previous owners dying in their sleep just like that, from "natural causes" even though they were an young energetic couple. But of course your worries had been discarded so easily since your younger siblings were ecstatic, constantly talking about finally living in a castle, which was obviously pushing it too far, but kids will be kids.

Your family was big, consisting of your mother, father, two younger sisters and a brother currently in his late teens. Your siblings managed to take all the nice bright rooms on the second floor so you were forced to sleep in the attic. At first it didn't seem so bad, yes, the place was dark and dusty, the space was limited, but it was a quiet spot and there were many interesting things left there to explore and discover.

The first week you discovered a huge box full of old books, medals, notebooks and different souvenirs from all over the world. The second week you found a few paintings covered by a thin disheveled cloak, most of them depicting a pretty young boy with golden locks and sad green eyes, dresses in an expensive silky clothing resembling what was nowadays considered an elegant suit. You didn't pay it much mind yet the miserable longing gaze of the kid haunted your dreams in the following days.

During the third week you noticed that things were going missing one by one. First it was your favorite lipstick, then your new dress, and suddenly your favorite items were gone just like that. On top of all, almost as if fate was tickling your paranoia, you could hear certain sounds at night that were too distorted be natural and too human to belong to an animal. There were sobs, loud and tormented, sometimes you could make up a few words in a language no one spoke anymore. You slept less and less each night, you could swear you felt someone's lingering touch on your shoulders, them gently stroking your hair and even pressing their cold unmoving lips on yours. This was usually the point when you opened your eyes and screamed in fear only to realize you were alone in the room. There was nobody there.

Still you decided to speak with your parents about the creepy events taking place in the attic. Much to your dismay they brushed your concerns off once again, laughing softly and calling you a scaredy - cat, going as far as to joke around about your "oh so creative" imagination getting the best of you just like it did in your childhood. But this time you insisted on holding your ground, almost begging them to take action and help you. At the end your mother decided to let you sleep in your brother's room for a while until you calm down, and as embarrassing it was to share a room with a hormonal teen, it was better than constantly being on the edge and losing sleep. Or so you thought.

The first night you slept in Steve's room nothing out of the ordinary happened and for the first time in weeks you actually managed to rest. The second night was blissfully peaceful as well and you quickly fell into a deep dreamless slumber.

The third night started well, just like the previous two. Your brother was tired from studying all day and went to bed early, giving you the freedom to relax a little bit before following his example. You could read a book or try to revise for your exam tomorrow, maybe even call your bestfriend and finally let her know all about your new classmates and just how boring life in the village was. But in that moment all these suggestion sounded annoying, nothing was interesting enough to hold your interest for more than a minute. Thinking about what to do next, you suddenly became aware that your body was tense and tired, but your mind was restless. After all you hadn't had time for self - care between the paranoia episodes and the fear, maybe it was finally time to do something nice and therapeutic for yourself.

You snatched a quick look at Steve and he was sleeping soundly, snoring from time to time, his usually angry face now calm and childlike. Making sure there was no one in the room awake, you finally slipped a hand down your pajama bottom until you felt the soft fabric of your panties. You closed your eyes and run a finger up and down your clothed sex, following the line of your slit. Your pussy throbbed at the sudden contact, the lack of pleasure in the last few weeks making it sensitive to the touch. You pushed your underwear lower so it hanged around your legs, and shoved one finger into your warm hole, enjoy the way your walls clenched around the digit. You flicked your clit gently, feeling it swell from the arousal, rubbing slow circles and pressing on your sweet spot every once in a while.

Your free hand went to your breasts, bare under the comfy oversized shirt, and awoke the cherry nipples with subtle pinches causing them to harden. You couldn't help but moan quietly as you decreased the pace of which you teased your hole and added a second finger in your pussy, fucking yourself on it. You were so focused on chasing your pleasure you didn't even notice the hand on your thigh pulling your own away from your excited throbbing core and replacing it with a big hard cock. Only once its head reached your tight entrance and pressed on it did your mind register the atrocious size difference. Your words stilled in your throat, the sudden panic rising in your chest, making your vision blurry and your cheeks rosy pink. You finally opened your eyes, your heart racing at the image of your younger brother towering above you with his member so close to entering your heat.

"Steve, what are you doing?" You whispered as you tried to squirm away from the boy, but he was quicker in pinning your wrists above your head in a deadlock. When did the male become so strong? Just yesterday he would ask you to open up his water bottle and help him with his math homework and now he was doing this...

"My name is Henry, my love." The voice was different from your brother's, lower and huskier, gentler in a way. You narrowed your eyes and observed the teenager's face, gasping as you noticed that his eyes had changed from black to green, yet all his other features had stayed stayed the same. You wanted to ask so many questions - who is Henry, why were your sibling's eyes and voice different from before - but you were quickly shut by one stern gaze. "I used to live here 80 years ago." The stranger started off with an unexpectedly soft tone as his grip on your wrists loosened. "I'm a ghost. I possessed your brother." He confessed calmly while you watched his pink lips part slightly with each breath as if you were in a trance before you found the strength to break your silence.

"Why are doing this to me? Why did you take my brother's body?" You questioned him manically, feeling like a confused little lamb sent to the slaughter, trembling and stuttering in front of a knife. Henry simply chuckled at your adorable dumbfounded expression and lowered his torso until his face was mere inches away from yours and you could feel his ice - cold breath on your warm red cheek. "Because I love you, darling." The ghost replied with a confident smirk that looked so weird and unnatural on the younger boy's face you almost gagged. Before you had the chance to say anything, he continued. "I've been wanting you for a while now, little girl. And with this body I can finally have you all to myself." You opened your mouth in a protest but your screams were easily muffled by a harsh kiss and a wet tongue down your throat. Next thing you knew the man had pushed your brother's manhood into your wet sloppy cunt in one sharp thurst and in your despair you had yelled for help once again, the ghost taking your whimpers greedily and shushing them away. Struggling was pointless.

In the next hour you were reduced to a sweaty whimpering mess of pain and arousal, fear and pleasure. The ghost was fucking you in a fast brutal pace while his free hand was playing with your clit, bringing you so damn close but never enough to send you over the edge. You were crying and your whole body was aching, your tits red from the rough manhandlind, your lips bruised and swollen from the rough kisses and bites. There were purple hickeys adorning your neck, belly and thighs and you went quiet in embarrassment every time you wondered how you would be able to hide them the next day.

"Please, whoever you are, let me come, I'm begging you." You pleaded desperately as you arched your back to meet the next couple of deep thrusts. Your cheeks were wet with tears and you could even taste the bitter salty flavor in your mouth mixed with your own drool and saliva. Upon hearing your meek pleas the man mercifully started hitting your cervix with each shove until his moves became sharp and quick, targeting your g-spot. You were so close you could feel your abdomen clench and tighten from the tingling sensitations. "Please..." You uttered weakly again, making doe eyes at your brother.

"Say you love me. Tie your soul to mine forever and I'll give you exactly what you want, beloved." Henry basically growled in your ear as he groped your breasts, squizing lightly the soft flesh. Your mind was so hazy and clouded you weren't sure how to respond so you just repeated the words easiest to grasp. "Love... you... forever, ngggh..." You muttered under your breath before moaning wantonly when the forceful thrusts finally sent you over the edge and your pussy clamped down in a big, satisfying orgasm. Your bliss was short - lived because soon the ghost was pounding into you again and again, keeping you too tired to move, struggle or even speak properly besides whimpering every once in a while. The rest of the night was a blur but eventually you fell asleep from the exhausting and the pleasure.

You woke up sore, your eyes red and puffy, your muscles tense and unnatentive. You rushed to look at your brother, but the teenager was sleeping just as peacefully as he did eight hours ago. One side of you was more than glad to know everything that had happened was simply a bad, terrible dream, while the other one still felt extremely uncomfortable and uneasy. You couldn't bear staying in the room any longer so you got dressed and went into the hall. Everyone else was still asleep and you felt as restless as if you hadn't caught a blink at all. You finally gave in to your paranoia and climbed the stars leading to the third floor.

You knelt on the ground where you had found the beautiful paintings. Those green eyes from your dream seemed way too familiar for it to be a coincidence. When you finally got a hold of your favorite piece, the one with the sad young boy, you had to cover your mouth to suppress the shock. There wasn't an aristocrat with golden locks on the picture anymore.

Now the one trapped in the painting was none other than you own brother, Steve. Instead of misery and pain in mysterious blue eyes, there was only terror in his tormented black ones. You screamed for the last time before you dropped the picture on the ground and ran away from the attic, the tears streaming down your face, but unfortunately, there was no escape from the restless dead souls.

#yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere oc #male yandere #yandere smut #yandere male #yandere oc x reader #yandere male x reader #yandere oneshot #yancore #yandere concept #male yandere x you #tw incest #tw non con

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twinklelilstarkey · 4 years ago

Text

Kicked Out - Rafe Cameron

Words: 1.8k+

Type: Angst

Summary: Rafe is kicked out of the house by Ward and runs to you when it happens.

Warnings: Being kicked out. And a whole lot of crying. This is so depressing, jeez louise.

DO NOT REPOST, REWRITE OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORK!

(You can imagine this with canon Rafe, since it’s based of a scene from the show. But that literally doesn’t change a thing to the story, so... do what you’d like)

Credits

Tears are already dry on Rafe’s face. They’ve stopped running down his cheeks as he was able to walk his way out of the Cut. And now, he’s just a few steps away from his home.

Or at least what he used to call home.

His phone is already low on battery, but from the times he checked it, it has been almost an hour since his dad left him with Barry.

The muscles of his legs are aching as he continues to walk his way to the front door. The front door and front garden are illuminated by the automatic yellow lights, which almost seem blinding his sensitive eyes.

He unlocks the front door with his key slowly to try and keep the house with its natural silence.

He steps in, head pounding under his fingertips once he brings them to his temples.

And all he can feel is pure exhaustion.

Passing through the lobby of the house was easy, his shoes didn’t make any loud noise to catch anyone’s attention and he didn’t knock anything over. But that invisibility to his family only lasted until he walked past the living room.

“Rafe?” Wheezie says over the sound of the TV, still sitting next to her mom.

“Shit” He whispers to himself.

He ignores his stepsister’s voice and forces his legs to move towards the stairs and up to his room.

The small girl, with the absence of his answer, gets up from the couch and walks towards the door. But as she got there, Rafe has already made his way up the stairs.

She follows him, without a care in the world, only trying to make simple conversation. But as soon as her eyes land on him, she frowns. He looked tense and seemed as if he was careful to even step into the floor of his own home.

He opens the door of his room and sighs, taking in the last looks before he has to leave.

Wheezie, equally as careful with her steps, walks to his wide-open door and is surprised to see him grab a duffel bag and a backpack from the last drawer of the wardrobe.

“Are you going camping or something?” She finally talks.

Rafe looks up quickly, alert by the loud sound of his sister’s voice, and the girl scowls at his face.

Eyes swollen and red and cheeks flushed. Which could mean many things. But his sniffles were the last clue.

“Have you been cri-” She starts but a voice stops her.

“Wheezie what are you doing in Ra- What are you doing here?” Ward asks as he peeks inside the room and sees the son he just kicked out.

“I- Uhm... I-I’m packing” Rafe answers, careful with his words.

Ward studies his son with a rigid look on his face and clenches his jaw.

“Make it quick”

“Yes, sir” He answers, looking back down to his bags.

Rafe, right there and then, turned to his wardrobe and grabbed everything he could see, shoving it into the bags.

“What is going on?” Wheezie asks her brother loudly as he runs through the room, trying to find everything he might need.

“I got kicked out”

Rafe sniffles again and opens one more drawer, grabbing all the socks and underwear he could see.

The silence fills the room once more, and this time it’s heavy and dense. Almost making it hard to breathe.

Wheezie stands in the doorway, holding her own sweaty hands while watching Rafe pack up all of his belongings in silence, not knowing what to say or ask.

Rafe grabs his charger from his desk and shoves it in the already full bag. He stands straight quickly and pulls his phone out of his pocket, 2%.

He quickly unlocks it and scrolls through his contacts, clicking on your name. He stares down at the contact picture before bringing it to his ear, as wave of warmth and comfort washes over him as he stares at you.

His eyes fill up in tears and he stares up at the wall, bringing the phone up to his ear, listening to the ringing and waiting for you to pick up.

Voice mail.

“Fuck” He whispers to himself.

He can always sleep over at Topper’s but that doesn’t seem... right.

He turns back to his bags once more and closes them, throwing both over his shoulder as he checks around the room to see if he forgot anything.

“Where are you going to stay?” Wheezie asks, making the boy look down at her again.

“I don’t know yet” He answers, voice cracking slightly at the end.

Rafe clears his throat as to act as if it wasn’t what it sounded like and Wheezie’s eyes fill with tears at the sound of it. Rafe looks away, biting his lip as a way to fight the wave of emotions that’s coming his way, and walks towards the doorway, closer to her.

“Will you visit?” She asks.

Her voice is low, almost a whisper. Almost sounding as if she’s scared of what words to use. But filled with sadness and shaking at every syllable.

“I don’t think I can” He replies, voice as shaky.

Wheezie, with that, wraps her arms around Rafe and hugs his torso. A sob escapes her mouth and Rafe looks away from her again, not wanting to break down once more.

(...)

You’re deep into your sleep at around midnight, notifications off your phone and random episodes of a random reality show play as background noise.

You’ve had a rough week with college, but you’re finally done with your tests. You only have to worry about projects now.

A light knock on your door awakes you and you stare at the darkness of your dorm in confusion. Who in their right mind is knocking at your door at 3am?

You try and ignore it, hoping that it’s just a drunk college student, trying to find his room while intoxicated.

But the person doesn’t give up.

You sigh loudly while throwing your covers off you, letting the cold air touch your warm skin. You shiver slightly as you put on the hoodie that rests at the end of your bed but it’s warmth quickly calms you down.

You walk towards the door, trying your best to not trip over anything on the dark room, and open it.

“Rafe?” You ask in a whisper.

You cringe at the strong lighting of the hallways and your boyfriend stares down at you. You turn on the light beside you and you frown at him.

“What’s wrong?”

Rafe visits you every weekend, so seeing him at your door at a Friday night is not too rare. But he’s never this late.

Or with bags this full.

“Can I come in?” He asks, low tone.

You nod and open the door widely so he can walk in comfortably.

The warmth of the room welcomes Rafe as soon as he steps in, and he puts down both of his bags beside the door.

You grab his hand, not only to get a hold of him but also to get his attention, and he looks away from the floor to look at you.

“Is everything okay?” You ask with the sweetest tone you could pull off.

Rafe lifts his gaze somewhere else at your question, not wanting to continue eye contact. He just shakes his head as a ‘no’, as emotions overflow him and make his chin shake.

You pull his hand towards your hip and quickly wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a hug. Rafe does the same, wrapping his arms around you as he lays his head on top of yours.

He doesn’t want to cry in front of you, but it’s getting harder and harder as he holds it in.

“You can tell me anything” You whisper into his chest, voice muffled by his shirt, “You know that”

“I know” He says, this time louder, but shakier.

You lift your head up to look at him and the sight just breaks your heart into an uncountable amount of pieces.

“Let’s sit” You tell him as a way to try and make him feel more comfortable.

He nods and let’s go of you for that minute, slowly. You grab his hand again and pull him to sit next to you on the bed. You sit quietly looking at him as his hand grabs onto yours tightly.

“Dad kicked me out” He whispers while looking at the ground, not wanting to see your reaction.

“What?” You ask shocked, “why?”

“I fucked up” He replies, shrugging his shoulders, “Like always” he adds.

With that you let go of his hand and cup his face. His warm hand now sits on your cold leg as you force him to look at you.

Tears have escaped Rafe’s eyes as he stared into the ground, and when staring at you, it only made it worse.

“Bubba, I-”

“I fucked up really bad” He emphasizes.

You clean his tears with your thumbs and he stares at you silently.

“Do you have a place to stay?” You ask him and he shakes his head.

Rafe looks away again, blinking his new tears away as he pretends to look out of the window. Your hands now resting at his jaw and back of his head, caressing him.

“You can stay here, with me” You offer, “I don’t share this dorm with anyone... And they almost never check who is sleeping on each dorm, anyways”

He stares back at you and clenches his jaw.

“Can I?” He asks, “It will be temporary, I- I promise”

“Of course, you can. As long as you need”

Rafe gives you a small broken smile and wraps his arms around you again, pulling you towards his side in a hug. You wrap your arms around his neck and give in to the tight hug. One of your hands rests over his hair and you play with it slowly, as a way to comfort him.

You two stay like this for a bit, just until you need to go lock your dorm room door again and turn off the lights.

Rafe lays with you as you come back to bed, and after you offered to give him more blankets or even more comfortable clothes (previously stolen a few months back from his room).

You lay over his chest, letting him play with the ends of your hair as always as you watched whatever is on the screen of your laptop.

You fell asleep almost an hour later of cuddling and laying in the silence.

But Rafe didn’t. The first minutes of you being asleep were calm and quiet. Almost made it seem like he was back to his past reality.

But he didn’t blink an eye the whole night. Because that’s his true reality now. He’s not ready to walk alone for the rest of his life. Even with you. He’s not ready for anything.

Nobody prepared him for this, especially his own dad. And he’s scared of it. Maybe even terrified of what’s to come.

And there’s nothing he can do but let it happen. And that terrifies him.

- - - - - - -

Why do I only write angst? Is this too depressing? I’m so sorry.

My requests for Rafe are still open! You can request anything (except for smut)!

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potionsprefect · 4 years ago

Text

Away in D.C

Pairings: Ethan Ramsey x Victoria Clarke

Word count: 3.7k

Summary: Ethan has to leave for a medical conference and the family learn to deal with it.

Rating: General Audiences

Category: angst, fluff

He ended the call and put his phone down, running a hand over his face.

It was confirmed he was needed in Washington D.C for a 4 day medical conference.

“Confirmation?” Victoria said from her spot on the bed.

Ethan looked at her. “Yes, 4 days in Washington.”

Victoria gave him a small smile as she moved closer to him and wrapped her arms around him. “We’ll be okay. You’ve had to do this before.”

“That was when they were really small. They’ll remember this one.” Ethan replied.

“It’ll be ok. I’m here and I’ll make sure they have the best time whilst your away.” Victoria said leaning in to kiss Ethan’s neck.

“I really don’t want to go though.” Ethan sighed.

“I know you don’t baby. But you have too. It’ll be over before you know it.” Victoria said.

The older the twins got, the harder it was to leave them. The last time Ethan had to go away for a conference, the twins weren’t old enough to remember. Now they were at an age where they would realise Ethan wasn’t around and it would hit them hard.

“Come on, let’s go tell them.” Victoria said getting up, gently grabbing Ethan’s hand pulling him up. The two made their way downstairs where their two young children were playing with their toys.

“Hi Mommy, Daddy.” Luke smiled up at them. Lily was concentrating on her Barbie dolls.

“We’ve got something we need to tell you. And you’ve got to be very grown up about it.” Victoria said sitting down and pulling Luke into her lap, Ethan did the same with Lily.

“What’s wrong?” Luke asked, noticing a change in mood.

“I’ve got to go away for a few days. I have something really important to do.” Ethan said.

The twins looked between Ethan and Victoria, Lily cuddling against Ethan the more she looked at him.

“Is it to do with work?” Luke asked.

“That’s right. But I’ll be home before you know it.” Ethan said.

“And I’ll be here to make sure you’re both okay. We’ll have the best weekend ever.” Victoria replied.

Luke smiled although Victoria could tell he was forcing it but Lily seemed to be taking it the hardest. She buried her face into Ethan’s shoulder, his arms tightening around her tiny waist, holding her close.

Victoria could sense that Ethan would talk to Lily so she turned to Luke. “How about we go find Jenner?” She suggested. Luke jumped up at that and raced into the kitchen. As Victoria followed him, she briefly looked back and could hear soft sobs coming from Lily.

“I found Jenner!” Luke exclaimed as the golden retriever licked his face making him giggle.

“Thats great. Mommy needs to ask you something.” Victoria picked him up and sat him at the kitchen table. “Are you okay with Daddy going away? It’s okay if you’re not, Mommy’s here to help you.”

“I know he’ll be back. Daddy always comes back.” Luke said, pretending to race his car along the kitchen table.

“It’s great that you think that. Lily’s a bit upset by it all so you’ll have to be extra nice to her and we can both cheer her up. I know! Shall we make a list of things to do this weekend and then we can tell Daddy all about them when he comes home?” Victoria suggested.

“Yeah!’ Luke grinned. Victoria grabbed a notepad.

“How about we have a pyjama day on Saturday? We can watch all your favourite tv shows and films?”

“Yeah! And can we have pizza?”

“Why not? How about ice cream as well? And on Sunday I’ll cook you your favourite meal.” Victoria said.

“Yes spaghetti!”

Victoria laughed as she made notes, this also included time on their climbing frame in the garden and going to the park as well as endless amounts of cuddles.

“Mommy will Lily be ok?” Luke asked.

“She’ll be fine. She’s just a little sad that Daddy’s going away but he won’t be long.”

Back in the living room, Ethan was comforting Lily who was holding onto him as if she didn’t want to let go.

“I don’t want to go away either Lil. But Mommy’s here and she’ll look after you.” Ethan forced Lily to look at him.

“I don’t like it when you’re not here.” Lily said.

“I don’t either sweetpea. But sometimes we have to do things we don’t really want to do.” Ethan replied stroking Lily’s hair.

“Like when Mommy makes me eat vegetables?”

“Yes exactly like that.” Ethan chuckled. “I’m gonna miss you too, but we can FaceTime with Luke and Mommy every evening. Does that sound okay?”

Lily nodded, a smile forming on her face. “When do you go?”

“I leave tomorrow night and come back Monday evening. I promise you the time will go very quickly. How about we do something tomorrow before I leave? Just you, your brother and me?” Ethan suggested.

“What about Mommy?”

“I already asked Mommy and she said it was a great idea.” Ethan smiled. Truth be told, Ethan knew Victoria would say yes because it would mean her having time to herself.

“Okay.” Lily smiled throwing her arms around Ethan who hugged her just as tightly back.

“Shall we go and see what Luke and Mommy are up to?” Ethan asked.

“Okay.” Lily replied. She hopped off Ethan’s lap and headed to the kitchen, Ethan following shortly behind her.

— — — — —

Ethan made his way down the stairs, luggage in hand and set it down by the front door. It was pitch black, the outside being lit by the street lights.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drop you off at the airport?” Victoria asked coming out of the living room.

“No it will just make the goodbye even harder.” Ethan sighed wrapping his arms around Victoria.

“Try not to have too much fun.” Victoria smiled leaning against his chest.

“Impossible without you.” Ethan chuckled slightly leaning down to press a heated kiss to Victoria’s lips.

“Text me when you land.”

“Of course. I better get going.”

As if on cue, the kids ran into the hallway, throwing their arms around Ethan as he bent down to hug them.

“I’ll miss you both so much, promise me you’ll be good for Mommy?” Ethan looked at the twins.

“We will. Promise you’ll think about us?” Lily looked at Ethan, green eyes staring into blue.

“All the time, I promise.” Ethan smiled. Ethan gave the twins one last big hug before standing up and opening the door. “I’ll see you all in a few days.” Ethan headed out the door.

“Bye!” The twins and Victoria chorused before they shut the door.

“Go to the window and wave to Daddy.” Victoria instructed. The twins ran into the living room and climbed onto the sofa waving as the taxi pulled out the driveway and round the corner.

Once the car was out of sight Luke went back to his racing car whilst Lily flopped down onto the sofa and cuddled her teddy.

“Come on, let’s get you into bed.” Victoria picked Lily up who rested her head on her shoulder.

“Mommy pick me up too!” Luke said holding his arms up. Laughing, Victoria picked him up and carried them up the stairs.

It didn’t take the twins long to get ready for bed. As they were brushing their teeth, Lily asked “Mommy can I sleep in your bed tonight?”

“Is your bed not comfy enough?” Victoria knelt down so she was eye level with her daughter.

“It is. But Luke and I don’t want you to be lonely.” Lily sighed.

“We don’t?” Luke said, a mouth full of toothpaste. Lily nudged him, silently urging him to play along. “I mean yes we don’t!”

“That’s very sweet of you. And I don’t see why not.” Victoria smiled.

The twins grinned as they finished brushing their teeth and made their way to Ethan and Victoria’s bedroom.

“Did you both enjoy your day at the petting zoo with Daddy?” Victoria asked as she tucked the twins into Ethan’s side of the bed.

“Yeah we saw lots of animals.” Luke said.

“He even bought us something from the gift shop.” Lily replied.

Victoria smiled as she listened to their stories of today. It wasn’t long before both of the twins began to drift off to sleep and with a final kiss on each of their foreheads, she quietly crept out the room.

Victoria tidied up the living room and turned on the TV. She watched a few episodes of a new crime drama that was airing, until she felt exhaustion creeping up on her a few hours later and decided to go to bed.

Victoria slipped on her pyjamas and brushed her teeth before quietly making her way into her bedroom. Her heart swelled at her two young children cuddled up against each other fast asleep.

As Victoria hit the pillow, her phone lit up with a notification.

Landed safely, speak to you tomorrow x

Smiling, Victoria fell asleep.

— — — — —

The early morning sunrise woke Victoria up the next morning. Luke and Lily were still fast asleep as Victoria quietly got dressed. When she went back into her bedroom she gently roused the twins from their sleep.

“No Mommy I’m not awake.” Lily pulled the duvet over her and Luke.

“Sounds like you are to me.” Victoria chuckled.

“It’s too early.” Luke whined.

“Okay, I guess I’ll just eat all the pancakes.” Victoria pretended to walk away.

“No I’m up, I’m up!” Lily jumped out of bed and ran to Victoria, Luke not far behind her.

“Okay then let’s go make some pancakes. Do you want to hold my hand?”

“No we’re big now we can do it ourselves!” Luke replied.

The three made their way downstairs to the kitchen, Jenner jumped up and licked the twins’ faces making them giggle.

“Mommy can we have blueberries with them?” Lily asked.

“Of course you can.” Victoria smiled.

“Daddy let’s us have syrup as well.” Luke said.

“Luke! That was meant to be a secret!” Lily cried.

“Does he? Well I’ll be having words with Daddy.” Victoria pretended to be stern.

“Don’t be angry with Daddy Mommy. He was being kind.” Lily looked up at Victoria.

Victoria crouched down so she was at her height. “I can’t stay mad at Daddy for too long.”

The twins giggled and Victoria dished them up their pancakes, which they ate at lightning speed.

“Can we go watch a film now?” Luke asked.

“No Luke we have to get dressed and brush our teeth, right Mommy?” Lily sternly told Luke.

“Actually Mommy has decided we can have a pyjama day today, but you do need to brush your teeth.” Victoria said.

The twins raced upstairs and quickly brushed their teeth before they hurried back downstairs.

“What film do you want to watch?” Victoria asked.

“The Lion King!” The twins excitedly said. Victoria chuckled as she put the DVD into the player.

Victoria sat in-between the kids who snuggled up against her. As the film played, Victoria phone pinged, it was a message from Ethan.

How are you doing?

Smiling Victoria replied all okay, watching the Lion King for the millionth time.

I usually watch that with them, guess they’re missing me.

They’re not the only ones.

“Who are you texting Mommy?” Luke asked noticing Victoria was looking at her phone.

“Daddy. He wants to know if you two are ok.”

“We are! But tell him I miss him.” Lily said.

“I will sweetheart.”

The twins continued watching the film as Victoria text Ethan. Has the conference started?

It didn’t take long for a reply. In 5 minutes, are the kids behaving?

Victoria laughed a little as she text back. They are, and they miss you a lot.

The three little dots appeared at the bottom of the screen before Ethan’s message popped up. I miss them too. And you as well.

Victoria’s heart swelled at the comment. She knew Ethan wouldn’t be away for long but she missed him terribly nonetheless.

Luke and Lily continued to cuddle up against Victorias side as the film played out. The last time Ethan went away they weren’t old enough to realise but Victoria definitely noticed a change in mood between them and the minute Ethan walked through the front door, their tiny faces lit up.

Victoria knew they would have the same reaction when they reunited with Ethan on Monday.

— — — — —

Sunday soon rolled around and Victoria was currently reading a medical journal as Luke and Lily played with their toys.

“Make way for Captain Destroyer as he captures the Barbie palace!” Luke enthusiastically said as he crashed his action man into Lily’s Barbie palace.

“No! My Barbies! What did they do?” Lily hugged her Barbies to her chest to protect them.

“They’re mine now!” Luke went to grab them.

“No! Mommy!” Lily looked at Victoria.

“Luke leave her alone.” Victoria looked up from her book.

“But-“

“I’d think carefully about what you’re about to say.” Victoria said sternly.

Luke huffed and threw his toy onto the floor. “I’m bored.”

“I know. How about we build a fort? I used to make them all the time with Uncle Will and Auntie Sarah.”

“Yeah!” The twins jumped up.

“Okay. The first essential for a great fort is blankets. Can you go find some for me?” Victoria asked.

The twins eagerly ran out the room and up the stairs as Victoria took some of the cushions from the sofa and moved some of the furniture so it was closer together. The last time she has made a fort was when she was a kid. She had forgotten how fun it was.

“We’ve got them!” Lily said running back into the living room.

“Where’s Luke?” Victoria asked, noticing the young boy wasn’t with his sister.

“I’m under here!” A muffled voice said. Victoria pulled the blankets off him chuckling.

“Why don’t you put them under there and I’ll grab some fairy lights.”

Victoria headed upstairs to one of the spare bedrooms and found some old battery operated fairy lights. She brought them downstairs and hung them around the fort so there was more light.

“Wow it looks so cool!” Lily said looking round.

“Are these the kind of forts you built with Uncle Will and Auntie Sarah Mommy?” Luke asked.

“Yes. We used to build forts all the time as kids. Although Uncle Will didn’t like it when we brought lots of pink things in there.” Victoria laughed.

“Have you and Daddy ever made a fort together?” Lily asked.

“Ah well, I’ve always tried to persuade Daddy but so far I haven’t been able to. Maybe the three of us can persuade him one day.”

“How did you and Daddy meet Mommy?” Luke said cuddling up against Victorias side, Lily doing the same.

“I met him when I first started working. Although he didn’t really like me at first.” Victoria put her arms around her children.

“Why not?”

“He thought I was annoying and I thought he was very grumpy.” Victoria said which made them giggle.

“But Daddy is always so funny.” Luke said looking bewildered as if his Dad could be anything but fun.

“That’s because you two are his angels and he always saves his best features for us three.” Victoria tickled them making them laugh. “I know. Shall we take a picture and send it to Daddy?”

“Yeah!”

Victoria grabbed her phone and held it up. “Say cheese!”

“Cheese!” The twins grinned.

Victoria looked at the photo. “What do you think?”

“Great!” The twins beamed. Victoria sent the photo.

“How about I get started making the spaghetti?”

“Yes!”

Victoria chuckled as she headed out into the kitchen, As she put a pan of water on to boil her phone lit up with a notification.

Wishing I was with you x

— — — — —

Much later on in the day, the twins were fed and bathed and were in their pyjamas watching TV.

“Look who’s calling.” Victoria said holding her phone up in front of the twins. Their eyes lit up when they saw Ethans name.

“Daddy!” They cried when Victoria accepted the call and Ethan’s face popped up on the screen.

“Hi guys! How are you?” Ethan smiled.

“We’re good. Mommy helped us build a fort and then we ate spaghetti!” Luke said.

“I see. And how is Mommy?” Ethan chuckled.

“Mommy’s fine.” Victoria smiled.

“We miss you Daddy.” Lily said in a quiet voice as she cuddled her teddy.

“I miss you too sweetheart. I wish I was with you.” Ethan smiled.

“You’ll see Daddy tomorrow night Lil.” Victoria cuddled her.

“Daddy are you having a good time?” Luke asked.

Ethan laughed at that. “As good as can be.” He then went on to explain everything he had been doing even though Victoria could tell he was exaggerating. However, that didn’t matter when she saw the excited look on her children’s faces.

Victoria could tell the twins were getting tired so she suggested ending the call, promising them Daddy would be home tomorrow night. She carried them to bed, gently kissing them on their foreheads.

“Wait.” Luke suddenly said as Victoria was about to shut his bedroom door. She watched him get out of bed and head to his dresser and pull out a framed photo. On closer inspection, she realised it was a framed photo of them as a family.

“Why have you got that?” Victoria asked.

“So I don’t miss Daddy too much. And so he doesn’t get lonely.” Luke snuggled against the picture.

Victoria’s throat became thick with emotion and she felt tears forming in her eyes. Blinking them away she quietly crept out the room and once she shut the door, she let the tears fall.

It was remarkable to see how grown up the twins were. Naturally they were sad, Victoria wasn’t expecting anything less and some of the time, she knew the smiles were hiding that they were missing Ethan. But they had been so mature over the last few days and Victoria was proud of them.

She knew she was raising them well.

— — — — —

After another day of parks, food and endless amount of cuddles, Victoria, Luke and Lily were in the car on their way to the airport to pick up Ethan. Ethan’s flight got in at 8 and Victoria made sure she left with enough time to spare. The twins were in their pyjamas, Victoria deciding they could win that battle but were wrapped up in their coats.

Luke and Lily were so excited that Ethan was coming home today. In the morning, they went out and bought some of Ethan’s favourite foods, the twins made him a welcome home card for him to see when they arrived back. They managed to tire themselves out at the park in the afternoon, Luke even went down for a nap but Lily refused (‘If I fall asleep Mommy I’ll miss seeing Daddy so I have to stay awake.’)

5 minutes before they arrived at the airport, Lily had begun to doze off.

“Go to sleep Lil.” Victoria said as she pulled into the airport carpark.

“But Daddy…” Lily yawned as she shut her eyes.

“Will be here when you wake up.” Victoria said smiling at her. She pulled into an empty space and got out the car, heading to Luke’s side first helping him out of the car then gently lifting Lily out of the car, pulling her close as the little girl laid her head on her mothers shoulder.

“Can we go now Mommy?” Luke asked tugging on her hand.

“Yes, hold my hand.” Victoria said, Luke obeyed immediately.

The family walked through the airport, heading to the board where the arrivals were updated.

“Can you see Daddy’s plane number?” Victoria asked Luke as the young boy looked up at the board.

“No. Where is it?” Luke said.

“I can. It says it’s arrived.” Victoria pointed up at the screen.

“Does that mean Daddy’s home?” Luke’s eyes lit up.

“Yes sweetheart Daddy’s home.” Victoria smiled.

The family moved towards where the arrivals would filter out. The automatic doors kept opening and closing, passengers reuniting with loved ones.

“He’s not coming!” Luke said looking up at Victoria.

“He will, you just need to be patient.” Victoria ruffled his hair, glancing at Lily who was still fast asleep in her arms.

More and more people walked out until Victoria saw the one face she had been waiting for. Luke had seen him too.

“Daddy!” Luke ran to Ethan, the latter knelt down to greet his son, pulling him into a tight hug. Victoria couldn’t make out what they were saying to each other but her heart swelled at the reunion.

Holding Luke’s hand in one and pulling his suitcase in the other, Ethan made his way over to Victoria.

“Someone tried desperately to stay awake all day but inevitably fell asleep.” Victoria chuckled gesturing to the sleeping Lily.

“I don’t mind She’ll have the best reaction when she wakes up.” Ethan smiled pressing a short kiss to Lily’s head then pressed his lips to Victoria’s.

“Good to be home?”

“Definitely.” Ethan replied. He picked Luke up and with suitcase in hand, the family made their way out of the airport. “Pass me the keys.” Ethan said once they had reached the car.

“Are you sure? I don’t mind driving.” Victoria asked.

“I want to. It’s the least I can do.” Ethan smiled.

Victoria didn’t argue with that. She put Lily in her carseat then climbed into the front. Ethan’s hand found hers, lacing their fingers together.

“So tell me. How boring was the conference?” Victoria grinned as Ethan found the interstate.

“Almost as boring as all the other ones. I certainly won’t be going to anymore anytime soon.” Ethan chuckled.

“I’m glad. We’ve missed you. They’ve been good as gold though.” Victoria smiled as she looked behind her. Luke had also fallen asleep.

“I knew they would. And it wouldn’t be a trip away if I didn’t have a present to bring back.”

“Another piece of memorabilia.”

“Of course.” Ethan laughed. “It’s good to be home though. My place is right here.” Ethan squeezed Victoria’s hand.

Smiling, Victoria relaxed back in her seat as Ethan drove their family back home where they belonged.

— — — — —

I have all the feels after writing that 🥺🥰

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orionsangel86 · 4 years ago

Text

The first Valentines Day they spent together wasn’t great. Taking out a horseman of the apocalypse and consuming an obscene amount of red meat wasn’t exactly a great start for a whirlwind romance. But Dean still remembers the butterflies he got in his stomach when Cas stood too close, or held his gaze for slightly too long.

The Valentines Day’s that came after that were mostly painful, or just another day that Dean wanted to forget:

- Handing Lisa a crumpled gas station valentines day card and a bunch of flowers that had already seen better days.

- Drowning in grief at the loss of Cas and Bobby.

- Hiding in the dark of Purgatory, trading rough hand jobs with Benny, and sending Cas tearful prayers, wishing he’d come back.

- Comforting a scared girl being chased by Hellhounds, wishing his angel would answer his prayers yet again.

- He doesn’t recall specific days whilst he had the mark of Cain.

He remembers the valentines day whilst under the pull of Amara, pining for something both frightening and unnatural, knowing deep down he was longing for something else, something that he thought he could never have.

The valentines day the year after reuniting Amara and Chuck, he had only been out of solitary confinement a few weeks, Cas was there, in the Bunker with him. But he was stubborn and angry at Cas for putting himself in danger. Dean had been giving him the silent treatment the whole time, but God, does he remember wishing Cas would come to him. Cas never did.

So much had happened in the year that followed that one. Cas had died, and returned to him, they had found Jack, and lost him to an alternate world. Even with all that had happened, Valentine Day that year was one of his favourites in recent memory. Dean had shyly invitied Cas for a movie marathon in his room. They had put on a Scooby Doo episode whilst making popcorn, and Cas had teased him for his “ascot phase” that had lasted only a few weeks. Dean still thinks he looked awesome though. They had curled up on Dean’s bed, eating popcorn and watching old horror movies. Dean had fallen asleep on Cas’s shoulder, and woke up on the morning of February 15th with his arms wrapped around Cas’s waist, and his face buried in his side. They were both smiling that morning, but neither had mentioned it again. Dean wishes they had.

The following year things had gone wrong again. Dean was too preoccupied trying to keep Michael at bay in his mind to even think about Valentines Day.

Last year on Valentines Day he was full of rage. Still hurting over all the crap that had happened. Chuck controlling their lives, being mad at Cas, Cas leaving and only returning to help the fight. He was terrified that Cas was just another part of Chuck’s story, another way to manipulate him. But Cas turned out to be one of the only things in the universe that Chuck wasn’t able to control. The one thing Dean had wanted most was the only thing that was truly real in his entire life. The thought still took his breath away. He wished he had known that at the time.

This Valentines Day, Dean was feeling high on happiness and love. Another year where too much had happened, but Dean and Cas decided that they had wasted enough time. Too many years had passed where they couldn’t be together, now they were finally free, finally able to make their own story, and they had chosen each other.

Just over three months ago Cas had confessed his love, and been ripped away from Dean once again before he had even had a chance to process what had happened. Defeating Chuck, and finally freeing themselves from his story had come at a terrible price, but luckily Dean’s adopted son was God now, and this time the deus ex machina was just what he needed.

Dean had wasted no time in finally letting his heart speak. Sobbing confessions of everlasting love into Cas’s lips, his neck, his cheeks, his chest. It had all happened pretty quickly after that. Jack had fixed everything, and Dean and Sam could finally retire.

The wedding wasn’t even their idea. Sam had blurted it out one day that they should hold some sort of ceremony as a final fuck you to all the forces of Heaven and Hell and beyond that had tried to separate them over the years. From the most powerful Gods, right down to the nasty little men in expensive suits who didn’t appreciate their love for one another. Eventually Dean had whispered the words to Cas one night, whilst they were still naked, sweaty, and wrapped around each other, gasping for breath. Marry Me just slipped off his tongue, and had got him a tearful yes and another four orgasms before the night was over.

So the valentines day “fuck you” ceremony became “Dean and Cas’s wedding day” and here they were. Exchanging vowels in front of their whole family. Even Crowley miraculously showed up which put Dean on edge for all of 10 minutes before the former King of Hell smiled and raised a fruity cocktail in his direction.

Their first dance was to “All My Love” by Led Zeppelin. Because of course it was. In the dim lights of the dance floor, pressed close to Castiel’s solid form, cheek brushing cheek, breathing in the scent of him, Dean was in the only Heaven that mattered. Right here on Earth. Real Heaven could wait until he was ready to go, which wouldn’t happen until he was old and wrinkly and his hair was grey (but still fabulous and not at all looking like a party city wig).

Once the stragglers had finally left the reception, or past out in the corner, Dean and Cas slipped away to the wedding suite, and drunkenly made love until long after midnight. It was by far, the best day of Dean’s life, let along the best Valentines Day of the past 12 years.

It’s the morning of the 15th February. Dean is lying in bed, on his back, with his new husband wrapped around him like an octopus. He thinks of all the valentines days of the past 12 years, and then forgets them, and thinks of the ones to come.

Next year he will spend the entire day in bed with his husband. Maybe he’ll get up long enough to make pancakes to bring Cas breakfast in bed. Maybe he’ll slip on some anniversary/valentines day panties. He thinks Cas may be into that.

In five years time he’ll spend their anniversary/Valentines day in their home by a beach - the one he plans to build himself. They’ll sit under the stars and listen to the ocean crash into the shore, wrapped in a huge blanket and whisper sweet nothings into each others ears.

In twenty years time, they’ll celebrate with their family. Perhaps he’ll throw Cas a party. He can picture Jack and Claire grown up with their own families, and Sam and Eileen with their own children, also grown by that point, and ready to move on to college and beyond. He sees a future full of love, and happiness, and peace. A future he has chosen for himself. A future where he is truly free to live the life he wants.

In the end, it doesn’t matter if they make anniversary/valentines day plans in the future or not, so long as they are together, so long as he gets this. So long as Cas remains in his arms. So long as he gets to kiss his husbands handsome face and see the love and happiness in his eyes. So long as from now on, nothing, not Darkness, Hell, Heaven, or even Death can separate them. After all, past experience has proven that they never succeeded before. Dean and Cas will always find their way back to each other.

#destiel #deancas #destiel wedding #deancas wedding #happy valentines day destiel #destiel fic #destiel valentines day fic #this is canon okay #my fic

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avengersassemble-fics · 4 years ago

Text

Stark’s Girl

part 014/015 “one more time, captain”

previous part // next part

masterlist

word count 3.9k

an: this part does include dialogue from avengers endgame, which is not my work nor do i claim it to be!

It’s been five years since the Blip. You had been back by Natasha’s side for almost six months now, and she was grateful for every moment. There were days where she would break down (which until recently was unheard of) and you would be there by her side. And she had done what she could to help you out with your trauma. Before you accepted her offer of coming back, she had put two and two together when she recognized the faces on the news to the faces that had adorned a spare room in that house of yours in Ransdorp. Natasha had a past of her own, no doubt about that, so she could relate to how you had felt when you admitted on your own time what you had been up to those few years after Siberia.

It wasn’t an easy conversation, at one point you had broken down into sobs and reminded her a lot of herself when she had taken some time after a mission gone wrong years back. She mostly understood the shame that coursed through you, but one thing she made you understand was what HYDRA had done, the things you did because of them, wasn’t your fault. Natasha also made sure to tell you the blackouts weren’t your fault either, and she understood why you did what you had done. Although it was trauma you would have to live with, she knew the feeling better than most of losing your years to programs like that.

All of this was to say that both women had a newfound respect and understanding of one another. It became easier to work alongside one another, being able to almost anticipate one’s actions and decisions as they occurred. No one had seemed to really get Nat like that since Barton.. Which was why she was so hell bent on tracking him down.

Natasha had come to the realization about a year ago that Barton had gone off the radar because his family was among those they lost. When bodies started piling up (not due to your hands) and some of the known details were faint signatures of Barton’s handiwork.. Nat made it her mission to find him. Because this was not him. And although he was taking down some questionable people, they weren’t responsible for Thanos.

“Listen fur-face,” Carol Danvers threw out that regained Nat’s attention. “I’m covering a lot of territory. The things that are happening on Earth are happening everywhere, on thousands of planets.”

“All right all right, that’s a good point,” Rocket remarked. Nat stole a glance your way to which you only offered a shrug as Carol continued.

“So.. You might not see me for a long time,” she redirected towards Nat. Natasha nodded her head and leaned forward on the desk she sat behind.

“Alright.. Well this channel is always active. If anything goes sideways, anyone’s making trouble where they shouldn’t, it comes through me.”

Everyone agreed and one by one the holograms disappeared. You took a seat in front of the desk, and Nat redirected her attention to Rhodes. “Where are you?

“Mexico,” Rhodes answered. “The Federales found a room full of bodies, looks like a bunch of cartel guys. They never even had a chance to get their guns off.”

Nat shrugged her shoulders and sat back in her seat. “Probably a rival gang.”

“Except it isn’t,” Rhodes countered. Natasha’s eyes shift, and your gaze shoots up at her. “It’s definitely Barton.. What he’s done here, what he’s been doing the last few years.. Nat, the scene he left?.. I gotta tell you, a part of me doesn’t want to find him.”

Natasha grabbed the sand which she had prepared just earlier and bit a piece off. She just needed to focus on something other than what Rhodes was telling her, she didn’t need anyone to see her cry right now. “Will you find out where he’s going next?”

“Nat,” Rhodes tried to warn.

“Please,” Natasha pleaded. You glanced Rhodey’s way and he met your eyes. You offered a grim look, and he sighed.

“Okay.”

And with that Rhodey’s comm broke off too. You watched as Nat placed the sandwich back down and sighed deeply, all before her face began to scrunch up into a sob. You were quick out of your seat and moved around the desk and kneeled by her side. “Nat.. Nat we’re gonna find him.”

“I just don’t know why he couldn’t come to me,” she sniffled and rubbed at her eyes. “I know this must be hard for him, losing Laura and the kids, but he could’ve come to me.”

You reached your hand out to rub her shoulder and let out a small sigh. “Sometimes it’s hard to let those you care about see in you in those dark places.”

Nat finished rubbing under her eyes and grabbed the sandwich off her plate again with her other hand. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding the talk with Steve?”

You bit back the smile and stood. She had done what she did best, diverted the conversation from herself to something else. “You’re still on about that?”

“Oh come on, I’ve seen the way you look at one another,” Natasha prodded as you went to gather your things. “How much longer are you going to wait to be happy?”

The question made you pause, and before you could respond Nat perked up at something behind you. You glanced over your shoulder and was met with none other than Steve Rogers, hands in his pockets, and with a small smile on his face.

“Speak of the devil,” Natasha joked. Your gaze immediately went back to her and you gave her your best glare, while Steve raised his brow at her. They were so easy to mess with, she thought. “Here to do your laundry?”

“And to see some friends,” Steve replied. You held your things closer to your chest as Steve came further into the room.

“I’m actually getting ready to leave for Tony’s,” you threw out there. “I promised to go see my favorite niece.”

“Are you going to be okay making the drive this late at night?” Steve asked. Natasha rolled her eyes to herself and took a hefty bite of her sandwich. If she had to watch another pining episode she was going to make sure you two never heard the end of it. You, on the other hand, smiled at his sentiment.

“Oh I think I can manage,” you told him. You offered your farewells, and started back to your room to grab your bag and head out. Steve watched you leave before looking back at Nat who was waving him off.

“Meet me in the kitchen, I need a drink,” she told him, and took her sandwich with her towards the kitchen area. Steve chuckled lightly, and followed in your steps to the residence area. He was just catching you outside your room, and he took a deep breath and pulled something out of his pocket, clutching it in his fist. You heard him approach and looked his way, shutting your door and offering a smile.

“Hey,” you managed before Steve got up to you, and his serious expression made your smile fall. “Are you okay..?”

“Seven years ago I asked you if one day you’d want to get away from all of this,” Steve started. You remembered the conversation far too well, and immediately shut your mouth in a tight expression. A heaviness filled your chest, but you tried your best to ignore it. “From this life where we were needing to be more than just us… Do you remember?”

“Yes-”

“I told you that I would wait for you, no matter how long it took, no matter what happened, because.. Because you have been the best thing to happen to me since I came out of the ice. You taught me how to live again,” Steve continued.

“Steve,” you whispered, but he kept going.

“I love you,” he admitted, finally looking into your eyes. They were darker than usual, and you could see he meant it. “I couldn’t go another day without telling you. Because.. You feel like home.”

Steve grabbed a hold of your hands, and you watched as he placed something into your palms. He retracted his hold on you and your fingers curled over the soft velvety box in your hand. You looked up at him with curious eyes, and slowly used your thumb to open the box and let out a small gasp.

“Steve,” you whispered, staring down at the contents.

“It was my moms.. SHIELD saved it when I went into the ice,” Steve explained. You carefully ran your finger over the gold banded ring that practically shined up at you. You hadn’t seen a more beautiful piece of jewelry, and did your best to fight back the tears. “I’m not expecting an answer.. But I just wanted you to see that I meant it. It was always meant for you anyway.. Maybe we still have a shot at that normal life.”

Your gaze went back up to his, and he smiled softly at you. You were speechless as one of his hands grabbed onto your arm and he leaned down to press a chaste kiss to your forehead. And then you watched him take a couple steps back, before he turned around and went back the direction you both had just come.

You were shocked, which even then felt like an understatement. Steve just.. Proposed. Inadvertently? Well it was purposeful, and if Natasha knew about it you were going to kill her for not saying anything. It took you a while to reclose the box and carefully place it into a pocket in your bag, it was delicate and you wanted to take care of it.

And well.. It certainly kept your mind occupied on your drive to Tony’s cabin.

Tony had left your room untouched for the most part, which was a welcomed thing to come into. You weren’t up for too long, forcing Tony to go to bed, but you did spend some time scrolling through your phone. Steve was right when he had said he wasn’t expecting an answer right away, you half expected a message of some sort but things seemed relatively quiet from his end. It was harder to fall asleep that night, you found yourself drifting off to what would happen if you said yes.

You’d want to move somewhere quiet, like what Tony did. That would give you a chance to refocus yourself.. Would that even be something Steve would be open to doing?.. Could he get you the same help he had gotten Barnes (Natasha said he felt at peace for once)? Hell, if they could just wipe out any lingering thoughts of Hydra you’d never have another problem in your life.

What’s more.. If you said no would this be what you life is like? Alone, and longing for the maybe’s that could have been? Which was better? Risk getting involved again, or risk never having that connection to someone again? It wasn’t the ideal question to fall asleep to.

When morning broke and sunlight peeked through the blinds, you woke up and found yourself sitting among the sheets and staring at the open box in your hands. The diamond that sat in the middle and gleamed in the sunlight made you sigh, it felt as if it was screaming at you that you knew what you wanted to tell him.

Did you?

You snapped the box closed and hid it in a drawer beside the bed and decided to change into something other than sweatpants for the day. After finishing and bounding down the stairs you ended up behind your favorite little niece, and scooped her up into a bear hug from behind. “There’s my little sleeping beauty!”

“She couldn’t wait to see her favorite aunt today,” Pepper remarked from the kitchen amongst the giggles that erupted from her daughter. You peppered kisses on Morgan’s head, and Pepper turned around as she was drying what you assumed was breakfast dishes. “Tony barely had to tuck her in before she was out.”

You set Morgan back down on the ground and she went back to messing with a toy on the breakfast table. You ruffled her hair and went to grab a cup of coffee before resting your hip against the counter besides Pepper. “How has he been?”

“A little stir crazy,” Pepper admitted to which you nodded lightly and sipped at your warm mug. “He put up this picture of the kid and I catch him getting lost looking at it.”

“And how have you been?” You asked. Pepper glanced your way and smiled.

“Hoping one day he’ll finally rest his mind.”

Eventually, you brought Morgan outside who immediately ran towards her tent and disappeared inside. You went towards the shed with an open door, and leaned against the frame, taking in the sight of Tony wielding what you could make out was a helmet. “Work never stops for you, does it?”

Tony glanced over his shoulder and waved you in, which you accepted. You came up behind him and gripped his shoulders and gave him a squeeze. “You’re supposed to be retired, old man.”

“It’s just a little project,” Tony tried to assure you. You couldn’t help but scoff, and pointed your thumb to a corner of the room.

“Says the one who built me a new suit last year,” you teased. Tony used one hand to back hand your side playfully and you laughed. You stood beside him now, and grabbed a picture frame sitting on the shelf over where he worked. It was a picture of the two of you when you were younger, barely big enough to fit the frame, and slightly discolored. You ran your hand over the front before putting the frame back and rubbing your hands together. “Can I talk to you about something..?”

“Anything, kid,” Tony said, overly engrossed in the task in front of him. You took a deep breath and shrugged your shoulders, not that he could even see you.

“When did you know that.. Well that you didn’t want to wait anymore? To start a family?”

Tony immediately stopped what he was working on, taking off a pair of clear protective glasses and setting his tool down. When he turned to face you and rest his elbow on the table, he tilted his head and scrunched his brows. “Excuse me?”

“Come on Tony, I’m being serious,” you told him.

“Yeah well so am I!” Tony exclaimed and stood. You watched as he stood from his stool and started to pace back and forth. You crossed your arms and huffed. He was acting like such a child! As if he could read your thoughts he stopped and pointed a finger at you. “It’s Steve isn’t it? Is he pressuring you or something?”

“What? No! Why would you even think that-”

“Because he’s hard headed and doesn’t know when to stop,” Tony said, cutting you off. You shook your head and scoffed.

“Tony please, this isn’t about you two-”

“I told him if he messes with your feelings again.. I swear when I get a hold of him,” Tony started pacing again and you rolled your eyes and started towards him. “He has some nerve-”

“Tony,” you stopped him dead in his tracks and made him face you, finally getting a hold of his gaze. “He didn’t do anything to me, okay? If anything.. He’s been trying to make up to me what happened.”

Tony sighed and his expression softened, but you shrugged. “I know he lied to us about knowing what happened to mom and dad… But you always told me that I wasn’t what Hydra made me, that what I did wasn’t me but them… Tony, why is Barnes so different?”

“Steve lied to us,” Tony said in a low tone. “He lied to protect his friend but what about us, huh? We weren’t his friends? We didn’t deserve to know the truth?”

“He handled it wrong Tony, I know. I’m just saying does that outweigh all the good he did for us,” you offered. Tony sighed and looked away for a moment as if annoyed. You grabbed a hold of his hand and it forced him to look back at you. “He’s trying.. And you told me that sometimes just trying was a good start.”

Tony sighed and raised a brow at you. “I hate it when you throw things back in my face like that.”

You chuckled and Tony used his free hand to cover the hand holding his. “Look I’m still iffy on the idea but.. If Rogers is who you want to be with then who am I to stop it? I’m a family man now anyway, I have bigger fish to fry.”

And with that his phone buzzed in his pocket, and while he fished it out you laughed little. “She’s turning out too much like you.”

“Scares me to death everyday,” Tony replied while checking the message from Pepper. “Time to feed the munchkin anyway, we can continue this talk later when I’ve had a couple drinks.”

Tony and you walked side by side to Morgan’s play tent, and after finally getting her out. Tony whisked her up when you felt your phone buzz, and you pulled it out to see a notification from Natasha. It was weird, she normally didn’t bother you when you were with Tony, she always said to focus on family time. You fell back a few steps and read her message.

Nat: Heads up, you got incoming.

“Incoming?” You muttered to yourself as you came up the steps behind Tony. You nearly knocked into him. You followed his gaze to the car coming to a stop in front of his cabin, and watched Steve, Natasha, and someone else get out. Steve’s expression was serious, hell all of theirs were and Tony didn’t look amused. Natasha offered a nod to Tony and he turned to you, and you took Morgan from him with a smile. “Let’s go see mom, hm?”

You quietly walked inside and set Morgan at the table and met Pepper’s look before she returned to watching out the window. You ruffled Morgan’s hair and returned back outside, the screen door thumping closed behind you. The three visitors started up the stairs as you rejoined Tony’s side.

“Sorry for dropping in unannounced,” Steve offered. Tony glanced your way with a look. You could only shrug. What? You didn’t know they were coming. But if they did then.. Something was up.

“We have something though that we think might work.. To get everyone back,” Natasha said. Your breath hitched, and when you looked over at Tony there was a hint of something in his eyes. The third person stepped forward and nodded at the both of you.

“Have you two heard of the Quantum Realm?”

It was.. A long explanation. Everyone was gathered in a circle at this point, and in all honesty you had a hard time following along. There were stolen glances between you and Steve, and each time a feeling grew in the pit of your stomach. But you forced yourself to pay attention because this was big.. Could it work though?

“Now, we know what this sounds like,” Scott had finished up before Steve cut in.

“Tony, after everything you’ve seen, is anything really impossible?” He asked. Tony was looking out to the lake near his home but when addressed he looked back at the group and gripped onto the railing.

“Quantum fluctuation messes with the Planck Scale, which then triggers the Deutsch Proposition. Can we agree on that?” Tony asked. You glanced at everyone else and cleared your throat.

“Maybe for those of us not fluent in quantum mechanics, Tony?” You asked. Tony sighed and tapped his fingers on the wood.

“In layman’s terms, it means you’re not coming home,” was all he offered.

“But I did,” Scott offered. Tony shook his head at that.

“No, you accidentally survived,” Tony corrected. “It's a billion to one cosmic fluke. And now you wanna pull off a... What do you call it?”

Scott cleared his throat. “A time heist..?”

Tony scoffed in a joking manner and rubbed his forehead. “Yeah, a time heist. Of course, why didn't we think of this before?”

“The Stones are in the past. We can go back and get them,” Scott tried to reason.

“We can snap our own fingers. We can bring everyone back,” Natasha chimed in.

“Or screw it up worse than he already has, right?” Tony asked. Steve shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t believe we would,” Steve said.

“Gotta say, sometimes I miss that giddy optimism,” Tony said in a sarcastic tone. Everyone went back and forth for a while. Tony shot down every claim, and the rest tried to tell him there’s always a chance. The back and forth didn’t stop until the screen door was pushed open and Morgan came up to Tony’s side.

“Mommy told me to come and save you,” she said. You couldn’t help but smile and cross your arms. Tony picked her up and pat her back.

“Good job, I’m saved,” he reassured her. He refocused on the group and offered a shrug. “I wish you'd come here to ask me something else. Anything else. Honestly, I... I missed you guys, it was... Oh, and table's set for seven.”

.”Tony, I get it. And I'm happy for you, I really am. But this is a second chance,” Steve tried again, but Tony shook his head.

“I got my second chance right here,” Tony told him. You could see Steve accept his denial and then met Tony’s gaze. “I can’t roll the dice again.”

Tony excused himself and the porch fell silent. You watched him disappear into the house and looked back at the group in front of you. No one knew what to say, but Natasha was the first to speak. “Sorry for interrupting your weekend.”

“Well when you have a hell of a plan like that I don’t expect you to wait normal business hours,” you replied. Natasha sadly smiled and you sighed. “Tony has everything he’s ever wanted.. I don’t know if I can sweet talk him into helping.”

“We know,” Steve offered and gave a sad smile. “We just wanna do it right.”

“Tony may not be on board but.. If there’s a chance? I’m in,” you offered. Nat reached out and pat your shoulder and as if knowingly, she turned around and pulled Scott with her. You took a couple steps towards Steve and he straightened up a bit. “Nice to see you back, Cap.”

“One last mission,” Steve whispered. You smiled and looked behind him at the car he had come in and Natasha smirked at you. You met Steve’s gaze again and slowly lifted her young to rest on his cheek. On your tiptoes and with the sun basking in the sky, you leaned up and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. Steve had leaned into your touch, his lips pressing against yours as if it would be the last. After a couple seconds you pulled away and you both lingered close.

“Go save the world one more time, Captain.”

- - - - - - - - - -

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