You, sweating: John Doe, there’s something I need to ask you-
John Doe: Finally! You’re proposing!
You: How’d you know?
John Doe: You, you’ve dropped the ring five times during dinner.
John Doe: I even picked it up once.
Ethan Landry x GN!Reader
Masterlist if you want to read my other things.
TW/CW: murder, breaking in, voyeurism, sexual activity(it don't go far), no p in v(they're not even naked).
it's good i guess. i feel like the end is weird though. (18/07/2023) (3614 words)
Ethan sighs deeply, already feeling the frustration tears drowning his eyes. Even though his vision was blurry, he could still see your shape, of course he could, you're the only thing he could ever see. His hand was closed thight on the handle of his knife. He couldn't believe you, and at the same, he couldn't blame you as you could never do harm, not to him.
He knew your relationship was hard to maintain, but did you really have to cheat on him ? Yes, you did not talk much together, ok you did not spend time on a date in a long time but it was hard, he was busy and you were always with your friends.
The last date you had only together was something like three month ago, it was a study date. You weren't in a good mood, either. You wanted to be in your friends group but they already formed duo and as the group is uneven, you ended up with him. You weren't too happy and he knew it, so he did what he could to help you. You spent the afternoon in the library. He was so happy that day, quite the opposite of right now.
He was biting the inside of his cheek to contain any insults to come out. As much as he liked seeing you like this, he hated the situation in itself.
Ethan was fucking pissed. Hidden in your closet, his dark eyes were watching each one of your movements. Usually, the smell of your fresh and clean clothes beside him would have calmed him to a state of sleepiness. But not today.
You brought someone over.
One of his friends by that. Well, not that much of a friend. Ethan doesn't really have any, his only goal is to avenge his brother after all. None of his relationship here are true.
Expect yours. The one you and him have. It's something indescribable. A link that goes upon everything, every law and physics. He understands you better than anyone else. You understand him better than everyone else.
Each breath you take is a benediction for Ethan who's the happiest man alive thanks to your existence. It was an addiction, really. Something so hard to forget, to ignore. Ethan was deeply in love. And he's sure you are, too.
You have these eyes that tell him everything he needs to know.
But well, you weren't ready for the officialisation and the whole relationship thing. And he understands that. He truly does. As even himself had trouble accepting his love. Your link is so strong, so powerful that you can be scared of it. Of the love you have for each other. He'd die for you, he'd kill for you.
He'd do anything.
Hence why he was hidden in your closet in his ghostface suit. Because he wanted to protect you. To make you feel safe. Each time he was hiding under your bed, he heard you confess to your friends about how you have trouble sleeping, that you feel watched. And Ethan hates the idea of someone bothering you. And in the blink of an eye, he was already armed and ready to protect you.
And he's sure you feel better ! That is if he doesn't mention the time you put a blanket on the said closet because you were feeling paranoid. Ethan was worried this day, he couldn't see you anymore through the slits.
Ethan watches as the man above you on the bed pull up your shirt to let you appear bare before him. He watches as you kiss him hungrily, your hands caressing every curve of his body and Ethan wants to fucking destroy everything.
Your one night stand's hands are flat on your chest, caressing it with a barely concealed horniness. You already want more, and he seems to think like you.
Your hands goes under his shirt, touching every inch of skin you could. Your nails grazing the area from time to time and he likes it, hard, by the smile he's giving you.
You were going to pull his clothe up above his head when his phone ring. He turns his head a brief moment before you grab his jaw with your hand to make him look at you again.
"Ignore it." you say between two heated breath.
And he did just that. After all, he was as horny as you. He'd never stop anything for a stupid phone call. His tongue lick at yours, his hands pass on your perked nipple. But the phone ring again. The song was louder than your breathy moans, you were starting to get out of the mood. And the phone ring again, again and again. Until your one night stand curse and get off you. He's as frustated as you.
"Fuck, who the hell is that? he says.
The man moves away, grabbing his phone to see who was the person who ruined the mood. You sigh, a little disappointed the moment had been cut short. Finding your room's temperature way too cold in comparison to his warm body.
You're left laying on the bed, staring at the ceiling and regaining your breath.
You don't have that much success with men. The times you fucked can by coumpted with one hand. So yeah, you were pissed to be bothered by a stupid phone call.
You were frustrated. You needed to fuck. This guy wasn't even your friend. He was nice enough and pretty so you went for it. But you didn't feel bad as he was probably thinking the same of you.
-So ? You ask impatiently.
-It's just Ethan. I'll put the phone in mute.
-Who's Ethan ?
-Landry ? One of my friends. He's in our math class ? Anyway, he's a friend."
By your face, he understands that you have no idea who this Ethan Landry may be. And that you don't care. This Ethan was just the fucker who disturbed you, he could go to hell for that matter. He shrugs, smiling when he can now get back to business. His hand roams your hips then go up to caress your tummy. Your hand goes on his shoulder and you pull him to you to kiss him.
The call was already forgotten. The temperature heated up.
His shirt is quickly out of the way, same for his pants and yours. His clothed erection rub against your genitals, you're burning from the inside. You thrust your hips against his and he smiles.
Your hand grab a handful of his hair and pull on it, the man smiles, his mouth leaving yours to start and suck on your neck. The boner in his underwear rub against your underwear. His last piece of clothes was hot and wet. At this point, it felt like he was naked. You could feel every veins and curve of it against you.
Finally, you thought, you're finally getting some dick. You just hope he's good.
Ethan saw fucking red. His hands were shaky. His whole body crumble with rage. His thoughts are full of one thing: fucking destroy him.
He had the audacity to take his lover from him, he had the audacity to fuck them before him, he had the audacity to fucking ignore him ?
No, no that's not possible. No, of course no. Ethan is a man of words. He swore he wouldn't let you slip between his fingers and he fucking won't. Tears fall from his eyes, from anger ? Sadness ? Frustration ? He doesn't know. But he starts laughing.
You both stop moving. The man turn around and stare at the closet before looking at you again, as if to make sure you heard that too.
Everything happened well too quickly for you to understand. You blinked and a man rushed out of the closet, knife in hand. Clothed in a Ghostface outfit. You screamed and tried to back off him, but with a wall behind you, you couldn't go really far.
Ghostface jumps on the bed, knife in the air, and suddenly, he plunges the blade in your fling's body. Blood splatter everywhere. Tears are running down your face and you can't control yourself.
You try to leave and fall off the bed before crawling on the ground to the door. You were still facing him as to be sure he wasn't coming to you. But it didn't seem he was interested by you.
It was as if he didn't even saw you.
Ghostface plunges his knife once, twice, and a lot more time in the already lifeless body with an uncontrollable rage. His hits were fast and angry, he was taking everything out on him. Hitting everywhere he could.
Crying, you try to get up, you fall the first time because of your shaking legs but you're standing seconds later. As silently as possible, you leave the room. You grab your phone and try to open the door but cry harder when it's locked. Your roomate locked it when they left.
Where is the key ? Where is the fucking key ? You don't want to die. You don't want to die ! In your panick, you drop your phone. But in a rush, you don't bother picking it up again.
By the time you found it, Ghostface was done with his prey. He was waiting for you before the door, head tilted. Blood was dripping from his knife and the white color of his mask was almost non existent.
You shake your head, crying your eyes out. The keys tightly held in your hands. You're dead. You're dead and you don't even know what you did to deserve that.
He stays before the door, no budging. He knows this door is your last hope and he's crushing it before your eyes. You try to think of another exit but there is none. You're at the fifth floor, if you jump, you're dead. But maybe it's better than to be killed because you know for sure: Ghostface is going to kill you.
"Please, you beg, I didn't do anything. you shake your head, body trembling like a leaf.
-I know." he says.
It wasn't even a real voice. You'll never know who is your killer. Your heart was probably going to explode at this rate. You couldn't breath, eyes boring into his hands, makig sure he wasn't moving. You were choking on your own saliva, crying each time his head moved a little.
When he takes a step, you squeal and back off, begging and crying, your words were slurred together, you couldn't even understand yourself what you were saying. You don't want to die, not like this. Your vision is blurry by your tears, all you see of him is a black spot with a white point. He's approaching.
"Don't cry, my love. I'm here." he says.
You frown and look at his mask in search of an answer. You couldn't see his facial expression and it was killing you. Who is this ? What do they want ? Why do they act as if they know you? You're scared, you're going to throw up.
"Please, let me live. you beg, one last time.
-I will, love. I will."
When he arrives before you, you close your eyes tightly. Praying this would be quick. But instead of slaughtering you like he did to the other, he puts his arms around you, holding you close to him. He shush you slowly, like you're a clid.
You're tensed, you stopped breathing and you're completly paralyzed. Every one of your muscle is put in pause. You don't dare look at his face, instead, you keep your eyes to the robe.
"Calm down, he says, you're okay. It's just me."
He was calm and you couldn't understand a thing. Who is 'me' ? Why doesn't he kill you when he already killed someone ? Why is he even hugging you ? What's happening ? You need to get out of here. Right, now.
"You're safe with me. Nothing will happen to you." you know his mask, his words, will haunt you until your death.
And when he lets you go, he gives you your phone back. He puts his hand on your head, touching your hair slowly before leaving by the front door.
Your eyes bore holes in the door, terrified at the idea of him coming back. You fall on the ground and vomit everything you could. Bawling your eyes out, you remember the dead man in your bed and call the cops with a shaky hands.
You don't remember much after that. Just that at some point, cops came and escorted you outside. You were alone on the parking building when you saw stretcher-bearer bring the dead body of the poor man in their car.
You stare at your hands, they're shaking and you want to throw up again just thinking about everything. The criminal fled, he killed him and he fled. You burst out in tears again, closing your eyes. A nurse comes talk to you but you can't hear anything. They're guiding you, you just follow.
You're empty. You can't think of aything else than the dead man. He's dead and you're not, why ? That's unfair. You're the one who invited him over. You should have died.
When you recognize a little more your surrondings, you're seated on the edge of the ambulance car with a coat on the shoulder, and now, you wear a pant. Hugging yourself. You don't even know how you got here, nor when. But you don't care. He's dead. He died. What the fuck. He got killed. Someone killed him. Someone was in your fucking closet in the first place. Was it even the first time ?
You know cops will ask you questions and you have no idea what you're supposed to tell them. That the man you were going to fuck had been killed by a ghostface hidden in your damn closet ? Yeah, you'll be put in jail before the end of your story. Your face is so dry, your body is numb. You can't feel anything other than guilt.
Ghostface disappeared, there is no proof of him having been there. From everyone's point of view, you two were alone and you killed him.
He's dead. The only man you ever talked to in months, dies after minutes in your flat. You're cursed. Did you really kill him ? No, no you didn't. You couldn't have known a killer was at home. It's not your fault. It's not your fault, it's not your fault.
Someone walks towards you. You know it's the cops. It's the end. It's the moment where you're wrongfully accused. Your eyes were glued to the ground and shoes enter your field of view. It do not look like cop's legs.
Well, if it is, he's not in service. Because that's a jean you're seeing right now. You follow the member further up to the face. You frown. That's definitely not a cop.
He smiles at you. He's young, maybe your age. He has curly hair and a boyish face. Who is that ?
"Hey, he says. You okay?
Your eyes are red and glossy. You're covered in blood and it's not even yours. You look like you saw a ghost and somehow, you did.
Do you look okay ? Is that really a fucking question ? Because you just witnessed a murder and you almost died yourself. So no, you're not fucking okay.
-Yeah, right. Sorry." He says.
He's not a nurse and he's not a cop. But he's not your friend or family either. Who is he ?
-My name's Ethan. I was a friend of... And it clicks. He's the one who called: Ethan Landry, from your math class.
-Yeah, I know."
Ethan sits next to you on the edge of the car. He smiles lightly. You ask yourself what is he doing here then decide to ignore it. He lost a friend. He raises his hand towards you, searching your eye for peermission to touch you and you shrug. He caresse gently your back to rassure you, to soothe you.
You don't know him but he's nice and you need someone. Everyone is running back and forth, ignoring you. You witnessed a damn murder and nobody bother to stay with you.
You two stayed like this a really long time. At least, in your mind it was long. Ethan tried to approach you more, moving his body. Then, he pulled your head to force you to lay it on his shoulder. But you didn't want to.
So you got up and moved away from him. When you faced him, his eyes were empty. You couldn't see any emotion. No sadness, no fear, no hapiness, no anger, just a void. It made a chill run down your spine.
Fortunaly, two cops arrived. One of them smiled at you, you didn't feel any compassion but he at least had the decency to try unlike the other who simply left without a word. The man tells you to sit down and you do, far from Ethan. Then, when you thought he'd talk to you, he turned to your new 'friend'.
"Ethan, right ? You told my colleague you were their boyfriend?
What ? You look at your said boyfriend and frown? Why would he say that ?
-Yes, I am. And I was a good friend of... He sighs but something in you tells you it's fake. I can't believe he's...
Something isn't right.
-Since the witness, your partner, is in shock and can't talk, we'd like you to share your contact details as we have to convoke you later for your deposition.
Why can't I talk ? Why is Ethan looking at me ? His eyes seems loving at first glance but when you really look into them, there is a sense of threat that reside. He's talking to you without words. He tells you to keep it shut.
-Of course, no problem. he stays silent while grabbing his phone, then lift his eyes and stare at the cops face. Just so you know, they didn't do anything.
-We'll see about that. Says the cop to conclude the interaction.
-Yeah, we'll see." Says 'Ethan' with a clenched jaw.
When the cops leave, you're left alone with him once again. Your hearing is muffled. In the background, a faint siren noise. Blurry stains of red and blue is all you see. The man puts his hand on your thight and you cringe. You try to get away from him, from this stranger.
Frustrated, hot tears start flowing down your face. You don't even cry strictly speaking as you stay silent. You can't feel anything, your body is just reacting to the situation alone. Ethan raises his hand to dry your tears and you back off to avoid him touching you.
Who the hell is this man ? And why is he here ? Telling everyone he's your partner ? Someone is dead for god's sake ! Does he really think it's the best time to joke ?
Other officers arrive towards you. You want to tell them you don't know who that damn man is. You want to scream at them so bad yet you can't. You don't know why but you can't move.
Ethan takes you in his arms. Tightening his hold around you. From the exterior, he looks like a caring boyfriend comforting his partner. But it's not. You don't know him.
Cops don't pay attention to you anymore, simply analyzing the area. You're left alone with him, this 'Ethan'. Is it really his name ? You don't find him as nice as before. Actually, you feel in danger with him. You try to push him but he hold you so thight it hurt.
He lifts you up without a care. You're scared. You don't know who he is nor what he wants, what he'll do. Just like Ghostface.
"Let me go." you cry, with weak and shaky voice as loud as a whisper.
He ignores it. He presses your chest flat against his, shushing you. And you know, you know it's him. You recognize him. You struggle, trying to leave. But he forces, hurting you. You beg, praying someone could come. But even if they did, they'd think you're crazy. Crazy after seeing such a horrible scene. Nobody will believe you.
Your body is shaking, you have trouble breathing and you can't articulate your thoughts. There is so much happening, outside and inside your head.
"Don't cry, my love. I'm here." he says, and you know, you know he said that.
Your tears are flowing freely. You close your eyes, trying to stop them but it's impossible. You're whining, pushing him away with all the sthrenght left in you, which isn't a lot. It's him, it's his fault. He killed him, he's Ghostface. You know it.
"Breath, it's okay.
No it's not. It's the killer, you're stuck with him. He won't ever let you go. He killed him with so much hatred, with so much rage. You're terrified of what he could do to you. He used such a violent manner to do it, too.
You can't even tell how many times this monster stabbed him. It was never ending. He never was satisfied, his fury keeping him from stopping.
You cry, and cry and cry but nobody cares. Maybe it is your fault. Maybe he really got killed because of you. Or maybe you could have helped.
-You're safe with me. Nothing will happen to you."
clicks on you and downloads you as a jpeg and puts you in a zip folder so youre safe and warm btw
Hexteam Modern au part 3
i dont think anything compares to the joy of getting asks on tumblr or getting comments on ao3
its like, wow. human communication thru the internet. except it feels personal. but yknow, in a nice way, not in an invasive way
its like, you CLICKED on MY account and read thru MY posts and cared enough to leave me a personal message. smth so cute abt that
Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: Best Friend!Eddie Munson is more experienced than you and you ask him to help you out.
Word Count: 6.8k
Note: in this fic you and Eddie are both 18 and Eddie hasn’t failed (yet? Maybe in this au he won’t? I want that boy to be happy).
Dedicated to @millenialcatlady and @theoncrayjoy ♥️
Also, as of when I post this at 6pm PT on 7/1 I have yet to watch the final two episodes of the season which have dropped so PLEASE DO NOT SPOIL FOR 24 HOURS AT LEAST LOL.
Warnings: NSFW, drug use, fingering, dirty talk, self-doubt and a lil teenage awkwardness (both are 18 though), PIV sex
~*~
“You ever touch yourself?”
“Excuse the fuck out of me?” Your response comes out as an incredulous chuckle.
You’re sitting on the bed of your best friend Eddie Munson, hand frozen outstretched to take the blunt he was offering you. You look down at the girly magazine in your lap, the one you had just been lazily criticizing him about. A centerfold gazes back up at you teasingly, her abnormally round breasts jutting out without shame as her back arches up from a tacky cheetah skin rug.
“Touch yourself. Do you?” Eddie waves the smoking blunt in your face till you pluck it from his hand. You busy yourself taking a long drag - longer than usual - to buy yourself time. As you hold the smoke in your lungs, Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up. “Easy there, tiger.”
You exhale harshly with a cough, immediately feeling your head begin to rush.
Afficher davantage
Morning routine ☀️
Summary: A follow-up to “A Strange Party!” This is just a mini chapter that basically explains what our mc (aka you!!) does directly after the events of chapter 1.
Character: Klitz/Klitzy
Word Count: ~500
You woke up dazed. You could feel an aching pain in your head, and your legs wobbled as you tried to stand up. You looked around the room trying to recollect your memories. Your eyes fell upon the now messy bed, the navy sheets, sprawled about and wrinkled. Not wanting to be a bad guest, you begun to make the bed, but as you lifted the sheet to straighten it out you noticed something. There was a jacket hidden beneath the covers, it was one of those tan multi-pocketed jackets where you can fit all sorts of knick-knacks. You instantly recognized it.
“Ohhhhhh fuck.” You remembered what had happened. The drinks, dragging Klitz upstairs, listening to him be all nerdy. And you remembered the kiss. A strange feeling washed over you, you were happy, giddy even. But you also felt a little sick to your stomach, what if you had done something to make him feel uncomfortable? I mean he wasn’t here anymore, maybe he left right after you had fallen asleep!
Before you could let your thoughts get the better of you, you heard your name being called from somewhere in the hallway.
“Y/N? You up here?” Your friend yelled, maybe a little too loud. You winced at the sound, your headache still hadn’t gone away. You poked your head out the door.
“I’m here! Are we leaving now?”
“Yeah, Ellis was just about to drive off when I realized you were missing. She’s just starting the car now, lets hurry!” Your friend beckoned, rushing over to you. You looked back into the room.
“Just one sec!” You said making your way over to the bed, “I just have to grab something.” You flung the jacket over your arm, and headed back. You and your friend made your way out into the cold night, Ellis was waiting for you two in the yard.
“Finally you’re here, get in It’s already 2 am,” She shook her head. “This is why I don’t promise to drive people home.”
The car ride home was a blur. You spent it recalling the events of the night. You couldn’t get your mind off of Klitz, it was like your brain had lost all other functions. You didn’t even realize when Ellis pulled up in front of your place.
“This is you Y/N. Y/N?” She waved her hand in front of your face, snapping you out of your daze.
“Oh, yes, thank you Ellis! Sorry again for forcing you to drive me!” You said, rushing out of the car. You wanted to be alone as soon as possible.
As soon as you got upstairs you tossed the jacket down on your bed. You sat down next to it, like it was Klitz himself. And suddenly it hit you. You hadn’t bothered to look for Klitz after you woke up. You had just taken the jacket and left! You lay your head in your hands. How could you have messed up this bad.
“Look on the bright side Y/N,” you said to yourself, “this gives you an excuse to talk to Klitz at school.” You were beginning to look forward to the next day. Planning out what to say in your head, you could feel yourself blushing, excited to see him again.
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: at ralph’s birthday party, you feel the need to apologize for what you’ve done.ralph, meanwhile, has a question to ask you. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: ralph (timewasters, 2017) x fem!reader 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none! cuteness with ralph, maybe kissing? if that’s a warning? 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this is so short i’m sorry but it’s fine (also the surname penbury is courtesy of @mypoisonedvine hehe thanks jd <3)
“Don’t you think you’re a little mean to Ralph sometimes?” you asked, looking down into your glass of champagne. The party was raging all around you, the jazz quartet having moved into some slower songs after the fun of their first song, and Victoria had dragged you to sit and gossip about the “drippy” musician that she planned on asking to dance.
Of course, this wasn’t the first time you had ever posed the question to Victoria. You had known Lady Victoria Penbury since you were in nappies together, and you had known Lord Ralph for just as long— Ralph had a habit of trailing after his twin like a lost puppy, and, while Victoria had always treated her brother as a brother, teasing him and all, since moving into adulthood, her teasing had become more than that.
“What do you mean?” Victoria asked, her pencil-thin eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “He’s Ralph.”
“That doesn’t mean anything,” you said. “You talk over him all the time, you dismiss him constantly; he doesn’t deserve that.”
“And since when do you care?” Victoria asked. “You’ve done it too.”
“I used to,” you corrected her. “And I feel bad about it. But he’s your brother, you should treat him better.”
“Why do you suddenly care about how I talk to Ralph?” Victoria asked.
“Because it’s his birthday too,” you said, gesturing across the room to him. “And he’s sitting all alone over there.”
“If you’re so concerned about him, you go over to him,” Victoria told you, lifting her nose up. “Go apologize for the way we’ve treated him.”
“I was never as bad as you,” you said, gritting your teeth. “At least I act like I actually care about Ralph.”
With that, you got up from the table, gathering your purse in your hand, and you scowled once more at Victoria before taking yourself across the room to where Ralph sat all alone, nursing a glass of champagne. He looked pitiful, although Ralph often looked pitiful, his big eyes wet and owlish and his shoulders slunk in on himself. You knew that Ralph had the capacity to be lively, and seeing him look so forlorn only tugged on your heartstrings.
“Hi,” you said gently, and he looked at you with his doe eyes. God, he really was gorgeous, especially in the multicolored suit jacket that he wore. His hair was slicked back, small fashionable waves sculpted, and you watched his entire demeanor change at the sight of you.
Ralph straightened up, a smile breaking on his face, and he cheered your name. “How are you?” he asked, and he gestured at the empty chair next to him for you to sit. The beads on your dress lightly clacked as you sat, and Ralph looked like he couldn’t wipe the grin off of his face.
“I’m fine,” you mumbled. “How are you, though, Ralph? You look… Sad.”
Ralph shrugged. “I’m merely gathering energy,” he told you. “For the next dance! Would you dance with me?”
“Of course I will,” you told him, but you struggled to swallow. “Ralph, I wanted to come here to say, um… I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Ralph asked, his eyebrows furrowing, much like his sister; for twins, they didn’t look anything alike, but often they had the exact same expressions and mannerisms. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”
“But I have, though,” you protested. “I’m so… I’ve been so mean to you. I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry.”
“You haven’t been mean,” Ralph said. He played with his tie, his fingers lightly stroking the silken fabric, and you sighed heavily. He was anxious and uncomfortable, you could tell, and you reached out and took his hand.
“Yes, I have,” you told him. “I-I’m rude to you all the time, I never listen to you, I feel proper terrible about the way I’ve treated you these past few years. And here we are, your birthday party, and you’re all alone. If I’ve done anything to hurt you, please, let me apologize.”
Ralph was quiet, his chest heaving as he sighed, and he mumbled, “You’ve done nothing bad to me. Victoria is your friend, and I, her little brother. If anything, treating your friend’s little brother like dirt is common, and you’ve not nearly gotten there yet.”
“Ralph, you realize how bad that is, right?” you told him, holding his hand tightly. “I’m sorry for treating you that way. I-I feel awful.”
Ralph was quiet for a moment, obviously thinking, and he took his bottom lip between his teeth. “Dance with me now,” he said simply.
“Dance with you?” you repeated. “Why?”
“Because I want to dance, there’s a good song playing, and I have nobody to dance with,” Ralph told you. Then, grinning, he added, “You promised me. And it’ll help me accept your apology quicker.”
“Oh, so you’re manipulating me?” you asked with a light laugh, and Ralph nodded quickly.
“It’s what I do best,” Ralph told you, and you were glad to see his smile back. Ralph was a typically happy guy, always giddy and smiling, and you loved to see it. Truthfully, if you could find it in yourself to admit it, you loved to see Ralph.
He was such great fun, always chattering away or playing his ukulele, and, over the years, you had grown a fondness for the slightly younger Penbury sibling. He was a handsome man, those big eyes and pink lips and sweet smile, and his chirpy happiness was intoxicating; that is, when Victoria wasn’t dissing him. There might have been a time when you would have said that you had a crush on Ralph, but, now, as adults, you had locked those feelings away.
Ralph stood from his chair, his hand still in yours, and he pulled you to the middle of the dance floor, his shoes making an odd tapping noise as he walked. “Are you…” you started with a giggle, and Ralph’s smile grew. “Are you wearing tap shoes?”
“Yes!” Ralph exclaimed. “Aren’t they wizard?” His face fell for a moment, almost as if he expected you to interrupt him or shout his name to get him to quiet down, and your heart hurt.
“They are wizard,” you told him. “Exceptionally wizard, Ralph.”
“A-And my hair?” Ralph asked next, his hand drifting up to lightly touch the finger waves in his hair.
“Handsome, as always,” you said, and that cute smile spread across his lips again. One of his hands came down then to touch your waist, the other capturing your free hand, and you laughed at the tap-tap-tap of his shoes as he stepped to dance with you.
“You look beautiful,” Ralph told you, and, when you looked up at his face, you were mesmerized by those eyes of his. If you were just a little drunk, you might have even tried to kiss him. You felt the pull in your belly, but your confidence is what you lacked. You didn’t care what Victoria thought, or any of your other socialite friends— you were terrified of Ralph. Sweet Ralph scared the hell out of you. If you kissed him and he rejected you, you had no idea what you would do with yourself.
“Thank you,” you told him anyway, and you clenched your back teeth to keep in any confessions of admiration.
Ralph, it seemed, had other ideas. A moment passed, those big eyes fixed on your face, and he whispered, “Please don’t hate me.”
“Why would I—“ you started, but Ralph leaned forward before you could finish your question, and he pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was objectively simple, nothing more than his mouth meeting yours, but fireworks exploded in your chest all the same. Ralph was kissing you, and you loved it.
The kiss broke, and you couldn’t control the warm flush that invaded your cheeks. Ralph gave you a shy smile, and he said, “Do you hate me?”
“I could never,” you told him, and your hand lifted from his and fell to the back of his neck, and you kissed him again. You could almost feel Victoria’s beady eyes lock on you as you kissed Ralph, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care about anything; only Ralph.
Ralph said your name against your mouth, and you pulled away from him with hopeful eyes. “I…” he started. “I wanted to… I have a question for you.”
“Anything, Ralph,” you told him, your eyes softening at him. “What is it?”
“I’ve wanted to ask you for years,” Ralph confessed, and your fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck. He smiled at your simple affections, and he cleared his throat, like he was nervous. “But do you… I…”
“”Ralph?” you asked gently, cradling Ralph’s cheek in your hand. He nuzzled his face into your hand for a moment, his eyes closed as he breathed, and he finally opened his eyes and looked down at you.
“Marry me.”
“Ralph,” you gasped, and your heart sank into your stomach. “Oh, darling, I can’t do that.”
“Why not?” Ralph asked. “We’ve known each other our whole lives, and I love you, and I know that you love me too. You don’t have to tell me, because I know.”
You liked how Ralph just seemed to know, that you didn’t need to tell him anything. Despite him knowing, though, you needed to tell him. “I do love you,” you confessed. “I think I always have. But we can’t just get married, darling, there are things we need to do first.”
“Like what?” Ralph asked quickly. “I’ll do them. Anything to be yours.”
You took a deep breath, and you mumbled, “At least take me on a date first before you marry me.”
“I’ll do it,” Ralph told you. “What else?”
“Ralph, darling, it’s just not how things are done,” you uttered. Despite everything, you stayed in his arms, and you leaned forward and touched your cheek to his chest. You could feel his heartbeat under his jacket, quick like a rabbit’s, and you added, “I need a ring, and we’re not even courting. I adore the thought, I do, but we can’t just get married.”
“Says who?” Ralph asked. “I’ve loved you since we were little. And, knowing how you feel, it only makes me more anxious to start my life with you.”
“You have a life—” you started, but Ralph cut you off.
“Do I?” Ralph asked. “Trailing after my sister is not a life. My life means nothing without you, my love. You bring me meaning and happiness.”
“You do the same for me,” you said softly, and you looked up at his face. “I… Alright, Ralph. I’ll tell you what: I’ll marry you tomorrow if you want, but you have to tell Victoria.”
Ralph pouted, and it made you smile. “Must I?” he asked, like the tortured little brother that he was.
“It’s like you said,” you told him. “If you’ve known me your whole life, so has your sister. Tell her that you intend to marry me tomorrow.”
Ralph looked over his shoulder to Victoria, who was, as you had suspected, staring right at you. “One more kiss before the dragon breathes fire and slays me?” he mumbled as he turned back to you, and you giggled.
“Of course, my darling,” you whispered, and Ralph leaned down to kiss you one more time.
”But writing fics is my way to cope / I worked hard on this”
I never said that YOU should stop writing but please dont be an ignorant who turning a blind eye about everything that is happening right now.
“But I’ve been wanting to post my next fic”
okay sure but did you add IMPORTANT LINKS to your fics? that is the LEAST YOU CAN DO!
please put any links about palestine so that people be more aware about it, especially about the global strike that will be going on FEB 18 until FEB 25
also, please READ and UNDERSTAND it
FOR THE AUTHOR IN THIS APP especially to all tlou authors !!
more links to educate yourself :
I can’t get this fic out of my mind. Thank you @mytanuki-kun 🙏🏻😌✨💕