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cabinofimagines · 2 years

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Holi-days ten; Leo Valdez vs your ghost of relationship past

A/N: Personally my family doesn’t compare me to other people but bOY are they obsessed with love lives -Danny

Pairing: PLATONIC Leo Valdez x gn!reader

Words: 2,017 (Yes I still love Leo more than the rest I won’t apologize)

Warnings: Fake dating. I’ll try to make the interactions as platonic as possible. He’s committed to the bit.

<- prev - mlist

“I’m begging you, do not answer more than what the question needs,” you begged Leo while getting closer to your parent’s house. “Otherwise we’ll be tripping in lies.”

“Stop underestimating my talents,” he scoffed. “I can keep up with the lie, it’s you who worries me, you’re a shitty liar under pressure.”

“I am not!”

“Not with our friends, but everyone folds in front of their parents. It’s okay though, I don’t know any of these people so I can lie, I just need you to tell me who your ex is so I don’t fuck up.”

“Name’s Gil, you’ll know who it is as soon as we enter, it’s like a children-magnet, puppy-charmer.”

Leo gave you a confused look. “That tells me nothing.”

“Trust me,” your gaze darkened. “You’ll know.”

Leo knocked on the door because your hands were full with presents and food for the party, when the door opened it was your uncle who welcomed you in.

“Y/N/N!” He smiled, but before you could even step in, his eyes landed on Leo and his entire face lit up at the sight of a new character. “You brought someone!”

“Hi, I’m Leo,” your friend reached for the older man’s hand. Was it your imagination, or was his voice slightly deeper than moments before? “I’m Y/N’s boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend!” Your uncle pulled Leo in, leaving you at the door, ignored and struggling to carry everything you’d brought with you. “Everyone, Y/N’s here with a boyfriend!”

Several voices came from the living room, the first people to show up were your cousins and aunts. Your youngest cousin squealed in excitement and beamed at Leo as if he were a guy straight out of her favorite novels.

He was wrapped in a conversation with your cousins, and since they were the least annoying of the whole group, you decided he was safe at the moment, and you made your way to the kitchen.

“Hi..?” Your parent welcomed you in with open arms, smiling at you like it’d been years since your last reunion. Sometimes it felt like that.

“Y/N! Let me give you a hand...”

As you both placed everything you were carrying on the large table, your parent glanced at you with a little grin.

“Did I hear right? You brought a boyfriend?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, hoping it looked confident. “He’s in the living room, do you wanna meet him?”

“Sure, but just so you know,” you walked out of the kitchen together, lowering your voices. “Gil’s in the living room too, so this is gonna be a little awkward.”

You tried to keep your smile on your face, Gil was about to go down. “It’s okay, we’re all grown-ups, right?”

Although you weren’t feeling that grown right now, you were back in your teens desperately trying to get Gil to look your way, even if this time around it was for completely opposite reasons.

You didn’t understand why things had gone down the way they did, I mean, Gil was the stranger in this situation, and yet your family had always fawned over your friend. You’ve met in middle school, way before you’d fully submerged into the demigod life, so you could say back then you were the same.

Then you started to grown, and you started to like each other a bit too much, and suddenly Gil was your first kiss, your first prom date, and then in college you sorta fell out of love, mostly because you were never around (demigods are never when you most need them and always where they least should be) and you broke up, but at first it was okay.

Sure, you’ve always been a little annoyed during the relationship because everyone was always pointing out how little you were there and how Gil was always doing everything for you and then some. How Gil was amazing at handling school, work, and your relationship. Then you broke up, and it just got worse, because now Gil was in a relationship with your whole family, and you were perpetually third-wheeling.

“Y/N, there you are!” Leo showed up at the living room’s entrance, finding your hand and intertwining your fingers. “Is this..?”

“This is my parent, Y/P/N,” you gracefully pulled Leo closer. “This is my boyfriend, Leo Valdez, he’s from my summer job.”

Your parent knew well what your summer job was, but you would call it that way when the rest of the family was present to avoid awkward conversations as to why on earth were you still going to your childhood summer camp.

“Nice to meet you, Leo,” they shook hands briefly, but something in your parent’s eyes gave you the icky feeling that the lies weren’t that solid.

When Gil and Leo first interacted there was nothing dramatic to it, Leo was surprisingly casual and natural, so was Gil. However, you could notice the little things and you were living for them.

At some point while talking about jobs and what not, your aunt mentioned Gil’s newest promotion and pointed out that your job seemed to be a little harder than your ex’s, considering how long it was taking you to move up.

Leo was quick to intervene.

“Oh, that’s gotta be my fault,” he sighed, “I have this charity organization that travels across the country and Y/N helps me from time to time, so they have to work from home often— of course it’s an advantage that Y/N’s friends with the boss, and we can always tell her about our trips so she can give Y/N the week.”

“I keep telling Leo he’s got no fault in this, I’m happy to help,” you smiled big, delighted with his performance. “But yeah, my boss was Leo’s teacher in college and she holds him in great esteem, I’m lucky he’s such a man of the people.”

Gil glanced at you briefly from across the table, but you pretended not to notice.

“So auntie,” you continued. “What about your son? Is he graduating High school at last?”

Leo choked on his drink, but he managed to turn away before your aunt could notice.

“No way.”

“I swear.”

“No, there’s no way you’re the one who designed that new rollercoaster at the San Francisco fair— that thing’s amazing!”

“For a change it’s the first attraction where I don’t feel like it’s so terribly built I could die at any moment.”

“That’s cause I’m good at my job,” Leo said proudly. “No but seriously, that’s something I made with my mom, she’s crazy good at building that kind of structures, and my little sister’s a fan of rollercoasters, so...”

You locked eyes with Leo and winked at him, he had all of your cousins wrapped around his pinky, and your aunts were slowly melting at his apparently selfness nature, he had tons of stories from his time helping the youths and then some more about this camp where he counseled the little kids.

Only the uncles were a little unimpressed, but you had the feeling it was closer to jealousy, Leo was really checking all the boxes of a model citizen and your uncles... were, most of them always left things to be desired.

As for Gil... Gil seemed to be enjoying Leo almost as much as everyone else, and you weren’t sure of how to feel about that. If you were honest, however, this whole rivalry thing you had going on... it was pretty much just you, fighting against the made-up expectations you felt you had to cover.

Talking about the devil, Gil finally got up and approached you, smiling from ear to ear.

“Leo’s fantastic.”

“I know, right?” You beamed. “Can’t believe he agreed to come— I mean, that he had time to visit.”

Gil looked at you funnily, but if something sounded wrong about your story, it was never brought up.

“You know, I’ve been worried about you.”

You frowned. “What?”

“Yeah I mean, your family is amazing, but I don’t know... ever since we started college— god, even before college, at some point you just... grew distant. It felt like there was something keeping you, and I thought that breaking up was the best idea...”

“I broke up with you,” you said defensively.

“Yeah, well I let it happen,” Gil brushed it off. “But you didn’t get better, and I felt awful cause I thought I’d left you alone to deal with whatever it was you were dealing, but I was wrong...”

Gil turned and nodded at Leo with a warm smile.

“I’m glad to see you’ve been in good hands.”

Leo looked way too comfortable with your family, but looking at him made you think of everyone else. Gil couldn’t understand, would never understand why you’d left everyone out of your life— but your camp friends understood.

They knew you better than anyone ever could, they were willing to travel and disregard their own holiday plans only to back you up against the worst enemy of all: blood relatives.

You smiled at the thought, nodding a little. “Yeah, I’m quite lucky, aren’t I?”

“Hi again,” Leo nudged your arm. “Been a long night, right?”

“Could’ve been worse, honestly,” you sighed, returning the nudge. “Thank you for coming, you really didn’t have to. I could’ve just lied.”

“Yeah but I wanted to come, to be honest is like good practice for when I actually meet my actual partner’s family. What reminds me... what are you gonna say to them if they ask about me again?”

You snorted. “What makes you think I’m letting you go so quickly? I hope you’re ready for the long run, cause we have a fake wedding to plan.”

Leo laughed. “How about just marrying for real? If I die you get my life insurance and if you die I get yours!”

“If we’re both single by thirty we marry?” You joked.

“Yes!” He put an arm around your shoulders. “See? Great minds think alike.”

You snorted, elbowing him playfully. “I talked to Gil a while ago.”

Leo’s mouth fell open, he got a little too excited. “Don’t tell me Gil tried to get you back?!”

“No no,” you rolled your eyes. “Don’t be like that, is not that kind of gossip.”

“Ah damn, I was so ready to make a scene,” Leo sighed. “What did you talk about, then?”

You briefly told him the whole story, and at the end Leo tilted his head, a funny look in his eyes.

“Huh. Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“Really?”

“Well, dating mortals is not easy,” Leo shrugged. “Especially if you’re not willing to tell them the truth. I guess that from outside, it does look like we’re just a bunch of depressed and secretive people. Gil’s right, none of them can really help you out with your olympic struggles, but you have us for that, so it’s okay.”

“So... you’re saying I’ll die alone?”

Around you, everyone started the countdown to the New Year, Leo grabbed two drinks and handed you one of them.

“C’mon, Y/N L/N won’t die alone. You’re too cool for that. And if everything else fails, you have me to play your handsome fiance for the next...” he squinted, “two years? You better get to work, otherwise you’ll be stuck with me forever.”

“I could say the same to you,” you grinned.

“FIVE... FOUR... THREE...”

“Meh, could be worse, honestly,” he admitted, putting an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer. He’d noticed your aunties were watching the two of you from afar.

“TWO... ONE!”

Fireworks could be heard in the distance, the “Happy new year!” choir came from all over the house, hugs were exchanged around you, and Leo planted a loud and dramatic kiss on your cheek.

“Happy New year, baby,” he said out loud in the cheesiest voice he could muster.

You cringed, but luckily enough managed to do most of the suffering on the inside.

“Happy New Year... babe.”

Leo laughed, ruffling your hair and kissing your cheek once more, for your grandma’s sake.

#Danny's writing #pjo fanfic #hoo imagine #xmas 2022 #leo valdez x reader

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words-after-midnight · 2 years

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Find the Word (again, yay!)

Tagged by @pertinax--loculos, tysm!

Tagging: @calicojackofficial, @frostedlemonwriter, @joeys-piano (if you wanna do another one!), @novel-emma, + open tag.

My words: hand, yell, deal, wait and lose.

Your words: minute, dare, fresh, ahead, none.

Cheated mildly on a couple of these, lol (just tenses). All from Life in Black and White, Act I (previous version).

Hand

As I wait for Jeff to come back with his notion of “something stronger than beer,” whatever that may be, I make a promise to the moon, and to myself, that I won’t get drunk. Surely one drink isn’t going to cause a repeat of the Fourth. Maybe even two drinks. Yeah, maybe if I pace myself, I can make it two drinks.

He comes back with a fucking full quart of straight vodka. Smiles as he hands it to me. “This good?”

I want to say no, you fucking idiot - but then, I’m the one who requested something stronger, am I not? I look at the bottle and quickly decide that it’s all too tempting to pass up. “Yep. Thanks.”

Yell

I hear footsteps on the floor, and then the creak of a door...

“Jeff!” I yell, and with a strength I didn’t know I possessed, I push past Allie, wrench open the door and dart out into the hallway. I pass the staircase just as the man at the top of the stairs - Allie’s husband, I assume - starts descending, glancing at me with a mean look on his bulldog face.

Deal

But apparently, Daphne wants to talk about it, so I’m subjected to a convoluted rant about Kyle being a weak son of a bitch with a pathologically low level of patience. He ended up getting sick of her, and one day, told her to pack her things and get out of his apartment. One of her co-workers offered to board her for the same amount she’d been paying (Daphne now works at a large FedEx call center – “They’ll never fire me, because I’m the one they come get to deal with the really bitchy customers,” she proudly boasts).

Wait

“Oh, yeah, because you’re such a selfless angel. Don’t make me laugh.” He stepped right up to me, almost teasing me, a mocking smile on his face. Looked me dead in the eyes. “You really going to stand here and act like you’re not just sitting in my good graces, waiting around for the next time I decide to let you jump my bones? No, of course not. You’re fucking Mother Teresa. The only person who could possibly love me, right?”

Lose

The curtain opens and a tired-looking nurse walks in. “Hi, Gabriel. How are you feeling?” When I don’t respond, she turns to my dad, telling him gently, “I’ll call psych for you now that he’s awake. It’s a slow night, shouldn’t take them too –”

Before I know what’s hit me, I lose it. “I don’t need psych!” I yell at her.

#find the word #libaw #writeblr #tag game #minors dni

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unravelingthepages · 2 years

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Infernal Fall- Book Review

Hi! Infernal Fall by Bryan Timothy Mitchell is a book I just finished and the first of a series. It was released earlier this year. I enjoyed it!

I was intrigued reading the blurb of this book, to say the least, and the book delivered on all my questions. This is a Christian fantasy novel that takes us on a journey into the layers of Hell with the main character, Daniel, who just so managed to fall into Hell. Literally.

The Plot

There is only one way out of Hell.

Daniel Strong is a troubled young man with only one bright spot in his life—his girlfriend, Kristine. He hopes to propose to her on a hike in the mountains, but a mysterious artifact in a dark cavern ruins his plan. Things quickly go downhill—literally—as handling the ‘keystone’ causes Daniel to fall straight into Hell, leaving Kristine behind.

A soul-harvesting demon tells him the only way out is through, that he must go to Satan and bargain for his freedom. But the shadow-man responsible for leaving the keystone behind tries to show him there’s another way out. Against his better judgment, Daniel finds himself listening to the demon’s claims that appealing to the Master of the Underworld himself is his only choice.

As the unlikely group traverses the many levels of Hell, hurt, anger, and fear hound Daniel, reminding him how hopeless his efforts truly are. All Daniel can do is push forward in hopes of making it back to Kristine. Will Daniel heed Kristine’s words to choose life? Or will he succumb to the lies pulling him down with every step?

Book Review-

This book follows three characters. We see each of their perspectives as they somehow find themselves a team, travelling through Hell. I’m not going to lie, I got frustrated with them a lot and hated Daniel. But it’s also what kept me intrigued in the book, if that makes sense?

The world building is done well. It was easy to follow along to and for once, I didn’t find myself skimming through the parts which had imagery. I finished the entire read in a day itself.

I don’t actually think I can expand more on the book without giving spoilers but I will say this-

The book is well-paced.

It was fun seeing familiar characters like Lilith and Azazael play cameos here.

The entire concept of Hell and the layers of Hell was well-done and I loved reading about them through the story.

The only criticism I had with the book was the at times iffy character development. I would have loved to see more of it and maybe more deep insights into why they are how they are. Daniel was so unnecessarily angry all the time and that was his character trait but it didn’t explain why a supposedly ruthless demon would let him punch him. I also found it weird that the demon wasn’t better at hiding his emotions, I mean, shouldn’t you be a better actor after living in Hell for years? And lastly, the way both the demon and Beau went along with Daniel when he clearly wasn’t a fit leader. Anyway, thanks for coming to my TED talk.

All-in-all, I would definitely recommend this book to you if you enjoy Christian fiction, think about different interpretations of the afterlife and such.

Thank you to bookinfluencers.com and the author for my free e-book of this read.

In order to keep me up to my ears in books please consider using the following amazon affiliate link to purchase this read. It would be at no extra cost to you and would really help me out, thank you!

purchase this read: https://amzn.to/3to1msu [it’s on Kindle Unlimited!!]

‘just one more chapter’ is the very unhealthy motto I live by

#book blog #book review #book reviews #Christian fiction #Infernal Fall #reading #bibliophile #bookblr #book blogger

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signalwatch · 1 year

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Friday Night Watch: Confess Fletch (2022)

I saw both of the Chevy Chase Fletch films in the theater, and was part of a generation of people who wanted desperately to be able to quip somewhere between Fletch and Peter Venkman from Ghostbusters, making for a bunch of horrible kids who said the worst thing at the worst time all the time.

But those Chevy Chase movies were both pretty solid, even if the first is definitely better than the second. That said, I also remember my seventh grade Language Arts teacher informing us that the movies weren't a patch on the novels, and that Fletch was fundamentally different in the movies than what a coked-up Chevy Chase was delivering. This did not convince me to check out the books because I was a fan of the movies and felt comfortable in my ignorance. I have not lifted one of the 11 novels.

In the intervening years, I have no idea if anyone else attempted to make a Fletch movie. Just wasn't on my radar. And then in late 2022, I recall ads for a John Hamm movie that was, in fact a new Fletch installment.

Hamm made his bones as Don Draper on Mad Men, but in subsequent years has shown great talent as a comedic actor as well as dramatic. He's puzzlingly not quite caught on as a leading man in giant movies, but he has found a happy home in mid-budget films that wind up on streaming fairly quickly. That said, his brand of comedy has rarely felt much like the persona Chase had made famous, so when I saw he was taking on Fletch, I had no idea how this would go.

The movie itself completely flopped at the box office. I have no idea what the plan was, but the domestic gross was about $540,000. It wasn't a critical darling, but did have a decent RT and Metacritic score. Still, it's telling that this just isn't the sort of thing people will leave the house to go see in 2023.

The first two Fletch films manage to have intensely convoluted plots, but it doesn't matter, because the plots are there as a vehicle for Chase to do his thing, and if he resolves the mystery, that's terrific. He wears disguises and is constantly in motion, and that's enough. This film has a similar and deeply convoluted plot, but Hamm's Fletch doesn't wear disguises, he barely puts on an act when he needs to and he adopts a name (if he can remember it), and I assume it's closer to the books. But you do start to look at the seams of the mystery a lot more, and I'm not sure I entirely get why the murder occurs that Fletch was supposed to confess to that sets up the movie, or why the cops think Fletch knows the victim or would want to kill her (motive, means, etc...). It's entirely random and circumstantial to outside eyes.

But the movie moves along at a good clip, Hamm is actually very funny and stays not quite a step ahead of everyone else unlike Chase's Fletch you thought was 5 steps ahead.

The movie is helped along by a solid cast, including Kyle MacLachlan as an art broker, Marcia Gay Harden playing an Italian Contessa to the hilt, Roy Wood Jr. as a detective/ new father, Ayden Mayeri as Wood Jr's partner, and Annie Mumolo as a wacky neighbor. And John Slattery briefly as Fletch's old boss, now in Boston.

It's kind of an ideal end-of-the-week movie that's not too much of anything, but also not... dumb.

Mostly, I kind of think this should have been just a movie straight to Apple+ or Paramount (where I watched it), and it's fine. It's the sort of thing we all paid to see a lot of in the 1990's. But the fact the movie didn't make any money is probably much more of an indicator now of what people will just wait for than genuine disinterest in the movie. I, for one, blocked time on my calendar to watch it when I saw it was on Paramount.

Would I watch more installments on Hamm as Fletch? I think I would. He's enjoyable, the movie is light and fun, and his version of Fletch's persona in the face of chaos is actually pretty enjoyable. But it's far less broad. That's left to pretty much all the supporting characters. So seeing them do this Knives Out style every two years or so would be welcome. But, I suspect, that ain't happening.

https://ift.tt/X4edO0n

from The Signal Watch https://ift.tt/dhB2LUW

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petekaos · 2 years

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rip jane austen you would have loved lee junho

#extraordinary attorney woo #when i tell you my man stepped straight out of her novels i mean it #his jaw clench in the scenes where he puts his jacket around youngwoo + takes an eyelash off her cheek!!!!!!!#‘i like you so much it makes me feel sick inside.’ who the fuck just says that.#rahul.txt

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wespersdaughter · 2 years

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marriage is an economic proposition - benedict bridgerton x reader

masterlist

Summary: You've been in love with Benedict your whole life, but he never seemed to acknowledge it. When you return to the city for your debut, he finally seems to notice you. But will it be too late?

A/N: I love Little Women (especially in the 2019 version) so I wanted to write some Benny/Reader based on Amy and Laurie. The dialogue is almost entirely taken from the script of Little Women (2019) which means some scenes will be inaccurate to the Bridgerton setting and some of it will be inaccurate to the Little Women setting. Look, this is pure self-indulgence on my part.

You only realised how disappointed you were in yourself until an art lesson with some of the best young painters in the country. Tasked with painting a classic scene of friends at a picnic, you looked around your classmates’ work, just sensing something might be wrong with yours. The artist next to you was exceptional. His work was bright and colourful, rendered with looseness you could never capture. Original and unique to himself. Yours was detailed and realistic and rendered with incredible accuracy. An imitation of those before you.

It hit you suddenly. The fact that you weren’t quite the genius you once thought. After the lesson, you returned to your aunt’s home in a carriage, said woman ranting and raving about Lady Whistledown’s gossip.

“That woman is an imbecile, I tell you. Why she must be some chittering hag with no true amusement in her life.”

You didn’t respond, eyes wandering to look at every face you rode past.

“Y/N!” You startled, meeting your cranky aunt’s eyes, “I said, ‘Lady Whistledown must be some chittering hag with no true amusement in her life.’”

You gave her a false laugh, “Oh yes, very true dear aunt.”

She turned her nose up at you, “Don’t humour me girl. You would do well to remember, I took you in as a kindness to my brother, and I can turn you away just as quickly.”

“Yes dear aunt. My apologies.” A small appeasing smile seemed to do the trick for now.

“Now. As your loving relative, I would like to know if you have yet to find a match.”

As your sponsor, she should know this already but your aunt was apparently determined to see you flounder with the lack of care she showed you.

“We agreed that I should finish my painting lessons, that way all of my focus shall be on securing a match.”

Your aunt was evidently displeased with you, but you at least confirmed something substantial was on the way, so she simply waved you off. When she told your father she would handle your debut, she had not expected this amount of pushback.

As you continued on your way, you left the bustling main streets of the town. This was your favourite part of the journey, the trees and flowers were truly beautiful. The only solace you had from your aunt’s droning voice.

You noticed a man walk past, hands tucked in his pockets, straight from your favourite romance novel. He was tall, dark and classically handsome. Then you looked at his face properly.

Abandoning all sense of propriety, you knocked on the roof, “STOP THE CARRIAGE! STOP!”

Barely looking at the concerned footman, you jumped out, crying for “BENNY! BENEDICT!”

He turned quickly, catching you in his arms. You spun around, laughing with the joy of childhood.

As you pulled away, he held your gloved hands tightly, signature smile bright on his cheeks. “You’re so grown up.”

“You wrote that you’d come visit me.”

“Believe me, I wanted to, but after father passed, things grew rather complicated.”

Your face turned down in sadness, Lord Edmund Bridgerton was a truly kind man. When Lady Violet had written to your family, your father could not speak for days.

“Although I’m certain I wouldn’t have recognised you.” Benedict stepped back, moving your connected hands to the sides, “You’ve become so beautiful.”

You scrunched your nose, “Please don’t.”

“I thought you liked that sort of thing!” He said through soft laughter.

“Not anymore.” You looked over his shoulder, “Where is everyone else? I thought at least Gregory and Hyacinth would be out with you.”

He pulled his hands away finally, tucking them behind his back, “At home, I’ve been… preoccupied.”

“Drinking and gambling and flirting-“ You teased.

“Don’t tell your aunt!” If you didn’t know better, you would’ve thought he was genuinely scandalised by the prospect.

Speak of the devil and she shall shout your name from the carriage, a vein in her forehead near bursting.

You looked over your shoulder, “Coming, dear aunt!” You turned back to Benedict, grabbing his hands once more, “Will you be at Lady Calthorpe’s birthday ball? I will save a dance for you.”

“Of course.” He smiled again, “Now go before your aunt’s screeching gets any louder.”

You let him have that final jab, running back to the carriage.

Ignoring your aunt’s outraged lecture, you turned back to look at the man you once loved. He was back on his way, hands tucked into his pockets. Then it clicked. You still loved him.

~*~*~*~*~

Lady Calthorpe certainly knew how to throw a soiree, entertainment could be found around every corner and the musicians she invited were truly remarkable.

Of course none of this could distract you from the fact that Benedict had not shown his face. You had already danced with a Lord Knightley, a Lord Lumley, a Lord Partridge, and with each of his brothers. The rest of your time was spent milling about the room with your aunt.

After your second dance with the cherub-faced Lord Knightley, you spotted Benedict.

He was draped across a chaise, as far from prying eyes as he could be. If you weren’t so infuriated with him, you would say he looked beautiful under the candlelight. You approached him cautiously.

“Benny.”

He looked agitated, like he’d seen something unpleasant. His tone suggested the same, “Y/N.”

“I waited the entire evening for you.” You held up your full dance card.

“I feel caught.” You were not in the mood for his sarcasm. You left the room as quickly as you could, making your way to the gardens for some fresh air.

“Y/N, please!” Benedict had chased after you, his sister Eloise following (she was incredibly bored inside and she could claim she was a chaperone should anyone find you).

When his footsteps drew a little too close for your comfort, you whipped around to face him, “Do you want to know what I honestly think of you?” Your indignant tone made him bristle defensively.

“What do you honestly think of me?”

“I despise you.”

“Why do you despise me?”

“You’re given every chance to be good and useful and happy, yet you waste it on being lazy and miserable.”

“Oh now this is interesting.” His tone was mocking, teasing you like a school boy pulling on the pigtails of his crush.

“You’re so selfish!”

“Oh am I now?”

“Very. With your money, your talent, your beauty-”

“Oh you think I’m beautiful?”

You threw your hands up in anger. “Of course that’s all you hear from that! You have all these things going for you and you waste them, Benny!”

You marched towards him, hoping to brush past and make your way back to the ballroom.

He grabbed your arm before you could, gently but with enough force to stop you. “I promise I’ll do better Saint Y/N.”

You moved your icy glare from the offending hand to his face, “Are you not ashamed?”

“What on earth do you mean?”

You could not bring yourself to explain. You chose to take a step back, arm no longer in his grasp.

You heard Lord Knightley’s voice, as well as your aunt’s. They were looking for you.

Benedict’s face twisted, something you recognised from your own mirror. He was jealous about your potential courtship. You had known jealousy, one could not love a Bridgerton without it. You had certainly never been this cruel though.

“I apologise, Benedict, if I have caused you any offence in dancing with Lord Knightley. I just wish you’d bear it better.”

You took a few steps backward before his voice stopped you, “You do not need to apologise. I’m certain Lord Knightley will take excellent care of you. Even if you can never love him.”

You turned back one final time, “I would at least be respected if I could not be loved.”

That was not the reaction he wants. “Respected for what? Your work has been lacking, oh great ‘artiste’! Have you been imagining how you’ll spend Lord Knightley’s fortune?” He stormed past you, grabbing Eloise and dragging her with him.

You laid a hand to your stomach, steadying your breath and forcing tears down by sheer will and training.

Your aunt’s voice called for you again and you met her and Lord Knightley, amiable smile at the ready, “My apologies, I simply needed some air.”

~*~*~*~*~

With the promise of an engagement to Lord Knightley, your aunt allowed you to continue your work in a study-turned-art studio. However, this particular painting was giving you immense trouble.

All of your art was... it simply was not good. There was no originality in them, no sense of your style, no flair or panache.

You kept at it though, hoping this was merely a block you had to push through.

The door creaked open softly and closed much the same. There was only one person you knew that would need to sneak in like that.

“I do not wish to see you Benedict.”

“I wanted to apologise for my behaviour the other night.” You could hear him moving closer, so you stepped away, cleaning your brushes.

“Have you been drinking?”

“Are you truly to reprimand my social life now? It is the afternoon.”

“Someone has to hold you to account.”

Even as he moved to the chair in the corner of the room, you refused to look at him.

“So when do you start working on your masterpiece?” He teased.

“Never.”

He became serious finally, “Why?”

“I am a failure, Benny.”

“Quite the statement to make at two and twenty.” He tried to make eye contact with you but you looked to the floor.

Heartbreak clear in your tone, you explained, “Well, my aunt has stripped me of my vanity. And my lessons have made me realise that I shall never be a genius. I am leaving these foolish hopes in my past.”

He matched your mood, “You have too much talent for that.”

You finally looked at him, “Talent is not enough for a woman to make her way in the world. If I cannot be great, I will settle for nothing at all. Marriage is my only future.”

You began to pack your supplies away loudly, thinking it would end the conversation.

“I certainly believe your talent is enough.” When Ben noticed your lack of attention, he tried another route. “Besides, what women are allowed into the club of geniuses?”

You sat down in a huff, thinking for a moment, “Jane Austen?”

By the amused expression on his face, you shifted the tone, “It does not matter Benedict. I cannot be successful.”

“Well who declares genius anyway?”

“Men, I suppose.” You fiddled with your apron.

“Then they are simply cutting down the competition.”

You laughed, comforted a little. “That is too complicated an argument to make me feel better.” You busied yourself again, never the type to wallow in your own emotions.

“Do you feel better?”

“What I do feel is that male or female I am of middling talent.”

“In that case,” he jumped up, making his way to a chair clearly set up for you to practice your portraits. He threw himself down, like an actress in a Shakespeare performance. “May I ask that your last portrait be of me?”

“You can certainly ask.” You made no move to actually paint him, opting to admire him for what was likely the last time.

“So,” he shifted into a more comfortable pose, “now that you have given up your childish dreams, do you seriously intend to marry?”

“I will be very happy as an ornament to my husband and society.”

He knew you didn’t mean that, but wished to tease you some more, “I suppose that is where Lord Knightley enters the conversation.”

“Don’t make fun!”

“I said his name!” He threw his hands up in surrender before clasping them together again. “You are not engaged, I hope?”

“No…”

“But you will be, if he goes down properly on one knee?”

“Most likely, yes. He is a wealthy man, even wealthier than the Bridgertons.”

You winced internally at the upset that bloomed on his face. “I understand ladies of your age and status seek money from a husband, but it sounds rather odd coming from your mouth.”

You rolled your eyes, picking up your gloves, “I have always known that I needed to marry rich. Why should I be ashamed of that?”

“There is nothing to be ashamed of, as long as you love him.”

“Well, I believe we have some power over who we love, it isn’t something that just happens to a person.” You pulled your gloves on roughly.

“I think the poets might disagree.”

“But I am not a poet, I am a woman.” You stepped closer to Benedict, choosing your words carefully. You needed him to understand your situation, “And as a woman there is no way for me to make my own money, certainly not enough to earn a living or to support my family. If I had my own money, that money would belong to my husband as soon as we got married. If we had children, they would be his, not mine. They would be his property. So do not sit there and tell me that marriage is not an economic proposition, because it is. It may not be for you but it most certainly is for me.”

Looking at his distraught expression twisted your stomach. This wasn’t something you enjoyed doing. You would always love Benedict, but Lord Knightley held the best prospects for you. But Benny was just so handsome, the kind of man Greek sculptors or European painters would go mad for.

Before the feelings can overwhelm you, the telltale sounds of a carriage approaching drifted through the window.

“That should be Lord Knightley now.” You turned your back to Benedict. “Can you help me?”

He took great care in removing your apron, releasing each button with tender care. You almost jolted forward when his fingers brushed your lower back softly, untying the bow with the same respect as the buttons. The energy of the room changed the longer you stood before him. His fingers lingered at your spine even when the apron was completely removed.

You broke away swiftly, thanking him as you folded your apron and tossed it towards the rest of your supplies.

“I trust you will see yourself out.” You said, fixing your dress and hair as best say you can. “How do I look?”

It was an automatic response, “You look beautiful.” When he really thought it about his answer all that came out was, “You are beautiful.”

You couldn’t take your eyes away from him until you heard your aunt call for you. You hummed softly, making your way out.

Benedict watched you leave, stomach brewing with something intense. He couldn’t figure out what. But it certainly wasn’t pleasant.

~*~*~*~*~

Benedict came around again, this time with permission from your aunt. You were on the floor of the drawing room, sketching the man lounging at your side. Your aunt, who was meant to be your chaperone, snored softly from where she cuddled her dog.

Your sketch was fluid, you weren’t trying to impress anyone, so you could afford to be looser with your movement.

“Have you found yourself a match yet?” You asked.

“Not yet.”

“Your mother must be terribly displeased.”

“Oh certainly. She has introduced to the same ladies at each event we have attended.”

“Insolence does not suit you Benny.”

“I shall only plague her with my presence, she is too worried about Daphne and the Duke. I will plague you a little longer, dearest. You can bear it.” He pinched your cheek softly, “I think it agrees with you.”

You pushed his hand away, looking up from your work, “What are you doing?”

“I’m looking at you.” His tone nearly betrayed his newfound affection for you.

“No, I mean what do you intend to do?”

“With life?”

“Yes.”

His voice was sarcastic, “I’ve been writing an opera, I’d be the central figure of course.”

You scoffed, looking back to your sketch.

“What would you have me do, dearest?”

“You should be more amenable to your mother’s efforts.” The bubble of closeness and affection was broken now.

Benedict stood quickly, “You’re not playing fair.”

Hoping he wouldn’t leave, you offered him the sketch.

He held it with reverence, gently tracing a hand around the edge of the pencil lines, “It’s very good.”

Meeting your eyes once more to return the sketch, something shifted in those baby blues. His voice was so soft you almost missed his words, “Don’t marry him.”

“What?”

“Don’t marry him.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

You realised quickly what he meant and took a step back, “No, Benny no.”

He reached for your face, “Yes, Y/N.”

You pushed his hands away, “You’re being cruel. Stop it.”

“How am I being cruel?”

You backed away fully, face curled with heartbreak, “I have been in love with you since we were children. And I will not be the person you settle for because your mother is pressuring you to pick someone. I won’t do it.” You tossed your sketches and pencil to the ground, storming away.

~*~*~*~*~

Much to the disappointment of your aunt, you turned Lord Knightley’s proposal down. You were unable to look him in the eyes and genuinely accept. Your heart was set on another. He was kind about it, your aunt less so.

You frankly did not care what your aunt thought of you any more. You asked for a carriage and set off to the Bridgerton household, writing to your father hastily.

Lady Bridgerton met you at the door, smile warm and welcoming, brow furrowed with light confusion. Then it clicked who you were and her entire face eased.

She led you to the drawing room, where the whole family was gathered. She shooed them out quickly, despite their half-hearted protests or befuddled questions.

Only Benedict was left, standing in the centre of the room. His eyes drawn to your figure even as his mother moved out of the way.

You walked to each other slowly, enveloped in your own little world.

“I thought you despised me.”

Your face twisted with upset, “Oh Benny. I could never despise you.” You reached for his hands, feeling his thumbs rub over your knuckles. “I turned Lord Knightley down.”

He smiled, “I know. Eloise read it in Whistledown.”

You dropped his hands, rubbing them on your dress. It made no difference, you were wearing gloves.

“You are under no obligation to say anything or do anything, it was because I did not love him as I should.” His face softened as you continued to ramble nervously, “We never need to talk about it, we don’t have to talk about -“

You were cut off when his hands caught your face. The same care and reverence in his touch as when he handled your paintings.

“I love you.”

“And I love you.”

#benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagine

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wh0reifyoudontexist · 3 years

Note

hi, i think the worst thing a man can do is cheat on a pregnant woman so could i request a fic with draco with that plot?

but that draco really loves his wife and someone from his environment influences him to cheat on her and from there whatever you want to happen:(

WAAAAAH ANGST MY FAVORITE

first words

draco malfoy x reader

post hogwarts

angst

request: yes | no

summary: draco cheats on his pregnant wife (i am not good at summaries excuse me)

warnings: curse words, cheating, i think that's it? tell me if i missed a few 😽

masterlist | navigation

"shit"

first word ever said between the two of them, needless to say that's the start of a romance novel; cliche isn't it?

spilled coffee all over a cream colored blouse, tears threatening to fall out of lids, ears ringing and full of apologies falling out of the mouth of a blonde that stood in front of her, one hand grasping a handkerchief, the other on her waist guiding the woman onto the side of diagon alley.

"i'm sorry, i didn't mean to," he said sincerely carefully damping the cloth in hand on her brown stained blouse, "let me make it up to you?" he questioned finally looking up at her, who's brows have been furrowed the whole time.

instead of answering, she lifted one of her arms, eyes straight on the watch enclosed on her wrist, before rubbing her face with both of her hands sighing loudly, "sure." she finally said, dismissing the thought to tell him she was expected to be in an interview 10 minutes ago.

and instead let him lead her to a cafe with his hand on her back.

that was a decade ago. now 29 married and pregnant with the same man who cost her a job; not that she needs one now.

setting down the cup of tea, circling her thumb on her swollen belly, feeling a kick "hi there darling, how you holding up in there?" she smiled, "your daddy's gonna be here soon, bet you're excited aren't you?" she whispered as she bought her hand up to kiss it before placing it on top of her stomach once more, rubbing it gently, "love you, little one"

what she didn't know? oh, it was that her husband wasn't going to 'be here soon'

she laid in bed moving to lay on her left, hand smoothing out her husband's side, brushing away non-existent dirt. 'he must have a lot of work left' was her mindset at that moment,

breathing out a sigh, she kissed her hand one last time for the night, placing it right above her stomach heading to sleep.

"don't you miss it?"

"shove off, dilton. i need to get home," draco said pushing away his co-worker out of his way, ready to go home and be greeted by his lovely wife, ready to smother her with kisses, ready to talk to his unborn son.

"oh come on malfoy! just this once, please?"

is he serious?

convincing a married man to cheat on his wife? his pregnant wife?

ignoring him, he continued his way to the floo network of the ministry, only to be stopped by aaron dilton's voice,

"you really have changed, what happened to the malfoy back at hogwarts? the one who wouldn't give a single fuck about the girls he slept with? you're boring, that must be how it is for married men. don't you ever get bored of your wife?"

if draco wasn't listening before he definitely was now, ears turning red at the mention of his wife spoken of so in such a vile manner,

but no. if only that wasn't the case, he wouldn't admit it but something did snap inside of him at dilton's words causing him to turn around, face him and do something that will leave him feeling nothing but regret the following day,

but that's a problem meant to be solved tomorrow.

"where were you?"

he froze, steps halting when he lifted his face to look at his wife, a furrow adorning her brow, wrapped around a midnight blue robe, furs at the end. "got caught up with work," he lied "sorry love"

"that's alright. come on up, let's sleep" something about her tone made him think she didn't believe him,

and why would she? his hair's all ruffled, shirt untucked and rumpled, but that's what happens when you're too busy stressing right? you forget about how you look, and sigh frustratedly, hands rubbing your face roughly that you look like you've just awoken from a deep slumber.

oh how he wished that was what happened, heart breaking at the thought of someone hurting her wife, mentally or physically, but what hurt more? knowing that it was him that'll hurt her,

but it doesn't matter she won't find out... right?

the next time it happens, he wasn't pushed into doing it, he wanted to prove something. he wanted them to know that he was still the same as they were in hogwarts, something about him turning soft made him frustrated, frustrated about what his fellow peers will say,

and the next time it happens, he won't be so lucky as the last, he shouldn't have even gotten away with it

skipping work with his 'friends' and going home so early to not be suspected of anything,

by the time he enters the door to their manor, he froze mid-step upon seeing his wife approaching him a cup in hand, a smile on her blemish free face.

"hi, i missed you," she breathed onto his neck, her head tucked between the area where his neck and shoulder met,

unbeknownst to him, she was trying her hardest not to let a tear slip from her eyes, smelling cheap perfume stuck on his skin, small and unnoticeable marks on his porcelain skin, you have to really squeeze your eyes to see them, for her case she doesn't have to, it's so close to her face that she had to turn her head to the other side before finally letting him go,

"i didn't know you were gonna be home so early, i haven't prepared any food yet," she spoke trying her best to keep her voice steady as possible though failing as there was a little crack at the end, which the tall man didn't even notice.

doesn't he love her anymore? how did he not notice that little squeak of her voice? isn't he supposed to know every little thing about his significant half?

"it's okay love," he kissed her head, sniffing a bit of her watermelon shampoo, heart breaking a little more,

"i'll do it. you deserve it." he smiled pecking her lips one last time before disappearing inside the kitchen, the pregnant woman left to stand outside in the cold room.

"love, dinner's ready" he called softly beside the sleeping figure, she answered with a nod, gathering to pull herself up from the couch only to be stopped by a hand coming in front of her eyesight,

she took hold of it reluctantly lifting her and her son up and away from the comfy abode she wished would swallow her up.

'i'm ready' those words were repeating in her mind as she sat silently on her side of their bed waiting patiently and nervously for her hus— draco to finish in the bathroom.

once she heard the sound of a door opening, clicking just as fast as it opened, she spoke

"how could you?" no need to act stupid, be straight and blunt.

"darling? how could i what?" taking a shower was no use, he was already starting to sweat,

"no need to act stupid, draco." was all she said before standing up from her position and packing up her belongings,

maybe it's the hormones, but she does not want to see his face again.

"i'm sorry. i didn't mean to"

flashbacks happened. she was taken back to the time where they first met, the first thing he ever said to her.

anger took over her appearance but just sighed loudly not wanting to pick a fight afraid it'll cause something to their baby.

"please, darling let's talk about this. don't leave. i love you, so so much," he began as tears streamed down his face as he knelt in front of her hugging her legs to keep her from going, bags in hand.

"draco." she sighed, tired. but he wouldn't move, he can't afford to lose her, the love of his life,

"draco, please!" she shoved him away from her legs before it's too late and she forgives him.

"just- just please.. i need time." she stated before going out their bedroom,

"shit!" she exclaimed when her hand accidentally hit a vase, causing it to shatter and make a loud banging noise all throughout the empty, and lonely manor.

ironic isn't it? how her first words are also the last words she'll say to him, leaving him a broken mess,

part 2

#draco malfoy x female reader #draco malfoy masterlist #draco fic #draco x reader smut #drafo malfoy #draco fucking malfoy #draco fanfiction #draco x uou #draco x reader #draco x y/n #draco angst #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy imagine #draco imagine

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burnyouwithacigarettelighter · 3 years

Text

part i, autonomy in your coherence | c.g

With something like time that runs round with the world — ignoring it’s inhabitants and stealing things that you’d hidden away for safekeeping — you’ve taken up the hobby of art, furiously sketching faces that are six-feet under.

The skill is beautiful and horrific all the same, watching like a person with amnesia as the portraits begin to lose their depth, the freshness, the personality that came free with who you’d chosen to print on the page.

You’ve forgotten your feelings for Carl, because he didn’t feel the same.

You just wished you did a better job at it.

WARNINGS: mentions of death, suicide ideation

this is a continuation of watch you burn away and i recommend you read that, first! this is also part of a series, so here is the masterlist if you need it!

(cross-posted on ao3!)

Your father once told you he had a patient that died from heartbreak.

“Your heart can’t really break, though, right?” You’d said. A doctor for a father and a laboratory technician for a mother made you more than aware of things, seeing through the myths and pretty white lies of figures like Santa and the tooth fairy.

(They had gone through with it anyway, because although their child knew, it was a gateway to normality in such a busy home.)

Your father scratched his chin, unsure how to respond. “My patient had died from a broken heart, though the process wasn’t as simple as it’s term name. A broken heart — the nonliteral meaning — can be the cause and the domino toppling to many things that could lead to death.”

“Like what?” You’d said with little admission into the conversation, having been flicking through a novel you’d picked up a while back (which featured a one eyed pirate and his partner who’d ended up dying in the end — not that you knew, yet, at least.)

“I don’t know, er,” Your father swirled his coffee lightly, gesturing wildly with his free hand, “Mental health issues, for one. Erratic actions, depression, a lost sense of self. Obsession.”

“Huh,” You muttered, looking up at your father for the first time. “A lost sense of self? Really?”

“What is your father teaching you?” Your mother said, stepping into the kitchen with a questioning expression. The conversation ended there, without so much as a thought after.

You wish you pried your father for further answers. What you’d give to get the workaholic of a man to dump his duo psychology medical major thoughts unto you with little care.

The knowledge would be gold in your time of need, when pulling and pushing distance further between you was like venturing through a field of thorns.

(Perhaps you just missed your parents. But that couldn’t be it, right? They’d died and you had lived, their blood on your hands and the gun in your fingers, their glazed over eyes and your own that nearly matched, cold and willing without a drop of emotion.)

But you’d gotten through it for him— without him. Without anyone, quietly harboring scratches and bleeding from the field with little effort.

If someone asked, you would tell them with full and honest confidence that you harboured no more attachments. You were a naive teenager, running through your feet and over yourself for something that was just a crush.

Crushes are — in their whole singularity and purpose — temporary.

They are brief, and momentarily something that causes ripples and waves in your thoughts, just the slightest mention or faint sight makes you detour down a road of sickly sweet dreams and fantasies.

He was first love (like? You didn’t love him, no, it was a crush and it was something for the unattainable and the inappropriate — in which with full truth, he was.) so you poured the honey glazed remembrances and rose coloured lenses over your memories, because he was a first love, and you know that those were cracks in the heart, growing vines and constricting the part that was him — the part that’d always, always be there, without a doubt.

(However much you didn’t want it to be.)

The leaves and the venomous flowers that sprout in decaying grooves come with age, and you are older now.

You bear fresh scars that litter your entire being and wear newly buried bones of people who were once not just that, the dirt still sitting in the crevices of your nails, and you seem to forget their voices with each passing day.

More and more, the faces look like reference art rather than a taken from life picture, which was all telling them to sit still and watching their eyes crinkle at the edges when you show them the result, voices echoing and asking if they could have it.

Everyday, as it has become a peevish habit like biting your nails or obsessively reminding yourself your stove is off, you draw pictures of everyone.

If you are close enough with them, you ask the subject to sit and model for you, analyzing every breath and laugh they take when you crack a joke or engage them in meaningless conversation just to see how the light hits their brows when they raise, the shadows pooling in their aging lines.

Everyday, you wish and hope and even fucking pray that their portraits continue to be something of anxious routine, rather than trying to dump their image out of your head and onto paper so you can see their faces one more time.

His image seems to change with each moment he sits in for you, once a face with two piercing blues, then a patch and eyes that looked at the dusty wooden floor, and later, someone who looks at you straight, something that told you he was a survivor, who bore his battles proudly, the scar on the right of his face sitting ruggedly and bewitchingly.

You draw him, exactly the way you see him, and when you show him the picture, he laughs, and says “You made me look too pretty,” and you shake your head, “It’s exactly the way I see you.”

You do her, too, upon request. When she sits, you draw her almost like it was professional, drawing the curvature of her face with exact precision, intense shading, marking the features she holds. The dip in her nose, the straight of her hair.

(You often forget who you’re drawing in these moments, and when you step away from the canvas you’re hit with whiplash. It’s subconscious, the way you do these things to please him, wanting to see so clearly how his face spreads delicately with delight.)

It takes a little while for you to convince Ron. When you first propose the drawing, he gives you a confused face, before walking off to do shooting practice. He’s gotten better with the gun over the years, and doesn’t respond when you tell him you know why.

(His mother didn’t come out of it alive, and his brother didn’t come back without harm. The younger boy was alive, but would grow up with only his brother by his side and one less limb to account for.)

The second time, he makes a snide comment, albeit with no bite, about how ‘you must be a horrible artist, to ask me of all people to model for you.’

The third time, you’ve dragged him to the small office you makeshifted for the drawings in the garage. He studies every slit of paper you’ve ripped out of your book, the unfinished sketches or yet-to-be painted canvases piling up against the walls. Complete works sit proudly on your wall, displayed for the world to see.

His hands hover over the paints sitting on your desk, charcoal, dirt, sticks, paintbrushes, handmade dyes, wallpaper cut-outs.

“Why?” Ron says curiously.

“‘Why?’ what?” You echo, fiddling with a fork you grabbed from the kitchen, splaying out a thick lather combination of beet dye and cement onto your finger to check the consistency.

“Why do you draw these portraits? I get the others because,” He says, leaving the words “because they’re dead” hanging in the air between you two in mutual and regretful acknowledgement, “But you draw these everyday. You drag Carl and Enid off, or just sit on the benches and draw Maggie and Glenn knee-deep in the dirt.”

You sigh a dreadful breath, wiping the rest of the beet-cement mix onto the page with the pad of your fore-finger. “We’ll forget them one day.”

He looks at you, unblinking. The dead, the gone, and the soon to be long forgotten only existed in your memories, in your words, and when the time came that the world had moved on and stopped, they would cease. Their whole memory relied on the living, nothing about them able to reach and grasp life on their own. Memory was all that was left, and it was all you could do to wash away regret.

“And the rest?”

You bite your tongue hesitantly, your movements rigid, “You see their portraits. Everyday they get less and less coherent. When — when time comes , these drawings will be the only thing getting me by.” You whispered.

The ball had dropped. Coping and grief in it’s big and ugly form, preying on your conscious hungrily, taking shelter in your largest worries. Claws sunken in your flesh, the monster was a thing that felt like it would never go away, because it would loom right alongside death itself, watching and waiting for the moment they’d deemed someones time to have been enough.

(It would never be enough. Enough meant they’d pop in from next door and ask to borrow something, enough meant they’d swipe dirt across your face to make you angry — enough meant they would come in everyday and sit for their portrait once more.)

A creaking on the floorboard caught your attention, eyes watching as Ron’s feet walk to the corner of the room, before hopping onto the wooden seat with little effort.

“I’m not going. I never will. But — do it anyway. I’d… like to see how I look on paper.” He said cheekily, picking up a thin pencil off your desk and handing it out to you.

So you did. Seconds turned to minutes and minutes snowballed into hours in the dim lighting of the garage, asking the blond to turn his body, stretch his head and make different expressions, fulfilling and destroying the little worm of worry sitting in your head.

When you’re done with the charcoal, turning it around for Ron to see and to inspect, he asks, “What about you?”

“And what about me?” You say. His questions never make sense without further discussion, but the boy always has to wait for you to pry and ask him to elaborate.

“You don’t have any drawings of yourself. You’re the artist, the photographer, the one who makes these things that will stay longer than the memories and the words — so what about you?”

It’s rare that Ron delves into his emotions and the things he really means, but when he does, it’s something that stays, for a long while.

“I,” You didn’t have an answer for it. You weren’t one to do a self-portrait, it not being the same as having someone to sit and take from. “I don’t want to.” You finished simply, an ice cold realization coming to reality in you.

“Why?” He says the same words as before, but the words hold a heavy weight.

“I don’t know.”

You knew.

Maybe one day, you’d wished that you’d wash away like seafoam on the beach. You wouldn’t leave a single portrait behind of you, and the memories and the words were left mum behind his lips, because you knew how he got in a loss.

Quiet and unfeeling, it was so selfish of you that you’d counted on how he got in that state to leave you behind, neglecting you like the fruits of your memories you’d never get to bear.

Ron’s gaze bore into you like he knew exactly what you were thinking, telepathically taking in every thought you’d conveyed at your dispense.

“You should.” Is all he says, before stepping off the wooden stool and out the door.

What was wrong with you? You feel so… entirely foolish. Obsolete. Embarrassing.

You walked past the remnants of those who were gone everyday, obsessively creating canvas over canvas of them and the only thing you could think was that you’d wish to position yourself beside them?

This world was catching up to you, and fast, but you’d just have to run faster than it could.

#twd #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes #chandler riggs #angst #the walking dead #twd x reader #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead carl #carl grimes x you

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barbatos-the-loyal-butler · 3 years

Note

Can I request the boys being good wingmen for lesbian MC? 👉👈

Of course! Lesbian mc is the most powerful- Mc is a lesbian and use they/them pronouns Join my discord server!

Lucifer

He makes sure that Mc only has the highest standards for partners, he will not set them up with just any one.

Or at least that is what he says, in truth he will be happy to wingman them with just about anyone.

He is a proud demon and is very capable of making Mc feel confident and proud of themselves.

Helping them get the confidence to asks her out, or even help plan a few nice dates for them.

Mammon

Mc: oh, she's kinda cute!

Mammon: oh really? *Slides over to her* Heyyyy have you heard of this amazing human called Mc!

He can be a bit over the top, but he just really just wants to help as much as he can.

It doesn't always help but Mc almost always get a good laugh out of it, and the definite of getting a date it just an add on.

Leviathan

He doesn't know how to be a wingman in the slightest, he will try to help but he can't do it in person.

The most he can do is help from afar, some small confidence boost. He is so nervous that he could barely do much else to help.

He will set up the living room for movie dates if Mc would like, and maybe help Mc set up a dating profile.

Satan

He will pull out a hundred year old romance novels and him and Mc will read them.

Like He ends up help Mc will really old courting technics, if it helps mc or not depends on the women they are interested in.

they both do no try to be chaotic but they very much are.

Satan: What if you impress her by winning against your rival in combat.

Mc: but I don't have a rival...

Satan: It's really easy to find one... I have like 20.

Asmodeus

He is by far the best at this, knows all the best pick up techniques.

Mc just needs to mention a women they are interested in, and he already has a five step plan for them to ask her out, two dates planned for afterwards and all the compliments and confidence boosts they may need.

Though with him double dates will be a thing, he will be a bit pouty if they don't agree but will understand.

Beelzebub

Mc: Oh she's really cute... I think I'm going to ask her out... can you help me?

Beel: okay! *walks up to her* Do you want to go out with Mc?

He is a huge sweetie, and just very straight forward. Their having trouble asking her out, well he will do it for him! They don't know what to do for a date, he'll find a nice restaurant for them to go to.

He just wants Mc to be happy, and whatever they need for that he is happy to do.

Belphegor

Mc: I don't know, I'm nervous to ask her out.. I mean she's so cool

Belphie: You're cooler, stop being nervous and just go tell her.

He isn't the kindest or gentlest with his help, but sometimes thats what you need.

He doesn't really care about details but is always open to help, though he will complain about it.

Lord Diavolo

The instant Mc mentions needing to ask someone out, he already planning an elaborate scheme to get them together.

He's very over the top, but also very supportive.

They have his royal blessing, so can even have romantic evenings in the castle garden.

He may be watching a happily from the bushes, you'll have to ask barbatos to distract him with work so you can have time alone.

Simeon

He is the sweetest angel boi, and is surprisingly good at making Mc feel proud of themselves.

He will be there if they need to get a better understanding of their emotions.

Will be there to help them ask her out if needed, but overall just steps in when he knows Mc needs it.

Barbatos

He is always happy to assist, and will act as a waiter and a chef for any dates Mc may want.

For anything else his abilities to help are a bit lacking, he barely knows about anything romantic relating to himself for anyone else it is nearly impossible.

He will try to offer a few words of encouragement, and wishes Mc luck.

Solomon

Turning to Solomon to be a wingman is always a mistake, he is incapable of not being a little shit when helping.

He will tease Mc through the whole process, but will be able to convince whatever women their interested to go out for at least one date.

Did it cause Mc to be more embarrased then they have ever been before, yes but they got a date which is at least one plus.

Don't blame the wizard man, he can not help but be a pain in the ass. It is in his nature.

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me simeon #obey me barbatos

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gb-patch · 3 years

Text

Ask Answers: July 10th

I really let asks get away from me lately. I was super focused on working on that Patreon Moment. With that done I can finally think about doing other things, so here’s a new collection of answers!

Thank you for sending in questions everyone ^^.

For the new Patreon moment, will you be able to reference it in step 4? Or just like a tiny nod to it if you pick certain choices?

There won’t be. I’m sorry if you were hoping for that! The Patreon moment is meant to be entirely optional, it’s not something that gets you extra content in the main game.

Is the new CG artist the main one now? :0 I’ve noticed theres been a difference in the art style recently. Is the old CG artist still going to make art for the game? :0

The original artist still makes CGs for the game sometimes, but he mainly focuses on character sprites.

Are you going to put the NSFW our life moment on a website other than patreon? I would love to get it but I can't use patreon atm.

I don’t know. I'm afraid we can't release the Patreon Moment on a normal game storefront because we can't mix 18+ content with our family friendly game. If there's some other place similar to Patreon where it's not the normal type of full-scale public content releases we'd consider using that, but I’m not sure if there is another site that’s better than Patreon in that regard. I'm sorry.

Out of curiosity, in all of your games so far, which characters in each were the most fun to write? They obviously don't have to be your favorite characters!

Buffalo Seer in AFA, really everyone in XOD/XOBD is pretty equally entertaining to write, The Guide in LoV, and Cove in OL!

idk if you accept "personal" questions, but is there anything you've been watching/ listening to lately

Mostly, I’ve been watching/listening to Authortube videos as of late! It’s people who talk generally about the process of how books become traditionally published and/or share their own experience as they attempt to be published. I don’t have an interest in writing normal text based books, but it’s really interesting to hear about that world. I’m listening to a video about royalties right now as I answer these asks.

Will one of the desserts we get to pick be fudge? That'd be such a cute reference!

Haha, yeah, it should. Unless I completely blank on it and forget when trying to include the various referential food options.

I don't know if this has been asked previously but what would be the approximate heights for the presets MC can choose from Step 2 ~ 4? Are there any measurement you had in mind? Sorry if I didn't make myself clear kk I've been struggling with my English lately 💀

I don’t know, ahah. I didn’t have any numbers in mind for that. So it’s whatever you imagine it is!

I noticed a bug with the Patreon moment when it comes to what your character wears. When Jamie and Cove are kissing while my character only had dresses selected, I had both the option to remove the dress or to remove the shirt... Picking one of the options to interact with Cove, after he removed his shirt, it had Jamie remove their shirt followed by ther pants despite only having dresses picked.

Thank you for reporting ^^

I keep refreshing steam to see when the new doc for xobd will be released. I noticed you haven't posted anything about it in quite some time. Would it be possible to ask about a timeline/potential date? (If it's even this year—) I know you and your team are probably working super hard, I'm just super curious! ~Thank you!~

There are more stories done, I just haven’t gotten around to publicly releasing them. Hopefully I will have a chance to spend the time on that sooner rather than later!

hello!! i’m not sure if it’s an update but i’ve just replayed our life and at the end i can’t propose to cove anymore? :(( i’ve actually tried playing twice but the options are not there anymore, did you guys remove the options? i’m sorry if you’ve answered this before!! thank you and have a good one :)

I’m afraid things haven’t been changed or removed, so I think you might’ve accidentally picked the wrong things somewhere along the way and locked yourself out of being able to propose by mistake. Sometimes you meant to say you want to get married but instead you mis-click and have it so the MC isn’t thinking about marriage or something. All I can suggest is starting from the beginning of Step 3 and making sure to follow the steps listed in the FAQ. I’m sorry for that.

Did yall remove some of the options for when youre making out with Cove in the charity moment? I could've sworn you could grab his bonkadonk and its not there anymore

This is the same situation as the above. We didn’t remove things and you’re not wrong that there are sometimes those options. But there are various choices you have to make to get those options and it sounds like you accidentally missed something. If your relationship isn’t long-term, you can’t do it for example.

HI IM SO EXCITED I CAN FINALLY GET THE STEP 3 DLC

Thank you for getting it!

Is Shiloh super totally straight bc I’m very gay and a huge Shiloh fan, would my man make an exception?😩

Sadly, he is one of our super straight characters. I’m sorry.

Hi, I have a very dumb question. In Step 2 does Cove not wanna share his drink with us at the mall (or rather why he stops drinking it) because it's an indirect kiss? Or is it like ...weird to him to share? Because if I remember right he eats off our spoon in the birthday scene right?

Yeah, he’s awkward about it because he likes the MC and it feels very personal to share a straw with his crush.

Hi! If you don't mind me asking, who is the artist for OL2? Their style is so pretty!

Thank you for saying so! This is her Twitter- https://twitter.com/redridingheart

Do Beginnings & Always and Now & Forever exist in the same universe?

Yep! XOXO Droplets also exists in the same universe. It’s one big GB Patch world, haha.

Do Pran's parents regret the way they raised him? Do they feel ashamed of it?

No. They’re the type of people best cut out because they’re not gonna change. Which is why Pran does go very limited contact when he’s an adult.

Hi! I just wrapped up my second playthrough of Our Life, and I absolutely adore it, but I had a question. I went to the gallery and found I was missing 2 CGS (specifically Step 1-3 and 2-3) and I had no clue where they would've shown up. Which moments are those found in?

You get it by telling Cove about his dad offering you money to be his friend in Step 1 and Step 2. You can’t get both in one playthrough, since you can only tell Cove the truth once. I’m really glad you liked it!

Hi hi! Please, how tall is Baxter and Derek? Love the game so much and I can't wait to see more!

I don’t know, aha. I think Baxter was around 5′10 and Derek was like 5′8/5′9, maybe. I really am not one who has specific heights for things in mind.

is adult cove a bottom, top, or switch?

A switch, though would choose the top if he had to pick.

I was wondering if there is a way to transfer save data? Even if through the game files. I wanted to be able to transfer my save data from my desktop over to my laptop so that I could continue playing right where I left off from but I'm not entirely sure how to go about that.

If you save the save folder/persistent data of the game from your desktop and put it into the game folder on your other device, that could work.

Hi! Is it possible for us to know the date when our life: now and forever comes out on steam? Sorry if you've mentioned it before but I haven't seen it and I'm looking foward to that happening and just wanted to know :)

It’s gonna be a long time, I’m afraid. There’s no estimate right now.

I started playing Our Life with my sister a while ago, and I think you guys should know that we discovered your secret. >:)

L from death note and Cove are clearly the same person, and this whole game is just an origin story!!

I’ve never seen that show so I’m sorry to say I don’t understand the connection/reference you’re trying to make. I’m pretty out of the loop when it comes to media. I don’t watch movies or TV.

Will OL2 have options for disabled MCs?

I understand if it's too complicated, just curious

Unfortunately, it’s not really something we have a plan for. We couldn’t finish the game if we tried to include every disability and have it be meaningful. It’d just be too much content to create. But if we decide to only include a few, how would we choose which disabilities get to be represented and which are left out? I don’t know. It’ll probably have to be something we don’t include as an option again, sadly. I’m sorry.

playing our life > anything else

Haha, I’m glad you’re enjoying it.

Honestly, I would like to thank Our Life for helping me come to terms with my sexuality. Before, I never would've actually thought that it was possible to like boys romantically and still be asexual. Almost all of the BL visual novels I've read had unskippable sexual content in them and it honestly just didn't click with what I feel. I'm glad I found Our Life. I love the game, the developers, and this fandom so much. Now, I can safely come out as homoromantic AND asexual (at least anonymously here anyway; my parents are still huge homophobes 😂).

Aw, it’s great to hear you felt comfortable being yourself in the game! That’s wonderful. I’m really sorry about your parents, though.

Will the demo for OL2 be on android? Really not sure if I could wait any longer than I have to aha

Yeah, it’ll be available for Android once we eventually release a demo!

Do all these reveals perhaps mean development is progressing ahead of schedule? Please let that be the case I'm already obsessed with Qiu

No, sorry, aha. Art comes along much faster than script/programming-work for us. It’s gonna be a long time before the game is a finished thing you can actually play. But at least we can look at the beautiful images.

Hey! First of all I wanna say I reallllllyyyyy loooovvveeee Our Life and XOXO Droplets! I have over 300 hours of playtime on Our Life… Anyways, I was just wondering, are the Derek and Baxter DLCs going to come out at the same time? If not, which one do you plan to release first? :3

They will come out separately and Derek will be first! Glad you like the game.

I keep replaying Our Life to get every possible iteration and I am loving it <3 I was wondering if Cove gets locked out of his confession because MC was talking to Lee, would it be possible to confess to him in step 4?

Yeah, you can avoid the confession in Step 3 and then get it in Step 4.

Hi, my Cove wears bracelets through step 2 and 3 but I still don't get an option to give him a bracelet? I didn't even know that was possible until I seen someone else ask about it lol

Hm, did you use the Cove creator? Maybe there’s a bug where using the creator to add bracelets doesn’t fulfill the requirement to give Cove a bracelet in Step 3.

Wait, I'm dense, when does Baxter appear in step 2? Is it from big park firework? I feel so bad since i really love Baxter and waiting to buy his dlc.

It’s in the Soiree Moment. You have to be just friends with Cove, indifferent, or crushing but not ask Cove to the dance at all. Then while there you can find someone new to dance with. But if you bring Cove to the dance while crushing, the MC won’t wanna dance with anyone else so you can’t get the scene.

In step 2 when we go to the soiree I made my mc go alone and baxter chooses the mc to dance, i'm curious, why did he pick the mc? sorry if this has been asked before!

Because the MC looked to be around his age, seemed to also be searching for a partner, and had nice legs. A perfect option for him.

I read some of the FAQs, and I saw that we could tell Baxter about the condo that he rented there was previously the mean old grandparents. how do we get the mc to tell him that?

It happens in the DLC Moment “Late Shift”. If you don’t have a job you instead get a longer scene with Baxter.

I don’t know if you’ve addressed this or not, but are you planning on paying voice actors for our life: now and forever?

Yeah, we pay our VAs in all our projects.

hey can i ask how you did the moments thing in ol? im trying to get into making visual novels and while im VERY sure its out of my comfort zone and all that atm i kinda wanna know just for the future, bc im p sure it would work well for something i wanna do :O but its also fine if you cant say for other reasons :>

I’m afraid I’m not sure what you mean. Are you asking how we programmed the screen or something script related? Adding Moments like that is pretty straightforward, though. You just have buttons that open to different labels and then the scripts are essentially individual short stories/vignettes. Good luck with your VN!

Since Autumn becomes gender fluid later in the game, will there be a character who remains as he/him to romance in game?

OL1 has the he/him LIs, OL2 is all about other genders.

I don't want to impose on your creative plans, but a parrot could possibly make a good pet in an OL-type game? They're pretty long-lived and likely to still be thriving by the end even if the MC got them back in step 1.

I do appreciate the suggestion, but I’m afraid it’s not likely going to happen. I understand there are technically some animals that could theoretically live long enough to last the whole game that or we could have the MC only get a pet after some years have already passed. But the many things that would have to be considered/accommodated for makes it just something we probably can’t manage adding. I’m sorry.

As time passes will we be able to see Qiu and Tamarack's other stage arts as well?

They are both so cute i can't wait to be friends with them!

Yeah, we’ll show content from other Steps in the future. It’ll be a little while from now, though.

Can you date Cove and still have your family comfort you in the car?

You can’t get Cove’s Step 3 confession scene if you have the family comfort you in the car. But that’s not the only way to date him. You can get together with him earlier in the game or later on in Step 4.

Is Mc always going to be the one walking down the aisle or could Cove do it? Also could you choose to have one of your moms walk you?

No. Cove wouldn’t want to walk down the aisle like that and the MC automatically respects that. And the MC also gets to have their preferences respected, so it’s up to you whether they want to do an aisle walk or not. You also can pick who, if anyone, walks with you.

Once step 4 is out, will you be able to go the whole game on crush/love without either of you confessing?

Yes, as long as you tell the game you don’t want to progress the relationship. Even in Step 4 it won’t force you to officially get together.

Howdy, so in Step 4, there will be any Romance with Derek that is not part of any dlc?

He’s only a friend unless you get his romance story.

Will the step 4 in OL2 be one big step or are you considering moments?

Step 4 is just an epilogue in both games.

hi kind of a weird question but!! we know tht cliff doesn't start dating again but. wht abt flings? like does he ever do 1 night stands or anything? thank u!!!!!!!!!!!!

Nope. Cliff has a very small interest in sex. If he’s not in a real relationship with a partner he’s crazy about it simply isn’t something he feels a need for, so one night stands wouldn’t even cross his mind.

sorry if you've already answered this, but i was wondering if there were plans for there to be bonus love interests in OL2 like how we have derek and baxter in OL1.

Maybe! There are side characters who could be given romance stories, but whether or not it will happen depends on funding and how long everything else takes to finish.

I don't know if i'm allowed to ask about ol2 here yet, if not u can ignore this or answer it later. My question is can you date one of them and be good friends with the other? I don't want to be strangers with the other bcs i love them both a lot :<

Yes you can!

what patreon level do i have to be to unlock the nsfw moment? im on the $5 one right now, will that give me access to the moment, or just access to the moment progress?

That’ll give you access! Tier 2 and anything higher allows the player to download it.

#our life #ask #gb patch #gb patch games #all projects #Our Life Beginnings & Always #Our Life: Now & Forever

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parkers-gal · 4 years

Note

maybe a cute little blurb about tom and the reader announcing they’re engaged to their parents/families?

enjoyyy :)

requests are open

wc: 1.5k (sorry, went overboard with this)

—

Tom gave you no option, really. You had no choice but to love him, to fall for him as hard as you did. Oftentimes, you thought about how inevitable it was, how inevitable he was. You knew his trap was inescapable, but you were too exhilarated, too thrilled with the idea of being his, that you let him trip you. You let him, let him trip you until you fell hard.

If Tom had fallen any harder, he was positive he’d break his nose for the fourth time in five years. But no, he definitely fell, but he didn’t hit rock bottom. He’d fallen for you, and that was the scariest thing in the entire world to him — losing you, falling so hard and fearing if you’d leave. He knew if you did leave, he’d never recover, never truly live the same way.

So he’s asking for you to be his, for forever. Granted, forever is a long time, and that’s almost what Tom loves most about it. He loves calling you his, knowing you’re connected at the hip, in the mind, with your hearts. But he also loves having the security of everyone else knowing it, too.

You love it too — you love what the ring symbolizes. Your Tiffany & Co. ring, a dashing 1.27 carats. You love Tom, and the way his mind works — he didn’t go the traditional route in getting your parents’ blessing and buying a ring. Instead, he’d asked you casually.

“Hey, love.” Tom walks into the kitchen, sitting on the counter beside the stove where you’re heating the kettle for some tea.

“What’s up, baby?”

“Do you… wanna go shopping today?”

“For what?”

“A ring.”

You freeze, glancing up at him with shocked eyes, eyes full with pleasant surprise.

“A ring?”

“For… you. For us- for… marriage?”

“Tommy…” You lean back, mouth open slightly. You can feel tears starting to form, starting to wet your eyes. It’s love — you can feel it — it’s love that’s wetting your eyes, your cheeks, your face. It’s love that causes these happy tears. “What’re you saying?”

“I’m saying…” He jumps off the counter, grabbing both of your hands after coming closer to you, filling up the space between you and him. “That I want you to be mine for… the rest of my life.”

“Tom,” You pout. “I don’t know what to say.”

“That you’ll let me?” His eyes are more hopeful than they’ve ever been in his entire life. Even more so than when he’d auditioned for Spider-man. He’s practically on his knees for you, sacrificing his heart in return for yours. “That you’ll let me be yours?”

You break into a smile, arms wrapping around his neck, lips by his ear as you whisper your response, feverishly and softly and passionately. “Of course, I’ll let you. You’ve always been mine.”

That day, the two of you went into Tiffany & Co. together, pointing at the jewels and bands and accessories with smiles wider than the Grand Canyon. You had a feeling, later on, that perhaps every store worker was watching the two of you, watching your love bounce off the walls of the fancy shop. They were watching you with jealous eyes, with proud eyes, that you were taking this large step together, and decided to include them in just a small piece of your journey together.

It’s been a month since then, and for the first time ever, you’re wearing your ring out in public. You’re having dinner with Tom’s family and your own family. It’s your parents’ anniversary — at least, last week it was, but they decided to celebrate with connected family later on — which means close family is gathering for a small dinner party.

“Don’t get cold feet on me.” Tom’s chin rests in the crook of your neck as he hugs you from behind. You’re looking in the full-length body mirror, adjusting your clothes as you slip the engagement ring on your finger like you’ve done so many times when you’re alone.

“Never, Tommy.” You return his smile, turning around in his arms and leaning to give him a soft kiss. It’s not a peck, but it’s not messy — it’s passionate and intimate and everything you’ve ever wanted. It’s what you’ve dreamed of, fantasized, read in every romance novel you could get your hands on.

It’s easy, being in love with Tom. It’s the easiest thing you’ve ever done and the most difficult thing in the world. It’s hard when everybody wants to be in your place, when everybody wants to be his. But it’s easy, knowing that he’d never trade his place for anything in the universe. If he’s not by your side, then he’s betrayed everything he’s ever told himself.

He’s complete by your side. That’s cliche, and even he knows it, but nothing has ever felt so true to him. Nothing has ever felt so right.

You lock the front door, holding your potato quiche with two hands as you make your way to the car. Tom sets the gift bag in the backseat before opening the passenger for you. You smile, thanking him, and he steals a cheek kiss before closing the door. You chuckle, setting the quiche on your lap as you buckle your seat belt. He does the same, buckling his seatbelt and shifting the gear, leaving the driveway before offering you his hand.

You accept it, interlocking your fingers. He blushes at the gesture, giddy inside. There’s something so intimate about affection in an act as simple as driving or even cleaning the dishes. There’s something so knee weakening about needing to feel someone against your skin in the simplest of acts. Against your skin in a raw way that isn’t animalistic, passionate yet not feverishly or greedy. There’s something so butterfly-provoking about displays of love in settings that aren’t even romantic.

It’s suffocating yet addicting at the same time. He’s addicting, but not as much as you.

As you get closer to the front door of the Holland household, you find yourself covering your hands with the sleeves of your hoodie. As you enter the house, you’re too caught up in greetings and hugs and food and people to realize you haven’t let the piece of jewelry show.

Dinner hasn’t even been served yet and you’re already growing hot and sweaty. You’re sipping wine, leaning against the fireplace with Tom’s arm around your waist. He’s calmly sipping beer, fingers ever present on your skin. As he leaves yet another kiss against the underside of your ear, you feel urged to ask to make the announcement now, rather than during dessert.

“Can we… tell them now?”

“Really?” He pauses his latest kiss against your neck, whispering back to you. When you nod, he smiles and mirrors your headshake. “May I take your jacket then, kind lady?” He puts on a Victorian accent and you giggle.

“If you insist.”

As your arms are stripped of the hoodie, you hand it off to him for safekeeping in the coat closet. When he returns to your side, your hands are behind your back, waiting for Tom to gather everyone’s attention.

“Hey, everyone, there’s uh- there’s something we’d like to talk about with everyone.”

As Harry raises a brow, he makes eye contact with his twin who hollers for Nikki to come in from the kitchen for a moment. Your parents are bewildered, as is your sister and Harrison.

With a final look at Tom, you smile as Nikki settles onto the arm of a chair Dominic is sitting in. You hold up your left hand, proudly showing off the newest ring to your collection. Your mom gasps first, and Nikki stands up quickly when she realizes what she’s seeing.

Paddy looks at Tom for positivity on what this means, and he can only smirk with a blush brighter than the star he named after you. All in a matter of seconds, your mothers are running towards you, Harrison and Sam and Harry screaming in excitement, in congratulations. Tom is hugging your father, shaking his hand nervously.

Your sister is next to see you, pulling you into her embrace with a teary smile and happy eyes. “You’re… gonna be married.”

You laugh, nodding as you try not to cry too. “Yeah.”

“So he’s the one, huh?”

“Yeah,” You eye Tom, who’s talking to your mother and your sister’s husband. “He’s… the only one.”

When you turn your head back in your sister’s direction, she’s looking at you with soft eyes and an adoring smile. You try not to get flustered, but when you look at Tom again, he’s looking at you already, all the way from across the living room.

He’s smiling in a way he never has before, looking at you as if you’re the only person he’s ever laid eyes on. Goosebumps raise on your skin, a chill sent straight up your spine, and suddenly, you know you’re meant to do this for the rest of your life.

#husband!tom hollland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfic #tom holland imagine #tom holland oneshot #tom holland blurb #tom holland fluff #tom holland fluffy #tom holland angst #tom holland #tom holland x y/n

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years

Text

Love, Theoretically | Sebastian Stan x reader (Chapter 7)

(chapter 1) (chapter 2) (chapter 3) (chapter 4) (chapter 5) (chapter 6)

series summary: having lost your husband, sister, and best friend all to the same extramarital affair, you ran away to a secluded villa in the Hungarian countryside to write and get a little time away from the life you’d left behind. you were only looking for peace and perhaps some inspiration for your novel, but instead you found an unlikely connection with the immigrant repairman-- even though the two of you don’t speak the same language.

word count: almost 3k?

warnings: slight breeding kink (but only if you speak romanian aksjghakgjhg), angst, violence (in the form of a fistfight, which the reader isn’t involved in)

Just as you always did, you woke up to sunlight streaming in through the lace curtains, and a cool breeze blowing by. What was peculiar was Sebastian next to you, sleeping peacefully as his chest rose and fell with relaxed breaths. You let yourself watch him for a moment before you decided to try to sneak out for a cup of coffee. Problem was, the bed was sort of creaky and it was very difficult to move without making sound. Your plan was to move as slowly as possible, keeping your weight evenly distributed over the mattress, and it worked rather well— right until the last second, of course, when a loud shift of the boxsprings beneath you made Sebastian stir and blink open his eyes.

You were about to apologize for waking him, but he grinned and slipped his arms around you, bringing you back to where you started and surrounding your body with his warm, muscular form.

“Bună dimineata,” he hummed as he pulled you closer, his voice even deeper and more gravelly than normal.

“Bună dimineata,” you did your best to repeat it back, making him smile even though your pronunciation wasn’t great. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” he replied softly, heavily accented and clearly more a recreation of the sounds you’d made than real English, but still intelligible and so painfully adorable as well. “A fost uimitor aseară.”

“Last night…” you began, but you didn’t even know where to begin. What could you possibly say about that? Would it even matter, if he can’t understand it. “God, you’re fucking amazing,” you blurted out with a soft laugh.

“Sa o facem din nou,” he growled as he pulled you closer and kissed you, slipping his tongue into your mouth instantly. A more self-conscious you— as in, you yesterday— would’ve worried about morning breath, but you now couldn’t taste anything but him and couldn’t feel anything but his lips on yours and couldn’t do anything but weave your fingers into his hair.

You moaned when his kisses trailed down your neck, and you wanted nothing more than to melt into his body one more time, but you had other things to attend to.

“I need to get up,” you announced as you tried to escape from his grasp, but he held you tighter and brushed his lips over your shoulder.

“Nu, nu, nu te dice,” he cooed, making you laugh and squirm. “Stai in pat, fă dragoste cu mine toata ziuă.”

“I have to get up, I’ll be right back,” you tried to explain but he stayed ever vigilant as he held you tight and licked over the shell of your ear. Finally you managed to get him to stop, as much as you didn’t really want him to, allowing you to slip out from under the covers and find your robe where it had been discarded on the floor.

He watched you as you crossed the room and popped into the bathroom for your bag, pulling your birth control pack out of it and using a handful of tap water to wash down your morning pill. “Ah,” Sebastian seemed to have a realization from the bed, and you giggled.

“Told you it was important,” you grinned.

“Probabil cel mai bine să nu ai un copil cu un străin,” he nodded, “dar nu sunt sigur că m-ar fi deranjat atât de mult dacă te-aș fi însărcinat.”

Following suit, he stretched briefly before getting out of bed and searching for his discarded jeans and boxers. You made no effort to hide your ogling as you watched his cock swing between his legs. Even soft it was thick enough that you couldn’t figure how it ever fit inside you (the delightful soreness between your legs reminded you that it was no easy feat). He took note of your staring and grinned devilishly, leaning against the wall to give you a better look. “Îți place ce vezi?” he purred.

“Should’ve known this would all go straight to your ego,” you chuckled. “I’m gonna go downstairs for some coffee. Do you want some? Cafea?”

“Da,” he nodded, as he slipped his clothes back on, “mulțumesc.” Funny how his idea of getting dressed still left him half-naked.

Foolishly, you expected him to let you pass, since you were both going to benefit from your trip to the kitchen; but of course he had to slip his arms around you from behind and give you just one more embrace, making you sigh and relax your head back against his shoulder. He kissed the top of your head and you hummed happily, letting your eyes open to look up at him before taking a moment to look out the window you happened to be standing right beside.

You were just hoping to appreciate the countryside scenery, meaning that you were rather shocked and confused to see a car pulling up. When it stopped and the driver stepped out, your eyes went wide and your back suddenly straightened itself.

“...Michael?” you gasped. You wrenched yourself out of Sebastian’s grasp and started to run down the stairs. He called after you but you ignored it.

Barreling down the stairs and out the door, you found your husband walking up the driveway.

“Honey,” he frowned when he saw you, “I’ve been trying to find you since you left— what the hell is going on? Why are you wearing a robe?”

“It’s hardly nine in the morning,” you defended before you realized there were much bigger topics at hand: “Michael, what are you doing here?” you asked, after a few seconds of confused stuttering.

“I’m taking you home!” he replied, as if it were obvious.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, “don’t play stupid. Do you think I’ve been here against my will, or by accident or something?”

“No, I saw your letter,” he sighed.

“And you saw the part where I said not to look for me, and that all future communication would come through my lawyer?”

“You’re my wife,” he replied coldly, “I think I’m within my rights to talk to you directly.”

“You shouldn’t have come here. I was actually happy before you showed up.”

With perfect timing, Sebastian stepped out the door behind you, looking to you and to Michael, and back. “Ce se întâmplă?” he asked you.

“Who the fuck is this?!” Michael asked accusingly.

“I’m gonna give you a chance to ask me that again, in a way that doesn’t make it seem like you have any place to judge what I might be doing alone with a man,” you hissed. “He’s just the groundskeeper, Mike.”

“Then why is he shirtless?” he exclaimed.

“I don’t know! He… does that a lot!” you exasperatedly shouted back.

“Look, I’m not angry,” Michael sighed. You laughed bitterly.

“Good, cause you have no right to be.”

“But I think it’s fair if I’m worried about you spending months alone with strange men.”

“Oh, strange, is that the problem? Strangeness? Would some more familiarity— perhaps a familial relationship— between you and these men make it easier on you, Mike?”

“Honey, please—”

“Don’t call me that,” you grimaced.

Michael stormed towards you, and you felt Sebastian step closer to you as well, wrapping an arm around you. Having him by your side made this significantly more awkward, but it made you feel safer, too.

“Hey man, get your hands off my wife,” Michael growled, pointing a finger at Seb.

“He doesn’t speak English,” you rolled your eyes.

“Well, I’m not sure you do either— otherwise you would realize that we’re still married, and you need to come home.”

“Just because you won’t sign the papers doesn’t mean we’re still together,” you reminded him sternly as shook your head.

“I’ll end it with your sister, is that what you want?”

You laughed, because you were afraid if you didn’t that you would cry. “Jesus, Michael! Are you hearing yourself? This sounds like a greek tragedy, or fucking EastEnders! Next I’ll be discovering I have an evil twin, and you’ll bang her too!”

He was a lot more offended by that than you expected. “It was never just sex. I love her. But I love you more,” he clarified, suddenly getting serious.

You chuckled weakly, hardly believing what you were hearing. It’s not that he was ever particularly nice, or romantic or anything, but at some point in his life he had been incredibly intelligent… and now he barely made sense at all. “Wow, you sure do know how to make a girl feel special.”

He frowned, clearly losing what little cool he’d had at first. He had always had a bit of a temper. “For better or for worse, we’re still legally married— damn it, we’ve been together for how long now? And you’re ready to throw that all away?”

“No, but you were,” you spat back.

“But I wasn’t, and I’m still not. You’ve gotta hear me out—”

“I don’t have to do anything—”

“No, you’re not listening to me—” he talked over you, again.

“I don’t owe you any more of my time—”

“Damn it, why won’t you just listen!” he growled, grabbing you by the arm suddenly. Instantly, Sebastian stepped forward and pushed him back.

“Sebastian, it’s okay,” you tried to soothe him.

“Hey, could you maybe tell your boytoy to keep his filthy hands off me?” Michael demanded at the same time.

“Mai bine ai grijă,” Sebastian hissed, also at the same time.

“I literally can’t,” you answered Michael. “I told you he doesn’t speak English.”

“Yeah, well, I think some things transcend language,” Michael bit back. “Tell me something, pal,” he addressed Sebastian, “did you fuck my wife?”

“Sper că nu spui ce cred că ești,” Sebastian shook his head, clearly on the end of his rope.

“Mike, leave him alone,” you demanded, but it came out sounding so much weaker than you meant it to.

“Did you,” Michael pointed to Sebastian, going so far as to poke him in the chest condescendingly, “fuck—” he mimed thrusting his hips, and you grimaced— “my wife?”— finally, he pointed to you.

Sebastian certainly understood that; and, in lieu of an answer, he socked Michael right in the jaw and sent him straight to the ground.

“Oh my god!” you yelped, dashing over to where your husband was crumpled into a ball on the gravel and kneeling beside him.

“What the fuck?!” Michael gurgled, holding his face in shock and pain.

“Are you okay?” you asked anxiously, spinning to look at where Sebastian was standing and looking much too proud of himself, shaking out the hand he’d just hit Michael with. “Sebastian!” you scolded, making him give you a defensive look.

“Ce?” he shrugged flippantly, though he clearly felt a little guilty when it became obvious that you were irritated with him.

And that was how you ended up here, standing in the living room and tapping your foot quickly, staring at the couch where Michael sat with a bag of ice held to his jaw, Sebastian beside him (though as far away as possible) resting with another on his hand.

“You had no business coming here,” you informed your husband coldly.

“You wouldn’t know about this place if it weren’t for me,” he reminded you. “Did you think I wouldn’t find you?”

“I thought you wouldn’t care,” you corrected.

His silence was stern, and he gave you one of those looks that used to scare you but now just made loathing and pity sink down in your chest. It was ambiguous if he was too angry to reply or if he really had no defense. After all, what reason did you have to believe that he would care about your leaving?

"If you're here to make me rescind the divorce order, it's not going to happen. I'm not leaving with you. I'm not forgiving you. Please just go," you sighed.

"That's not why I came. None of that is why I'm here," he mumbled. "I came here…" he straightened up slightly, raising his voice confidently. "I came here to tell you that I love you. I need you. And I want you back."

Now that he was looking right back at you, suddenly you couldn't take it anymore and turned your gaze away again.

"Whatever you need me to do to fix this, I'll do it. We'll get through this. Isn't that what marriage is? Fighting for each other, struggling together?" He stood up and approached you, reaching out to rest his hands on your shoulders; you almost flinched when you felt his touch, but resisted the urge, glancing up at his face before looking over at Sebastian whose injured hand was twitching as he looked away with a tight jaw. "Tell me how to make this right, please."

You tried not to look as Sebastian as you processed Michael's request; similarly, it seemed he was trying not to look at you. But even if you ignored this new, peculiar romance in your life, your marriage was still broken beyond repair and you couldn't imagine anything that could change that. "I'm sorry," you finally whispered, watching Michael's face fall, "I don't think there's anything you can do."

He released you from his grip, less angry than you expected; more somber. "I want to stay and work this out," he explained. "Better yet, I want you to come back to London— come back home— so we can be together and discuss everything there. But I'm only going to ask you one more time before I leave: stay with me. You don't need to forgive me, or even love me again, at least not yet… just give me a chance to try to earn everything I took for granted."

You'd imagined this moment so many times: cursing him out, making him grovel, kicking him to the curb. To be completely honest, you'd even imagined potentially taking him back. But now that you were here and it was, somehow, real, your desire for vengeance was fading along with your desire for reconciliation.

"I have something I need to give you," you whispered, walking upstairs and going back into your room, getting on your hands and knees to search the floor. Finally, discarded in a dusty corner with slightly uneven floorboards, you found the ring you'd tossed aside the night before. Fighting back against the tears welling in your eyes, you picked it up and came downstairs, holding it outward for Michael to take.

"I'm not taking that back," he refused, shaking his head. "You keep it for a while longer, until you're sure this is really what you want."

"I'm sure. I'm moving on. Take it back," you demanded. He sighed but reached out and plucked it from between your fingers, pocketing it though still wearing his own golden band. "Besides, my sister might want it."

He scoffed, turning as he began to walk away. "You're cold."

"Frozen solid," you agreed. "Goodbye, Michael… drive safe."

He shook his head and made a sharp exhale as he walked away, nearly slamming the door behind him. You stared off into space as Sebastian silently watched you; you didn’t want him to see you cry, but it was starting to seem unavoidable as your lip quivered and your eyes grew wide with tears.

“Shhh,” he soothed gently, standing up and stepping forward to pull you into his arms. “Nu plânge, e în regulă.”

"God, I'm so stupid," you whispered between sobs muffled against his chest. "I'm so fucking stupid…"

He whispered to you and kissed the top of your head, repeating one thing over and over that you couldn't make out well against the sound of your own crying filling your ears.

But even without knowing what he was saying or what it meant, it made you feel better.

As evening approached, you realized a new predicament had arisen: would Sebastian stay in your room again? Would you go to his? Or would you sleep separately, maybe even drift back to just being essentially housemates after a unique one-night stand?

Your questions were answered suddenly when Sebastian suddenly came to the couch and scooped you up into his arms, making you squeal a little before you relaxed and let him carry you to his room. He all but threw you onto the bed, climbing on top of you and kissing you deeply as you reached up to wrap your arms around his neck.

Already you felt more comfortable with him than you sometimes felt with people you'd known most of your life; you didn't feel self-conscious when he ran his hands over your body, you didn't try to suppress your moans when he kissed your neck for fear of sounding ridiculous— and maybe that was just because it was such a fantastical situation, so unlike yourself and so far from home, that it was easy to feel like a different person with him.

Or maybe it was that you'd spent so long trying to be somebody that people liked, and now you were being yourself for the first time in decades.

You couldn't really be sure. And since your brain short-circuited every time Sebastian whispered something in your ear that just sounded filthy regardless of what it actually meant, you didn't have the time to think about it.

#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan au #sebastian stan fanfic

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keanureevesisbae · 3 years

Text

sugar sugar - april.

Summary: Henry is a man of many talents and Becky finds out another: book editor

Sugar Daddy!Henry Cavill x Becky Kim (asian OFC)

Warnings: There is a brief mention of daddy and anal (but not in the way you think, i promse 😂) and some period things.

Wordcount: 6k

A/N: I managed to edit this chapter, so here it is! I hope you enjoy. Also, @thelastsock thank you for helping me out! My non native English ass is very grateful for your input 😘

Masterlist // Sugar Sugar Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

April 4th 4 p.m.

The End.

As soon as I have written down those words, that means it’s done.

I finished my book.

I have yet to title it, but there are more than 80.000 words in this document, all containing the mysteries of the story I have been envisioning for so long. I wrote—if I may say so myself—quite the compelling YA mystery novel that has been living its own life in my mind for years.

I press save and lean back in my chair when I closed my laptop.

Of course I absorbed myself with the best tips on how to write a novel, but I broke a prominent one. One that I found on almost every single author platform: don’t edit while writing.

Thankfully, my rebel move allowed me to actually be satisfied with what I wrote on the first go. Because I kept perfecting each chapter after I wrote it, I continued to be in the right mindset for that chapter. That way, I wrote out what I initially wanted in the first try and I got it right when I went through it once or twice.

While my first initial next step is to send it off to a publisher straight away, I manage to restrain myself. I should show it to someone else first, get their input on it.

Genevieve hates these types of books, Viola is working on her thesis and probably doesn’t have time for this either, meaning that there is only one person left who I trust with my written words.

Henry.

After what happened to us last month, I’m sort of over my hurt and disappointment and thankfully we are back into our normal routines.

Do I still think about his gracious dick? Yes, absolutely. Do I dream about him completely ravishing me at night? All the damn time. Did Genevieve pull me into a sex shop so I had to point out the dildo that resembles Henry the most? Yep, that sure happened.

But I decided to be the bigger person here, the wise one and instead of sulking about the fact that Henry and I will probably never do this again ever, I should appreciate the fact that he felt safe enough for him to be honest with me.

However, there is still one thing that continues to run through my mind.

How long has it been for him since any of this happened? He told me on my birthday it was fifteen years ago since he last had a date. But did he ever date before that? And maybe this is shallow of me to think, but doesn’t he have needs?

Did he—for example—pay women to have sex with him? I feel like many women would do it for free honestly.

I know I would.

I push those thoughts aside and I grab my laptop as I walk towards the elevators. I barely had anything to do at the archives today and I work on my book a lot during those empty moments.

I know Henry doesn’t have any appointments right now (I have his schedule synchronized with mine, so I know when I can bother him with my presence), therefore walking up to his office, shouldn’t be a problem now.

I scan my pass and when I walk into the office after the elevator doors slid open, I see he is busy at work at his desk. Maybe he doesn’t have meetings, but he still is a business man, who has plenty to do. ‘I can come back later,’ I say, already stepping back in the elevator.

‘Nonsense, baby,’ Henry says. He looks up and smiles. ‘Come in.’

Of course I thought about calling him ‘daddy’, to see what his reaction would be. Sometimes there is a moment where I feel like that would be such a perfect moment to do so, but I simply can’t, especially because I know that it’s a pretty risky move to do without telling him.

Besides, what if he doesn’t want me to do that anymore?

I feel like our arrangement would be out of the window in no time.

I walk over to him and sit on his desk when he cleared the spot for me. ‘I finished my book,’ I say, placing my laptop on the wooden top. ‘And I kinda want you to read it.’

Henry’s eyes light up. ‘Congratulations,’ he says with a smile, ‘and about time that you are allowing me to read it.’

I roll my eyes. ‘I can still take it back, of course.’

‘No, no, no,’ he says with a chuckle. ‘I’d love to read it. I’d be honored even.’

I nod, as I look at my hands. ‘It’s just that I never had someone read anything of mine. Actually, this is the first time that I put anything on paper. Maybe I suck as a writer and then—’

‘No, don’t go there,’ he says, with a determination I can’t compete with. ‘I’ll be kind and provide you with constructive feedback. Do you want to print it out?’

‘It’s a lot of paper, Henry.’ Do I even hear myself? I let out a chuckle. ‘Like it matters. I’m sorry, that was pre arrangement Becky speaking.’

He smiles. ‘You can print it out here. There is enough ink in it.’

Henry helps me find the right printer and while the machine is working on the entire manuscript, he leans back in his office chair. ‘You have plans for tonight?’

‘I’m hanging out with Genevieve and Viola,’ I answer. ‘I think we’re going for a late night picnic.’

‘Nice. You want the driver?’

Yes, please. ‘Maybe.’

‘Is something on your mind, sweetheart?’ he asks. ‘You look a bit worried.’

‘It’s just that I’m getting in my head. Worrying about how you will hate my book and that you will regret that you ever gave me the laptop and… I don’t know.’

He gets up and stands in between my legs, placing his hands next to my thighs. It’s the first time he stands in front of me like that. I want to hook my ankles behind him, do all sorts of nasty things, but I manage to pull myself together. ‘It can be scary to let someone in on your creative work,’ he says. ‘I remember when I first showed my grandmother my design for a different type of computer. I knew she would love what I designed, but… Her opinion mattered so much to me. She paid for the supplies I needed, she always supported me, what if I sucked at it?’

It’s the first time he tells me a story like that, without me having to ask for it. I place my hands on his shoulders and ask: ‘What did she think of it?’

‘She loved it,’ he says, a smile of reminiscent on his lips. ‘She thought I was talented and actually gave me the right feedback to improve.’

‘Meaning you’ll do the same?’

He nods. ‘Exactly.’

‘Henry,’ I start, as I play with his collar. I love you a lot and I want us to put this whole sugar daddy/baby thing aside and actually get into a real relationship with each other. While I am not sure if you are up for it, I do think that you are actually considering it. There are things you do and say that make me doubt everything and it’s driving me nuts. I love you and only you. ‘Thank you for being so supportive and understanding.’

‘Of course, baby.’ He wraps his arms around me, places his chin on top of my head and lets out a content sigh. ‘Always.’

✤ ✤ ✤

‘He still hasn’t confessed his undying love for you?’ Genevieve takes a sip of her beer, shakes her head and adds: ‘That’s so fucking weird. I was and still am convinced he is into you.’

‘You and me both,’ Viola says.

I groan. ‘It’s just that he is so irresistible now. I was aware he was handsome and kind, but now… He turns hotter with the second and is even more desirable. Even when it’s obvious that he doesn’t want me.’

‘It’s weird,’ Viola says, ‘but I kinda understand.’

‘Uh, ouch?’

She rolls her eyes. ‘No, not like that. You are absolutely gorgeous and I don’t think he doesn’t want you. What I think is that his youth, his family situation and the way he grew up, is part of his uncertainty about all of this. You told us he barely dated and that his last date was fifteen years ago. This man isn’t used to having someone around him. Besides, he wanted a sugar baby, not someone he would develop a close friendship slash relationship with like he has with you. I think this entire situation is scaring him.’

‘But he specifically told me that we’re never doing that again.’

Genevieve nods. ‘Well, he will come around eventually.’

‘But what if eventually is too late then?’ I ask them.

She shrugs. ‘I don’t know,’ Genevieve says. ‘But, at least you can say that you sucked a multi millionaire’s dick on an airplane.’

I groan. Leave it to her to say something in that direction. ‘Why are you saying it like that?’ I ask her.

‘Because that is really awesome,’ Viola butts in. ‘I mean, imagine if you weren’t interrupted. Then you could say you had sex in a jacuzzi with a multi millionaire.’

‘Can we just skip this subject?’ I ask. ‘Pretty please?’

‘Sure,’ they say, but at that exact moment my phone beeps and I see Henry send me a reminder that we’re going shopping on the sixth. ‘Look at that smile. I swear, Beck, if you just confess to the man that you are in love with him, maybe he would realize that you two are perfect for each other, that you two should get married and have tons of kids.’

‘Oh,’ Viola interrupts Genevieve, ‘can you imagine how cute their babies would look like?’

‘Guys, guys, guys,’ I say, ‘stop right there.’

What made me think they would even listen to me? ‘How many kids did you want again, Becky?’ Genevieve asks. ‘I thought it was at least four.’

While they are talking about Henry and I literally doing it like bunnies in order to get pregnant, baby names and whether or not they should become godmothers, I look over my shoulder to a couple nearby. It’s obvious they are in love, in that disgusting honeymoon phase and it makes me slightly jealous.

Of course do I think about the future and in the last few months, my visions of that would include Henry. A lot of Henry even. It’s the way he looks at me, he touches me and talks to me that makes my mind go in overdrive.

I can imagine him being extremely protective over his pregnant wife, even more so than he already was before. Him starting to work more from home, simply to be with her and the kids. Him being the supportive husband that would join her to those birthing classes. Him talking to the baby bump. Him spoiling their children rotten.

While I first was part of those dreams, the woman next to him now turns faceless. It’s not me anymore.

Oh gosh, this is depressing.

I take a sip of my beer and sigh deeply, trying not to drown in self pity. I look at my screen and decide to type back a message.

Becky: What are we buying?

Henry: I was thinking a new television for you

Becky: Why?

Henry: Just because 😉

I can’t help but smile. Maybe I should just let this be our agreement. Maybe I shouldn’t dream about Henry in my future, but just enjoy what we have now.

‘Okay bitches,’ I say to my friends. ‘Another subject, please.’

‘I agree,’ Viola says.

Genevieve nods. ‘What do you guys think about anal sex?’

‘Gen!’

April 6th 2 p.m.

Henry and I walk passed the different types of televisions in the store. To me they all seem the exact same, but Henry is really going for it, checking the description of each and every single one of them, apparently comparing them to each other.

I don’t get it. I can’t even see the difference. I’m nearly giving up on this entire shopping trip. I honestly don’t even care for a new television, but it’s a promise he made me when I moved into the apartment. I got an old one of his company and while that one works fine to me, he isn’t satisfied with it.

I am willing to just leave the store empty handed, but then my eye falls on a smaller one. It still looks like a cinema screen to me, but compared to the rest, it’s on the smaller side. I stare at the pink edges and even the remote is blush pink!

I walk over to that specific television and crouch down in front of it.

This is my dream, packed up in a television. Sure, I still think I don’t need a new television, that it’s a waste of money anyways, but seeing this one, I realize I cannot possibly leave the store without this one.

‘I should’ve known,’ Henry chuckles, when he stands behind me. ‘You like this one, sweetheart?’

‘I do,’ I say, looking up. ‘You want to buy this one for me?’

He tilts his head, not so sure really. ‘It’s not the best quality, though.’

‘I don’t care,’ I say, standing up again. ‘It’s pink, that’s all I need. If you don’t buy it for me, I’ll do it myself.’

‘No, no, no, you’re not doing that,’ he quickly says. ‘I’ll get it for you, baby.’ He signals to one of the employees that he wants this one, before placing his hand on my back. ‘This fits your apartment perfectly.’

‘Right?’ I chuckle. ‘Thank you for buying it for me.’

‘Of course. That’s what I do.’

And that’s solely what you do.

Henry takes the box from the employee, flashing him a friendly smile, before the two of us walk towards the register. The television is around six hundred bucks, but I’m getting used to the rich life style. I know that this is nothing for Henry and with what I have on my bank account, it’s nothing for me either.

Who could’ve know that this would happen to me.

I wrap my fingers around his sleeve, since I notice it’s a bit crowded outside. He looks back and smiles, grabbing my hand, in order to keep me close. When we’re back in the car, Henry tells me he’ll help me install it.

‘What are you gonna do with the other one?’

He shrugs. ‘Thought I might take it to a secondhand shop or something,’ he says.

‘Can I give it to Viola?’ I ask him. ‘Viola and her boyfriend don’t have tv anymore. since theirs broke.’

‘You don’t need to ask that,’ he says in a soft tone. ‘Of course you can give it to them.’

I lean back in the chair and wonder what goes on in his mind. He seems tired and that makes him appear older. Maybe he is coming around about us (not me hoping for that). ‘Are you okay?’ I ask him.

‘Yes, sweetheart, just a bit tired.’

We drive back to our apartment building and when we’re at my place, he starts to unplug my old television, while I sit on the couch and I stare at him. He takes off his jacket and now he is only wearing a t-shirt with short sleeves, one that totally and completely accentuates his arms.

He must do this on purpose.

‘Do you need help?’

‘No,’ he says. ‘Okay wait, I do need your help.’

I push myself up from the couch and when I’m next to him, he tells me to plug in a few cables. He looks over the screen and guides me as I plug hem in. ‘Here?’ I ask him.

‘Yes there,’ he says. ‘You’re doing great.’

Once I’m done, he pulls me up and together we check if I did it right. Henry has his hand on my shoulder and I lean against his strong body. ‘It’s cute,’ he says, as he is flipping through the channels. ‘Tiny though. You still sure you want this one?’

‘I’m one hundred percent sure,’ I say with a chuckle. ‘I think I have the box somewhere, so we can pack the other.’

I grab the right box from underneath my bed and Henry places the television in it. With the other television packed, he says: ‘I’ll be right back, okay?’

‘Okay,’ I say, with a slight frown. I walk towards my window, stare outside and wait for him to arrive. Wonder what he is doing now. Another gift?

‘I read your entire manuscript,’ Henry says, walking back in.

My heart stops beating for a few seconds, before it starts to painfully pound inside my chest. Okay, he must’ve despised it, I think to myself. He is wondering why on earth I even have ambitions to become an other. ‘Oh.’

He sits down at my dining table and ushers me over. ‘Come here,’ he says and when I’m near him, he pulls me on his lap. ‘I absolutely loved it, baby,’ he says. ‘You’re so talented.’

What? I’m talented? ‘Really?’

‘Yes, sweetheart, it was amazing. Now of course, I’m not an editor, however I am an avid reader and I enjoyed it. It was fast paced, funny and thrilling. There were a few things I think require some editing, but other than that… I absolutely loved it.’

This shouldn’t make me teary eyed. This absolutely shouldn’t.

However it does. My emotions have been all over the place the last few weeks (it has to do with the person whose lap I’m sitting on).

‘No, no, no,’ Henry quickly says, ‘don’t cry, baby.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Come here, come here,’ he says, pulling me in a tight hug. I bury my face in his neck, as I wrap my arms around his shoulders. ‘It’s scary,’ he whispers, ‘showing people your creative outlet.’

I simply nod.

‘It’s okay,’ he tries to sooth me.

I let out a slightly nervous chuckle as I pull back. ‘I’m sorry, this is totally too much of a reaction.’

‘No, I understand.’ He lets out a soft sigh and then says: ‘Showing something this personal can be scary, but I’m so glad you trusted me.’

I smile. ‘Of course.’

‘You know,’ he then says, ‘I know a guy in publishing. Maybe, after you read through it a couple more times, I can give him a call. See what he can do.’

I’m absolutely speechless. He wants to do what for me now? ‘What?’

‘I can give him a call, eventually. But maybe you and I should make ourselves a cup of coffee and talk about the feedback I wrote down.’

I nod. ‘I’ll think about it, thank you,’ I say. ‘I’ll make some coffee.’ I jump off his lap and walk towards the kitchen. I bite my lip and realize that I might become a published author. I mean, Henry loved it and he would actually tell me if it sucked or not. I am sure about that.

I look over my shoulder and see that Henry is already looking at me. He smiles and reassuringly says: ‘Don’t you worry, sweetheart, I loved it.’

April 11th 8 a.m.

‘Good morning Henry, I brought coffee,’ I say, as I walk into Henry’s penthouse. ‘I know you said you wanted hazelnut flavor, but I wanted caramel and I accidentally was selfish and only ordered two caramel.’ When I enter the living room area, I see him pacing back and forth. ‘What’s wrong?’ I ask.

‘Nothing, sweetheart,’ he says, as he stops walking. ‘Nothing for you to worry about.’

The fact that he tells me not to worry about it, causes me instantly to be concerned. ‘You seem nervous. Sure there’s nothing wrong?’ I ask, placing the coffee cups on the coffee table.

He lets out a sigh. ‘I have an interview.’

‘Oh sweet,’ I say. ‘Or isn’t it?’

‘It’s my first interview in three years.’

I pull him with me on the couch. ‘I bet you’ll do great.’

Henry rubs his face. ‘But what if someone asks me about you?’ he asks. ‘I know not much is known about my private life, but I’m scared they’ll somehow figured out about you and ask about it. I don’t want to put you in the spotlight like that.’

‘I appreciate that,’ I say and I mean that from the bottom of my heart. He is concerned about me, meaning he cares. ‘If someone miraculously knows about me, say I’m a well loved employee of yours.’ I place my hand on his cheek and add: ‘Don’t worry too much.’

‘Come here,’ he says, wrapping his thick arm around my waist, pulling me closer to his body. I can’t help but enjoy being engulfed in his embrace. As I place my head against his chest, I feel his fingers running through my hair. ‘I shouldn’t worry,’ he says, ‘I know that.’

‘No, no, none of that,’ I tell him. ‘You should tell me how you feel.’ I close my eyes, as I play with his tie. ‘Can’t you just cancel?’

‘I have been thinking about that, it’s just that… I should’ve done that earlier.’

‘Why are you even doing an interview anyways?’

‘Freddy,’—his assistant—‘insisted on that.’ He lets out a soft laugh. ‘Can’t believe I got that punk talk me into this.’

I pull back and smile. ‘You don’t think he is a punk. You think he is sweet.’

Henry smiles back, before pulling me on his lap and I can’t hide my blush. He grabs our coffees from the smaller table and takes a sip. ‘Shame it’s caramel.’

‘Shut up,’ I chuckle. ‘By the way, Henry, remember: you don’t have to answer. No matter what they ask, you can plead the fifth.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Stop getting in your head,’ I say, holding his chin. ‘Promise me.’

He chuckles. ‘I promise.’

After I drank my coffee, I tell Henry I have to go, because I have a nail appointment (yes, I’m living that kind of bouche lifestyle now) and he walks me all the way to the ground floor, though I tell him that’s not even necessary. He even suggests that I can take the car and driver, but I simply shake my head and tell him that it’s literally a ten minute walk.

‘So, break a leg,’ I say to Henry. ‘And don’t worry too much. You are intelligent, you are kind and if someone mentions me, I’m a well loved employee and don’t mention me having access to your office.’

He nods. ‘Will do. And you be careful, okay?’

‘I always do.’ I flash him one more smile, before I walk out of the place. I turn around, wave at him and chuckle.

See, I can do this. I can be helpful to him, without us having to develop feelings for one another. This is what friends do. Friends are kind to each other, supportive and give each other words of encouragement.

And that’s what we can be, what we can become.

✤ ✤ ✤

Henry: It went well

Becky: See, I told you it would go well!

Henry: Yeah, you were right

Becky: Like I usually am 💁🏻‍♀️

Henry: Check your bank account, baby

Becky: Henry…

Henry: You’ll like it, I promise

H. Cavill transferred $650 to your bank account.

Description: You’re the kindest, sweetheart.

Becky: 😒 😒 😒

Henry: One usually says thank you

Becky: I have something for you

Becky: 🖕🏼

Henry: 😮

Becky: 😘

Henry: 😘

April 16th 10 a.m.

Period cramps when you’re already on your period just hit different. I’ve had my fair share of cramps, but these are on another level. For a few long moments I think I am actually in labor, but then I realize I didn’t have sex nine months ago. I actually think I didn’t have sex for two years, so pregnancy is off the table and it’s just severe period pain.

I’m curled up on the couch, while I watch movies and cry whenever something is even remotely emotional. It has been quite a while since I felt like this and I can conclude I haven’t missed this at all.

I hear three knocks on the door and with a groan I get up from the couch, I stumble towards the door and when I open it, I’m met with a confused looking Henry. ‘What’s wrong, sweetheart?’

‘I’m on my period,’ I mumble.

‘Oh,’ he says with a frown, ‘that’s too bad. You have a hot water bottle?’

I shrug. ‘Well, I do have one, but I’m too scared to make those. I’m afraid I’ll burn myself., because that seems like something I would do.’

He nods. ‘You go sit on the couch. I’ll make one for you.’ He walks in and I curl myself back up on the couch. I hear him boiling water in the kitchen and it doesn’t take long before he gets back. ‘I didn’t know if you were in the mood for something salty or sweet, so I brought both,’ he says, placing a bowl with chips and a chocolate bar on the coffee table. He places the hot water bottle on my stomach and asks if I want tea or coffee.

‘I want hugs,’ I mumble.

He smiles. ‘Can be arranged.’

I sit up and he gets on the couch. He leans against the armrest with his back and I position myself between his legs, placing my head on his chest. ‘Thank you.’

‘Of course.’

‘I hate that I’m being punished for not being pregnant.’

He chuckles. ‘That’s quite unfair indeed.’ He places the blanket a bit better over me and pulls me closer to him, his hand pushed underneath my shirt as he places it in the dip of my waist. ‘Want something?’

‘Chocolate.’

He leans over and grabs the chocolate bar. He already breaks it into pieces and brings one to my lips.

We watch the movie and it all goes well, until it feels like my uterus is actively trying to exit my body. I groan, as I squirm in his arms. And not the good type squirm.

Boy, do I wish it was the good type of squirm.

‘Did you take a painkiller yet?’ Henry asks.

‘Yes,’ I growl, ‘I just have to wait another three hours or so before I can take the next one.’ I sit up straight and take a deep breath, but the pain isn’t subduing at all.

Henry places his thumbs on my lower back and gently massages exactly where I need it the most. ‘Is this okay?’

I nod. ‘Yes.’ I wipe my tears away and whisper: ‘Thank you.’

‘Of course.’

The pain finally starts to drift away and I grab his wrists, before leaning back against his chest and wrapping his arms around me. ‘I take that it’s better now.’

‘It is,’ I say. ‘How do you know exactly what I need?’

He doesn’t answer, but he simply places his hand on top of mine, our fingers intertwining. ‘Instinct, I guess,’ he then whispers. ‘You go sleep, sweetheart, I’ll be right here.’

✤ ✤ ✤

When I wake up, it’s five hours later since I last checked the clock and I’m not on the couch anymore, but in my bed. I look around me and see there is no sight of Henry. On my nightstand, I see a glass of water, some painkillers and a note.

He is so damn thoughtful. I see he left a note for me and after I took the painkillers, I grab the note.

Becky: You are amazing

Becky: Thank you for everything

I wonder if he even has time for me and if he is gonna respo—

Henry: Not a single problem, baby 😘

April 25th 11 a.m.

‘I’m taking you driving today,’ Henry tells me when I open the door the next morning. Thankfully I’m already dressed and ready for the day we were going to spend together. I just figured we’d go for lunch or shopping.

Not driving?

I frown. ‘What? No, what if anyone sees?’

He smiles. ‘No no, I thought of that. I made sure I found a place no one can see you.’

‘Henry,’ I say, already putting on my jacket and grabbing my purse, ‘you drive manual. I’ve heard that shit is hard.’

He nods. ‘I know, but if you learn driving in a manual, that’ll only be beneficial for you later on. I guarantee.’

‘You sure?’ I ask him. ‘I don’t want to wreck your car.’

‘You’re not gonna wreck my car, Becky,’ he says, holding out his hand for me to take, after I closed the door behind me. ‘Besides, I truly think you should learn how to drive.’

‘I don’t want weekly lessons. Not from you, not from anyone.’

‘I’m not going to force you, but it’s nice to at least get a bit familiar in the car.’ He smiles as he squeezes my hand. ‘I promise you, it’ll go fine.’

The two of us get in his Range Rover and he starts the car.‘Place your hand on the stick,’ he says.

‘Why?’

‘So we can practice with shifting gears. No worries, I’ll help you.’

I carefully place my hand on the stick and Henry places his on top of mine. ‘Since I just started driving,’ he says, ‘I’m at one. I’m going to push in one of the pedals here, before I move up to the two, okay?’

‘Okay,’ I say.

Judging from the flexing of his thigh, he pushes in the pedal and together we shift from the one to the two. ‘Very good,’ he says.

‘Henry, I barely did anything,’ I chuckle.

‘Allow me to give you compliments, Becky,’ he says with a smile.

Henry drives to a secluded place, where we have space enough to drive around a bit, without people watching. He continues to hold my hand and every now and then, we shift together.

He pushes his chair back, pats his lap and says: ‘Come here.’

My eyes enlarge. ‘What?’ I ask him. ‘Why?’

‘So you can have a feeling of driving,’ he says, ‘without actually driving.’

I unbuckle my seatbelt and sit on his lap. He lowers the seat a bit and places one hand on my thigh, while the other rests on the stick. I remember when I was younger, I would sit in the back of the car, while my sister Celine could drive with dad, sitting on his lap and driving just like this.

I sure missed out on a lot.

‘Okay, don’t you worry,’ Henry says, placing his chin on my shoulder. ‘You only worry about steering and then we’ll shift gears together.’

I can barely function like this, however as Henry starts up the car and together we shift, the car goes forward and I hold the wheel, trying to keep the car straight.

‘Turn right,’ Henry says, after we drove straight forward for a while.

‘Now?’

‘Yes now.’

I turn too sharply, because the two of us nearly tumble over.

‘Careful, careful,’ Henry says, placing his hand on the wheel, to help me not to steer too sharp and uncoordinated. ‘There you go,’ he says with a chuckle. ‘You’re doing okay.’

‘Okay is not good,’ I say. ‘I’m still very glad we’re secluded. I’d die of embarrassment if someone saw this.’

Henry starts to laugh. ‘You are doing great.’

We continue to drive like this and at one point, I don’t need Henry’s hand anymore to shift gears and minus the pedal thing (I can’t reach), I’m doing it all by myself.

Not gonna lie, I quite enjoy this.

‘You are doing great,’ he says, squeezing my side. ‘I’m proud of you.’

‘Thanks daddy,’ I say, only quickly realizing what I did. What have I done? Not me totally and severely panicking right now. I’m sitting on his lap for crying out loud. ‘Oh shit, pretend I didn’t say that. Forget it right now!’

Our eyes meet as I look over my shoulder. ‘Did you just call me daddy?’ he asks.

When he says it like that, it’s even worse. I get off his lap and while I sit on the passengers seat, I say: ‘Don’t repeat it, please. This is absolutely mortifying. I really shouldn’t have called you that.’

He cocks an eyebrow. ‘Why not?’

‘Henry!’ I exclaim. ‘This is no where near bedroom setting and I can’t call you that outside of those types of activities. Besides, we don’t even engage in those types of activities. I’m just glad that we are getting back to normal again and look at this: I’m calling you daddy. This is so embarrassing. I wanna die. I’m just getting out and stand over there, so you can hit me with your car.’

He chuckles. ‘Okay, take it easy, drama queen. It’s not that I mind. Took you long enough to say it.’

I let out a laugh, but I don’t know if that is just simply to mask my embarrassment. ‘Of course you would say it like that,’ I say. ‘I don’t even know where this came from. I’m so sorry.’

‘Don’t,’ he says. ‘It’s quite funny and once again: I didn’t mind.’

‘Can we forget it and go home?’

He nods. ‘You want to drive?’

I glare at him. ‘Not funny.’

He chuckles. ‘I’ll drive us home, baby.’

✤ ✤ ✤

When we walk back in our apartment building, the receptionist hands me a large box. ‘For you, miss Kim.’

‘Oh thanks,’ I say with a smile. I look up to Henry and say: ‘I ordered some clothes. You want to see?’

He nods. ‘Of course, baby,’ he says with a smile. He pulls the box out of my hands, so he can hold it and he wraps his arm around my shoulders.

After the daddy incident, we haven’t spoken about it (thankfully) and we simply decided to move passed the unfortunate event.

I’m so not gonna tell Viola and Genevieve about this embarrassing slip up.

We walk into my apartment and though I shouldn’t feel self conscious about the way I look (he saw me partially naked), I still hide in my bedroom when I’m changing outfits. I show him the dress I bought, a pair of jeans and a white crop top and he approves every single one of those clothing pieces.

But the last entire outfit is my favorite.

My skirt and matching crop top are both in a blush pink color and I even ordered some white boots to match with it. ‘And?’ I ask Henry, as I twirl around.

‘I love it, you look absolutely beautiful,’ he says, as he stands up with a smile. ‘This is my favorite look.’

‘Yeah?’ I ask him. Desperate for some more validation from him, I add: ‘It is?’

‘It is,’ he confirms. He walks towards me, takes my hands in his and whispers: ‘I have to apologize.’

‘Why?’

‘I’m trying, Becky,’ he says in a soft tone, ‘but I’m not trying hard enough.’

I tilt my head, as I still don’t understand what he is on about. ‘Henry, I don’t get it.’

‘I don’t want to hurt you, but I am.’

Oh… ‘It’s okay.’

He shakes his head. ‘It’s not okay. I’m so sorry.’

I pull my hands from his and wrap my arms around him. ‘Don’t work yourself up,’ I say. I can’t take this anymore. ‘It’s all okay. I’m just glad that you told me about your feelings and how you are looking at the matter. Just…’ Let me know when that changes, so we can have more sexual rendezvous. ‘Don’t forget I am always here for you.’

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x oc #henry cavill x asian ofc #henry cavill x becky kim #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fandom #sugar daddy!henry cavill #sugar sugar #becky kim #asian ofc

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harryspet · 4 years

Text

sweet sister | peter parker

[Warnings] dark peter parker x innocent reader, reader is extremely innocent, manipulation, male/female masturbation, somnophilia, stepcest, hj, vaginal sex but not really?

A/N: This is based off a request I got for a innocent reader where Peter teachers her about sex. Reader is 18 and Peter is around 21. DARK THEMES SO READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

In which you’re May and Happy’s foster kid and Peter takes advantage of your innocence.

Like, reblog and let me know what you think!

word count: 2.9k

You came home from school like it was a normal day. Walking up the steps to your family’s brownstone, clad in your school uniform, and loud music blaring in your headphones, “May!” You shouted too loudly, walking down the hallway towards the kitchen, “Did my package come?”

You stopped in your tracks as you saw three figures standing in the living room. Happy, May, and … some kid you didn’t know. Your eyebrows raised in confusion at the young man standing with your foster parents.

“Y/N, this is my son Peter!” May smiled, trying not to be awkward. She approached you, urging you forward. Now you recognized him and your eyes widened because of how easily you missed it. He was in all the photos on the mantle but, now, he looked a bit older.

You were not what Peter expected, at all. By May’s description of you, he thought you might be a middle schooler. His eyes trailed over you, the way you filled out your uniform … Peter snapped out of it, moving forward to hold out his hand to you.

“Hi, I’m-” Interrupting him and surprising him at the same time, you went in for a hug. Peter hesitated for a moment before hugging you back. You noticed he had a strong grip.

“She’s a hugger,” You heard May whisper.

You pulled away and offered your hand for him to shake. He took it, smiling, but still a little confused by the long greeting, “I’m Y/N. You look just like May! I mean, you’re very pretty like her.” Happy always went on about how pretty May was and you always agreed.

You watched as his cheeks reddened. Was it something you said? ''Thank you very much, I haven’t heard that one before.”

You looked back at May who seemed to improve the interaction. You smiled, worrying that you had made him nervous, “Peter finally has a break from his busy schedule to come see us. He’ll be here with us for at least a week. May and I thought this would be a good time for you two to get to know each other.”

May had taken you in two years ago but this was the first time you were officially meeting Peter. He was always halfway around the world fighting crime and could only stop at May’s work every once and awhile. You never thought you’d ever have a full family like all the people on the television did.

“That sounds like a lot of fun,” You heard Peter say and your heart did a little backflip. Your very own big brother. “What’s this about a package?”

“Oh,” Your face fell, “Uhm, they’re just books.”

Peter gave you a look of inquiry, stuffing his hands into his pockets, “You like to read? What kind of books?”

You opened your mouth to make up some excuse but Happy interrupted you, “I put your package on your bed, sweetheart. Why don’t you show Peter his new room?” Right, you had taken Peter’s old room.

“Okay!” You perked back up, glad the subject of books was over, “Follow me, big brother!”

That was easy, Peter thought. She didn’t seem to give a second thought about accepting him which was endearing but scared Peter to a certain extent. How trusting was she exactly? May had warned him that she was a little eccentric … and a little emotional.

Peter tried to keep his focus up as he followed you up the stairs. A part of him was a little let down that you were wearing shorts beneath your plaid skirt.

“May says you have like a sixth sense. And that you can sense when danger is near. She talks about you a lot, you know? You call it a Peter tingle, right? I thought that was a really cute name but I’m not supposed to bring it up around you apparently-” You were rambling, as usual, and had passed your bedroom but you noticed that Peter wasn’t following you anymore.

“You made it pink,” You heard Peter say as he peeked into your room. He adjusted the black backpack on his shoulder and you couldn’t help but notice his muscles. He was like the boys you read about in your books but … he was technically your stepbrother.

You walked toward him, “May said I could decorate it how I wanted. Do you hate it? You hate it, don’t you? I’m really sorry. It’s just that it’s my favorite color and-”

“No way, I like it!” He quickly assured you, not wanting to see what happened when you finally ran out of air. Peter walked inside and you followed him. There was no twin bed anymore but a regular-sized bed with a white canopy.

There was a pile of stuffed animals in the corner that Peter noted, “You have a lot of stuffed animals …”

“Those are the ones they give you in family court,” You explained to him before pointing over to your bed, “I keep the ones Happy and May give me on the bed, those are my favorite.”

“I see,” You spoke so casually about being in family court that it made Peter wonder what your story was. There were at least ten stuffed animals there, “Which one’s your favorite?”

You liked that question, smiling wide, as you walked over to your bed. Peter watched you carefully as you bent over to grab a gray penguin, “I like penguins a lot. My first Christmas here, May got me this and a penguin puzzle. I’ve done it a million times now but we could put it together if you wanted.”

“I can’t imagine anything better, Y/N.”

You were going to be very fun to get to know, Peter thought.

The family had gone out to dinner that night and had been the rest of the evening putting together a hundred piece, penguin puzzle. It was one of the best days of your life and, as you expected, having a family was wonderful. Having Peter was just an extra bonus. You wished he didn’t have to leave.

The next day, as you walked down the steps that lead from your school, you didn’t expect to find Peter waiting for you. You ran up to him and hugged him, of course, and you savored the moment when his strong arms were around you. Some girls you didn’t know gasped and practically swooned as they watched you two.

“I have strict orders to take you straight home so you can start right away on your homework,” You frowned until Peter continued, “But I think we should stop for ice cream.”

You were practically bouncing with excitement as Peter grabbed your hand and lead you down the street.

At the small parlor, you licked at a cone of chocolate ice cream while Peter stuck his spoon into his ice cream sundae. Peter’s eyes wandered over to your mouth, imagining your wrap your lips around his-

“You never said what you liked to read, Y/N.”

You blushed, your nose wrinkling, as the embarrassment filled you, “It’s silly … you don’t want to hear about it.”

“I do,” Peter insisted, “I won’t tell anyone, don’t worry.”

You took a breath, “They’re … they’re romance novels. It’s a series one of my friends at school told me about. She thinks I’m too … too babyish. Apparently, there are scenes in it ... “

“Scenes like what?” You blushed even more.

“Bad scenes,” you whispered and Peter pretended to think the subject was taboo, “She wants me to learn about … dirty stuff. These guys are taking us to prom and she wants … she wants us to have our ‘first times’ together. I don’t even know what that means! But I can’t tell her that or she’ll think I’m even weirder than I already am to her.”

Buried treasure. Peter had stumbled upon pure gold.

“Y/N, you’re talking about sex?” Peter narrowed his eyes at you.

“Sex?” You spoke the word like it was completely foreign on your tongue, “I think that’s it. Sounds gross, right?”

Peter couldn’t help but chuckle, “It’s kinda gross if you think about it too deeply but it’s not meant to be gross. It’s not as scary as you think. It’s quite beautiful, actually.”

Her eyes went wide, “You’ve done it a bunch, haven’t you?”

Peter shrugged, “A few times but only with special people. If the guy who’s taking you to prom isn’t special then you definitely shouldn’t give him your first time.” Peter would have to do some research on this guy and make sure he didn’t even think about coming near her.

You looked solemnly at your melting ice cream, “I must be a total weirdo then …”

“You’re not, Y/N, trust me. Eighteen is still young.”

You leaned forward, whispering, “I haven’t even kissed anyone, Peter. People do that in middle school.”

Peter leaned forward next, entrancing you with his eyes, “Do you really want to get some experience? Because … I could help you. I’m probably better than those trashy books.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Do brothers and sisters normally talk about stuff like this?”

“Don’t you want to be friends too?” You instantly nodded, “Then I can help you out, as a brother and a friend. But if you want to read your books-”

“No, no, you can teach me!”

And you easily stepped into his trap.

That night, Peter slipped out of his room clad in his pajamas. Your door slowly creaked open and you sat up in your bed. You rubbed the tired from your eyes as Peter peaked in, “My room is freezing … and I can hear Happy snoring through the walls.”

You pulled back your comforter, patting the spot next to you, “You can sleep in here with me,” Peter entered all the way before slowly shutting the door.

“Really? I can sleep on the floor …”

You shook your head, “It’ll be like a sleepover.”

Peter moved in the darkness, climbing in beside you. You pulled the covers over him and you both lay down. Peter watched as you turned over before tiredly murmuring, “Goodnight, Peter.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

Peter waited a good hour before moving closer to you. In a slow movement, he had pressed himself against you, taking in the scent of your hair, as he admired the lines of your body. It was a risk but he touched your waist, his hands trailing over to your stomach. He felt the soft skin of your back as well before reaching into his pants.

He touched himself to the thought of you and he almost panicked as you moved. You turned to your other side, not facing him. Watching your sleeping face sent Peter over the edge and he muffled his grunts with a pillow.

He wasn’t in your bed when you awoke the next morning.

Happy had surprised May with a romantic dinner that night so Peter and you were left alone that evening. You were brushing your teeth in your jack and jill bathroom when Peter walked in suddenly. You looked over to see him only wearing a pair of basketball shorts.

You blushed, looking back at the mirror before spitting out the foam in your mouth. He stalked closer to you and you noticed something different in the look in his eyes, “I was thinking something, Y/N, about what you told me at the ice cream shop.”

You put away your toothbrush, turning off the sink before wiping your mouth with a hand towel, “I thought you had forgotten …”

Peter smirked, “Far from it, actually. I was thinking about how you said you want more experience. With kissing boys and things like that, right?”

You nodded slowly, growing nervous.

“I think the first thing you should learn is how to pleasure yourself before you learn about pleasuring someone else,” He held your hand, rubbing soothing circles into your palm.

“Pleasure?”

Peter nodded, “Sex is all about pleasure,” Peter held your hand it slowly brought it against his crotch. You felt something hard and flinched away, “It’s okay, don’t worry.”

It was such a weird feeling. Only recently had you learned that boys and girls even had different parts.

“Right here is where guys can feel pleasure,” Then Peter reached out to touch you. Through the fabric of pajama pants, you could feel his fingers brush against your folds, “This is where girl’s feel pleasure. Let me show you.”

He assured you that everything was going to be okay as he slid down your shorts. Before you could step out of them, Peter swiftly lifted you onto the counter and you yelped at the sudden movement.

He took your hand and pressed your fingers against your crotch. He tried to guide you as best as he could, standing between your spread legs, “Oh my stars …” You breathed out, savoring the foreign new feeling. You wanted to run away from it and run to it at the same time. You looked at Peter with frightened eyes as he slowly moved his hands away.

“That’s it, good girl, keep rubbing,” He praised you, loving the sight of you discovering your own body. You kept going, rubbing circles over that sensitive area through your light pink panties. You leaned back, lifting a leg on the counter, so you could get a better angle.

“Is this good Peter?”

“You’re doing great, Y/N. Doesn’t that feel good?”

You nodded, practically whimpering. You looked at Peter differently than before, you didn’t see the boy you saw before. You thought about how handsome he was and how sweet he’s been to you all week. You felt the wetness growing beneath your legs and you blushed as you look down, “Peter, I-I think I’m peeing …”

Peter gave you an amused smile, “That just means that you like it, Y/N. That you’re aroused,” Peter grabbed your hand and moved it away from your crotch. You found yourself missing the feeling and you watched as he slid off his pants and underwear. The sight of his manhood felt foreign but aroused you at the same time.

Peter slowly palmed his manhood as he leaned into you. You practically froze as his lips touched yours. He didn’t even have to speak because as he slowly left soft pecks on your lips, you started to lean back into him. Your hands touched his neck as you started to move your lips against his. You liked it … No, you loved it, “Your lips feel squishy,” You gushed and Peter laughed, turning his head as the kiss became more passionate.

You let your leg fall back over the counter and, as it did, Peter slowly slid off your underwear. Then suddenly, he lifted you. You wrapped your legs around him as he carried you into your room. He sat on your bed, leading you to straddle him.

“I want to try something,” Peter said before pecking your lips again.

You were all in.

He laid back on your bed, and you sat on his legs, “Touch my cock,” You thought the word was silly but you could tell what he meant. It felt harder than you expected and as you gripped it on your hand, a guttural moan exploded from Peter, “Spit on it.”

“Peter-”

“It’s okay, it’ll feel better that way,” He tried to assure you and you hesitated before pulling your hair back. The trail of spit fell onto his member and you felt gross for a moment until you saw his reaction.

That sound he was making you even wetter.

Peter grabbed your legs, pulling you up more until your private parts were positioned right over his, “I want you to rub yourself against me, can you do that?” Peter asked. With all his fantasies coming true, he wasn’t sure how long he’d last.

You nodded. You held onto Peter’s chest as you slowly dragged your private parts against his. His cock was pressed against his stomach and your lips moved up and down his length. You felt it then. That pleasure and his pleasure mixing. You kept going, starting to feel something building up in your core.

You bit down on your lips, liking the feeling of when his tip rubbed against your sensitive bulb. Your wetness acting as even more lubrication, you thought you were making quite the mess but Peter didn’t seem to mind.

You moved faster, Peter’s groans encouraging you and your curiosity of that thing building up inside you kept you going. Your toes curled as you got the feeling of a waterfall rushing off a cliff. Your mind went blank for a moment and your body shook as that damn finally broke.

You moaned, riding out the feeling and that's' when you felt Peter convulsing. You felt his cock twitch as white spilled from the tip of his member and onto his stomach. Peter’s head rested all the way back and you couldn’t help but smile as you realized that you had both reached your tipping points.

“Well, was that it? Did I do sex?”

“Sort of,” Peter said, completely out of breath. The eagerness in your eyes wasn’t something he expected, “You have a lot more to learn, Y/N.”

“Then can we do it again, Peter?”

Hope you enjoyed this! Feel free to check out my masterlist for more Peter fics! There is a short sequel to this!

PART TWO

#dark peter #peter parker x reader #dark peter parker #dark!peter #stepbrother #stepsister #mcu smut #marvel smut #mcu x reader #mcu #dark marvel #oneshot #peter one shot #tom holland #tom holland x reader #au #peter parker au #ariana grande

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