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neo-shitty · 3 years

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araw-araw — l.mk

description. in which mark was sure that what he felt for you was certainty. | inspired by araw-araw - ben&ben

pairings. lee mark x female reader

genre. fluff, established relationship, college/university!au

warnings. none

word count. 2k

notes. a lot of inspiration for this fic actually! there’s this post, then this edit and me missing live shows and concerts pre-pandemic. this one’s for the filos out there, i hope we get our nct x filo artist collab someday too!

“So,” Donghyuck started, pulling one of the chairs back so he could sit across Mark, “I already went back to the dorms, showered, changed my clothes, jogged back and you’re still here?” the younger boy asked, appalled. He was as loud as he wanted to be with the convenience store devoid of any other people besides him, Mark and the cashier.

Mark’s eyes weren’t on the person interviewing him but at the television screen overhead. He gave an uninterested response. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Donghyuck closed his eyes, poking his cheek with his tongue—a mannerism he did whenever he was annoyed. “Do you have any idea how long I shower?”

“‘Course,” Mark said, shoving a chip in his mouth and chewing it before continuing, “I always run late waiting for you to finish everyday.”

“That’s how long you’ve been here,” the other boy stated, leaning back on his seat as if to prove a point.

“Yeah, and?”

“You can stand waiting that long?”

“I’m used to it by now,” Mark shrugged.

Donghyuck’s palm was spread out in front of Mark’s hand (and his bag of chips), asking for a piece. The older boy pours a few onto his hand and he mutters a small ‘thank you’. “No, not waiting for me. But for a girl?”

“Hey.” Mark’s eyes finally moved away from the television screen, eyeing Donghyuck who was munching on the chips he’d been given. “It’s full-time college, Hyuck. Cut her some slack. They don’t have the extra hours like we do.”

“But for a girl?” Donghyuck asked again, a pitch higher than his normal speaking voice.

“You don’t wait this long for—”

The older boy didn’t get to finish his sentence when he was cut off. “Correction, she waits for me,” Donghyuck crossed his arms over his chest confidently before eventually backtracking, “and she scolds me for it everyday.”

Mark shook his head, suppressing a laugh at Donghyuck’s response. “Business students. Time is money.”

“Exactly. Which is why I don’t get why you’re so calm about waiting this long?”

“First off, I have time to spare. And I’ve gotten used to it, so it’s fine I guess? She never stands me up no matter how busy she is, though. So the wait is always worth it,” Mark answered, smiling after he finishes explaining, “at least, to me, anyway.”

Across him, Donghyuck looked at him in disgust. “Ew, you’re starting to sound like all those corny leads we used to hate.” A shiver rolled down his spine and he visibly shakes.

“Donghyuck!”

The bell of the convenience store chimes and a girl walks in.

“Yo, Mark!” she says, hand raised so she could give Mark a high five. “I think _____ would still take a while, though she said she’ll just catch up. You wanna come with us to get some snacks before the show starts?”

Though the offer was tempting, Mark only shook his head, “No, it’s fine. I’ll just wait for her.”

Donghyuck shrugged, turning around to look the girl in the eye, “Told ‘ya he wouldn’t budge. You’re treating me on the next date.”

“Wait,” Mark furrowed his brows, “you guys bet on me?”

“Psh, nah,” the girl answered, kicking Donghyuck’s leg beneath the table playfully. It should’ve been a silent, harmless act but Donghyuck was always overly dramatic and he yelped out in ‘pain’. The girl could only roll her eyes. “Anyway, if you don’t want to, we’ll just go ahead. Meet you at the grounds?”

“Why didn’t you go with them?!” you asked—high-pitched and infuriated.

Mark winced, distancing the phone speaker from his ear for a second. He chuckled at your reaction, “You said I should wait for you so I did.”

You sighed exasperatedly, “Which is why I sent my roommate to tell you not to because I was still finishing something! But I’m done now and I’m in the dorm and I’m changing,” Mark noticed because he could hear you shuffling at the other end, “and I’ll meet you in a few. Don’t hang up on me. So this happened today.”

You always rambled a lot—both consciously and unconsciously. Sometimes you’d go on for minutes out loud, other times you’d just mumble to yourself in an attempt to not let Mark hear you. Today, you’re vocal about your frustrations and Mark kept his phone pressed to his ear to listen to you talk about how your day went. All the noise around him is muffled and only the sound of your voice comes clear. He’d laugh and drop comments as you went, making sure to keep you talking until your throat ran dry, or at least the weight on your chest lessened.

Mark had always loved hearing you talk. Years ago, you’ve both been dragged into the Freshman’s Acquaintance Party. Your friends, being quite the extroverts they were, were having the time of their lives. By the pavilion’s exit, Mark was trying to think of the best way to excuse himself while you were rambling to yourself a few feet away. That night, he decided that if he couldn’t leave the place, he might as well keep himself preoccupied. With his phone dead, he decided to listen to a stranger talk instead.

Years later, he was still listening to the same stranger, but things weren’t as strange now as they used to be.

“I know you loved Leaves by Ben&Ben, but have you heard this one,” you said one day at the university’s library.

Mark loved accompanying you whenever you studied. Or maybe he was just fine with having any excuse to see you. He was there mainly to keep you from getting distracted whether it be by ignoring you whenever you started to ramble again or by taking your phone away.

That day, you were studying for a minor exam, so you weren’t too strict with yourself. You had one earphone plugged in your ear, it’s pair was plugged into Mark’s. You were scrolling through your music library to find the specific track you wanted to recommend. When you finally found it, you immediately clicked on it.

Mark’s eyebrows furrowed when the song began to play, the lyrics were in a language he wasn’t quite knowledgeable in yet. He craned his neck to check the title of it on your phone. “Araw-Araw?”

“Yeah, it means ‘Everyday’,” you answered.

He nodded, “Oh, cool. What do the lyrics mean?”

You didn’t answer.

When Mark looked at you, he saw that your eyes were fixated on your book again. Your eyebrows were less furrowed than earlier with your head bobbing to the slow beat of the song. So he kept his mouth shut instead and looked it up himself.

Today, you were both going to hear the song played live.

“I’m right by the venue gate now,” you said through the microphone, standing on the tip of your toes to get a better view. “Where are you?”

Mark craned his neck, eyes wide and scanning past every face in the vicinity. “I’m by the gate too but I don’t quite see you yet.”

“Really? Can you raise a hand?” you asked, doing a 360 turn when he obliges. You see a single arm stand out in the crowd. It looked awkward and ridiculously out of place, but you were glad Mark agreed to do it anyway. “Oh, okay. I see you.”

“Wait, what? That’s unfair. Where are you?”

“Turn around!”

So he does, finding your own outstretched arm waving—though, barely seen—in the sea of people. He heard you giggle through the phone as you made your way to him. He met you halfway, chucking his phone into his pocket as he got closer to you.

You stopped a few steps away from him and you let him walk closer. He smiled widely but you didn’t reciprocate it. Instead, you pouted. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You had your arms outstretched so Mark mirrored you. He took the initiative to close the distance between the both of you, wrapping you in a tight embrace for a moment before letting go.

“I’m so sorry!” is the first thing you say when you look up to catch his eye.

He stared down at you confusedly, “What in the world are you even apologizing for?”

“I always keep you waiting,” you said, frowning.

Mark still didn’t get the point of your argument. “But you’re here now, though,” he said light-heartedly, imitating the way you were frowning in an attempt to make you laugh. “That’s more important.”

A half-hearted giggle escaped your lips when you catch sight of his own pouty lips. “You say that all the time, Mark.”

“And I’m fine with waiting, all the time. If you say that you’ll come, I’ll wait. It doesn’t matter how long.”

“You could’ve gone with them.”

“I wanted to go with you and they are not you.” Mark smiled at you again—lips pressed together with the corners of his eyes crinkling ever so slightly. “Stop trying to argue with me on this one, you’ll lose. Let’s go.”

Hours later, you were now both in the crowd of the show. The song in the back of Mark’s head now played through the enormous speakers of the venue. You had your phone raised, flashlight on as you swung it from left to right over your head, just like what everyone else did. Beside you, your friends were singing along at the top of their lungs—unsure if they were singing out of tune on purpose or not. You laughed, hearing them trying to out-sing each other during the second chorus of the song.

Mark watched quietly from behind you as his mind took him back to the first time he heard the song—that day at the library, an hour past sunset, while he sat across you. He remembered exactly how you looked that day, as if it was embedded in the back of his mind. Your hair falling down the side of your face as if to frame it, your glasses resting on the bridge of your nose, your eyes moving from left to right as you finish rereading each part you previously highlighted. Captivating, even at your simplest.

The song rolled onto its last chorus and you joined your friends in singing along. Mark had listened to the song far too many times to not know the lyrics well enough to sing along but he still choose not to. He’d read the translations far too many times to not know what it was about. You might’ve suggested the song back then simply because you just liked it—completely oblivious of its eventual repercussions.

“Mahiwaga, ang nadarama sa’yo’y malinaw.” What I feel for you is certainty.

Never in his life had Mark been more happy doing the most mundane things with someone. Whether it was drinking coffee first thing in the morning or on late night study sessions in the library, or walking down the brick paths all around the university. Whether it was watching you fall asleep in his arms or ice skating at the hockey rink. He doesn’t notice time pass whenever he is with you and maybe that’s why he never minded waiting for you no matter how long it took.

“Mahiwaga, ‘wag nang mawala araw-araw.” Please don’t fade away in my everyday.

Time spent with you was time not wasted. He had never looked that far into the future with someone else in mind besides himself and never in his life had he been more certain who he wanted to spend today, and every other day that followed, with.

It’s the pounding in his chest, even above all the noise around you, that let’s him know that never in his life has he been this sure.

You turned your head and you see Mark staring right back at you. His lips curved into a smile when he caught your eye. You smiled back, reaching over to take his hand in yours. Your fingers intertwine easily, like they’ve always fit together perfectly. You mouthed the words Mark had been meaning to tell you the entire night before you smiled back at him.

“Mahiwaga, pipiliin ka, araw-araw.” I will choose you now and everyday.

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hotdamnhunnam · 3 years

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Louder, Bitch

A/N: So for those who liked Fuck You Better, I think this makes a great sequel to that fic! (But it can also be read as a standalone.) Based on the below request – in which Jax wants you to be loud during sex, to let everyone know just how good you’re getting fucked 😏 Note: As mentioned in some of my recent posts, my plan is to alternate posting fics like this, from my Main Request List, with fics for my 500 Followers Kinkfest!

Pairing: Jax Teller x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, dirty talk, rough sex, super loud sex, in the kitchen, with an audience (listening but not actually watching), dom!Jax Request: This awesome anon request!

Word Count: ~1.8k

“Can’t we just go to your place?” you beg.

“Babe, we’ve already fucked a hundred times on every surface,” Jax reminds you as he drives his bike up to the front of your apartment complex. You two have only been officially together for a few days, but it’s true. “Need to stake my claim to you on your turf, too.”

The Harley pulls up to a stop; you groan, reluctant to step off. “Ugh—fine, just go ahead and talk about me like a piece of meat you own. I guess that’s nothing new...”

“Well, you sure seem to dig it when I fuck you like one,” Jackson taunts, smirking since he can tell those words set fire to your cunt. He takes off your helmet, offsetting the filth with a softhearted kiss on your forehead. “Love you.”

Teasing aside, the real reason you’re stopping by is to pick up a few things you need from your apartment. You haven’t set foot back here ever since Jax Teller claimed you as his girlfriend. Been avoiding this place like the plague, ‘cause a certain somebody—your ex-fuckbuddy—just happens to be your damn roommate.

You just pray that he’s not home today, as you head up the few flights of stairs to your floor.

“Still can’t believe you share an address with your ex,” Jax says as you quietly open the door. “This place stinks of unsatisfying sex.”

“You know he’s not really my ex, Jax. Was never my boyfriend. We just shared the rent, and hooked up now and then because it was convenient,” you mutter as you step in, feeling Jax groping your ass with eager hands. Just hoping desperately the other man’s not home to witness what’s about to happen... “Luckily the lease is up this weekend. Then we can—”

But Jax has no patience to let you finish that sentence. Slams the door shut behind him as he shoves you up against the wall and kisses you so hard that you’re incapable of speaking. You probably won’t ever see straight again.

“That’s my girl. Such a sweet little piece of meat,” he snarls, the force of his hunger and heat pushing you down the hall, toward the nearest surface where you used to eat. You try to protest that your ‘ex’ might be home, in the very next room... but Jax just doesn’t seem to care at all. “Quit your bitchin’. Think you need a good hard pounding in the kitchen.”

***************

Ten seconds later, your man has you screaming so loud that you’re bound to be getting complaints from the neighbors.

The whole town of Charming can probably hear. Thankfully it appears that your roommate’s not here, as you notice his keys are absent from the spot where he typically keeps them, whenever he’s in...

Of course Jax took note of the fact you were distracted for a second, checking for your ex’s keys. He isn’t pleased. Your wholehearted focus on him during sex is the one thing he always demands, fucking needs. Pulls at your pants with forceful hands, yanking them further down your knees, spanking your ass as he drives his enormous cock into your soaking wet heat.

Jax has you bent over the cold kitchen counter. Manhandling you like a damn piece of meat, taking you from behind in a pure show of alpha male power. And every delicious thrust into your tight pussy has you screaming even louder.

Apparently not loud enough. Jax knows you like it rough. Leans down to growl pure filth into your ear, pushing your shirt up so your bare skin rubs against the rugged leather of his kutte, calling you his dirty little girl and nasty fucking slut. Ordering you to make even more noise, which happens inevitably as your body reacts to the force of his touch and his gruff, raspy voice.

He knows this is exactly what you love. What the slut deep inside you enjoys. Getting used like his fucktoy, completely destroyed. And he loves when your screams make that clear, for the whole town to hear.

The whole town—literally everybody—and... oh shit. Suddenly there’s a sound at the door, in this moment, which you somehow notice, while you’re busy moaning like a fucking whore. The door just opened, you’re pretty sure. And it must be your goddamn ex-fuckbuddy.

Though you don’t give much of a shit what he thinks, still it just seems insulting and embarrassing, to have the guy walk in and watch and listen, while Jax hammers you to pieces in the kitchen. To have him actually hear and see you getting fucked so rough and slutty...

“J-Jax—” you gasp.

But Jax just deals your ass another brutal slap, grabbing a fistful of your hair to make you arch your back, and laughing in your ear now as he hears your breathing hitch and feels your pussy twitch.

Then he just says two words that make you want to fucking burst. His dominance feels so damn good it hurts. “Louder, bitch.”

That’s all it takes, for all your dignity and self-restraint to swiftly fade away. For you to do exactly as he says. To give in to your purpose to submit and to obey, always, while Jax keeps punishing your pussy till it breaks.

“Fuck—Jax...” you moan, as he pulls your hair firmly back, pushes his cock in farther, spanks you harder, treats you to the pleasure that only Jax Teller can give. Jax alone. For as long as you live. Reminding you and your ex and everyone else that you are his to own.

Much of the noise that you’re making is just shouts and screams, grunts and groans. Like the soundtrack to some raunchy porno. Which Jax fucking loves. Says the sounds that you make are the stuff of wet dreams. He gets off on this stuff. Hearing you come undone as you burst at the seams, barely able to form words as you let your inner whore go.

But you know this dirty motherfucker is also a sucker for dirty talk—hearing his girl use her words to praise his big, beautiful, powerful, perfect cock. Gushing about how he gives you such pleasure, how nobody could fuck you better. Ever since you and Jax got together, you’ve been showering him with praises like that quite a lot, and it gets him so hot.

So today’s no exception. You somehow form words to effuse about how your new boyfriend is literal sex god perfection.

“Oh my God, your cock—holy fuck... so good... ugh, yeah just like that, Jax—just fuck me like I’m nothing but your filthy little slut... God, you’re so hot... so big—so fucking big... holy shit—Jax, I live for your dick...”

It’s not as if your former fuckbuddy was small—no, not at all—but, well... compared to Jax, every man is. So you’re just being honest, even if it sounds mean as hell. It’s not your intention to be mean about it, but now that you have Jax’s dick... you just can’t live without it. And Jax wants your ex and the whole world to know that, so nobody will ever doubt it.

Surely by now, there is no fucking doubt. Not when you’re being so fucking loud.

This whole time your ex seems to have stayed in the foyer, clearly within earshot but out of the way. Not so close as to actually witness.

You may not be mean-spirited... but Jax is. Just a little bit. He and your ‘ex’ have just a little bit of history, a little bit of business.

So between the dirty words that he relentlessly growls down into your ear, you hear him call out to the man who’d walked in unannounced. “Bet you fucking miss this!”

It’s a proud, territorial, alpha male shout. With a sick, savage smirk of a smile. Jax Teller’s classic style. And all the while, he keeps on ferociously fucking your brains out, right here in the other man’s house.

As his cock keeps on pounding you into the counter, the both of you keep shouting louder and louder...

And soon the front door just slams shut. Your ex-fuckbuddy clearly had heard quite enough. Feels no need to stay here and listen, while somebody hotter and bigger and better—Jackson Fucking Teller: the only man you’ll ever want, ever love—ravages your tight wet cunt in this kitchen. His kitchen. All filthy and rough. Making sure the whole world knows that you are his slut.

Jax stakes his final claim, by filling you up with his thick hot cum as you repeatedly, heatedly scream out his name. Keeping his massive dick inside you as he leans down over your trembling body to engulf you in the warmth of his kutte, in the glow of his love. Kisses tender and soft, to help ease you down from how explosively you both just came.

So that just happened, on the kitchen counter here in this apartment, for which you and your ‘ex’ are still both paying rent... and you seriously have no fucking shame. Just to please your man, you would honestly do it all over again.

Jax seems to read your mind, still buried deep inside you from behind. “Damn. Babe, that was awesome,” he sighs as he traces the sex-hazy smile on your lips with the tip of his thumb. “So, um... you said the lease is up this weekend?”

“Mm-hmm,” you hum, your senses still totally buzzing and numb. Struck dumb, from being so full of his cum, and just how much you love him.

“Guess that leaves just a few dozen other surfaces for us to get our freak on,” he muses aloud, taking stock of the territory that he has to conquer by the weekend. “You know I gotta stake my claim before your pretty ass officially moves out.”

Can’t help but laugh, though laughing hurts when he just fucked your cunt in half. But it’s so worth it. Fucking perfect. Pain is pleasure, with Jax Teller. “What, you got some kind of kink for fucking me in my own house...?” you ask although you know the answer. Your badass biker boyfriend is a territorial alpha male bastard.

“Hey—this is my house now,” he claims, playful yet seriously proud. Picking you up and then spreading you out across the dining room table like a piece of meat for him to fucking eat. Already all set for a second round. “Let’s give the neighbors something to complain about...”

Oh, yes sir, you think in silence as he throws you down, ready for yet another round of perfectly painful pleasure, as your man goes to town and fucks your goddamn brains out.

Jax Teller has only one order, as he settles in to fuck you even harder. As if there was ever a doubt. “Bitch, better be fucking loud.”

***************

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fleursdemeduse · 3 years

Text

Remembrance AU: Constant Dying

This is not going in the direction that was originally planned, but I'm not sure I'm too upset by it. I'm glad to finally post a part that goes a bit further into Techno's feelings about you this time, though. I'm also starting to work on an angsty Simpbur fic alongside this one, so keep an eye out for that.

Warnings: Mention of death ; Near-death

Words: 3.6k

Your legs throbbed as you trudged through the multiple paths to where you and Techno had been mining. Your neck wasn’t fairing much better. There was always residual pain after a death, especially when you were killed by your own stupidity and not mobs or someone else. You were more than happy to take hits for your friend, often shielding his body with your much smaller one to protect him, but natural deaths were pointless to you. Not to mention that dying this many times in such a short period made an ache develop on the right side of your brain and you knew you wouldn’t be able to be rid of it for hours. You finished descending carved stairs to where you believed you had been and let out a sigh at the effort. Your chest filled with a dull ache at the action. A firework to the chest was certainly a quick way to die. It was far from the most painful as long as it got the job done in one or two shots and the ache would only last another hour or two if you would stop dying.

You thought back on how the events from earlier in the day had transpired. The entire thing had been a shit show and you loathed the next time you’d speak to Wilbur, knowing you were likely going to just yell at him. You weren’t in a great mood because of his little stunt. At least you knew why Techno had killed you and several others on the server. There was no reason for him to sit back and watch Tubbo be executed by your dearest friend. You could only hope that the boys new scars weren’t too bad. He’d have to display them for the rest of this lifetime, after all. Maybe he’d think they were cool like Tommy did.

You slowly unclenched your jaw and relaxed your shoulders, smiling a little at the thought of blond that you spent the other half of your days doting on. He was like the little brother you had always imagined wanting. Mumza had filled your prayers in some fashion, you supposed. A small chuckle spilled from your lips, deciding you’d make Technoblade pay you back somehow for your deaths today. You were up to three now.

A smile curled your lips as you thought of the possibilities. Maybe you’d steal his crown for a little bit. Or his cloak. You giggled to yourself as you crossed the lava pit that you were going to use later for obsidian. Mining in caves this deep was difficult enough without mobs so the lava was a good way to make sure none spawned nearby. Perhaps you could get away with all of the above with the addition of forcing him to make you a cup of tea. That would certainly be fair, wouldn’t it? You were sure if you convinced chat, you’d be able to make him do it.

The ore had been mostly cleared out, all that remained were long tunnels deep underground spanning for what felt like forever. It took you a good chunk of time, but finally you approached him from behind. He had continued mining, cobblestone covering the hole that you had fallen down and ultimately died upon impact in. “You grabbed my stuff, right?”

He pointed to the chest that had been set up, not stopping his assault on a piece of diorite. You flipped open the lid, pulling out several stone pickaxes he had managed to pick up. You didn’t suppose he had kept most of the stone, leaving it in the cave, but the ores, redstone, and lapis you had gathered sat untouched in the chest. “I don’t understand why you continue to use those. They’re flimsy.”

You shrugged before joining his side again, mining away the soft rock. “Because I can keep a large stock of them and don’t have to waste the durability of my diamond one.” You stopped paying attention to the coal you mined at above you as you looked towards him. “Besides, they’re expendable and I don’t have to worry about retrieving them every time I-”

Gravel began to fall on and around you in heavy chunks, obscuring your vision. You were startled for a moment at the sudden assault and you cursed your horrible luck. Of course the moment you were back and trying to resume your task, you’d almost die again. You recovered quickly, feeling the pressure around you as you were crushed and tried to dig your way out of the pile, but more seemed to just fall and replace the gravel you had just removed. It was suffocating. Rocks grated against your skin and you cringed at the sound of them rubbing against each other. You tried to claw your way through, fingers getting scraped as small pebbles cut the flesh. You were running out of air. You hated dying like this.

A hand grasped your bicep and you grunted as you were yanked out of the rubble. Rocks and flint shifted around you as it gave way and filled in the spot where you had just been. A broad chest cushioned you as you stumbled forward. You sucked in air as you rested your forehead against him. "I don't think I've ever seen anyone screw something up that fast before."

Your laugh was more of a wheeze as you smacked your hand against him, next to where your head rested. You didn’t move, however. Techno chuckled as he pat your back. He’d let you have your moment to calm yourself back down. He wasn’t particularly scared of you dying again, but he knew it had to have sucked. You had been taking the brunt of damage meant for him since, well, every time the two of you spent time together, and he didn’t understand why you were so eager to do it. On top of your clumsiness that already resulted in countless other deaths he didn’t know about, you died for him often when it would have probably only resulted in a minor wound for him. You were so reckless. But that smile you gave him every time somehow dissipated his annoyance more than it should have. It was familiar somehow. The voices loved it more than they should have. They loved you more than they should have.

You didn’t care who he was, how he was, what he did, if he could do something for you. You cared about him. Whenever he was giving too much to the rebellion, whenever he was hyper fixated on tasks and was trapped in his own brain with only chat as company, you were always there. They didn’t mind receding to the back of his head while you two talked, adding in small quips here and there. The loud roar they normally were was typically a small rumble when you were talking. It put him on edge with how much they liked you, but he couldn’t blame them. You provided conversation more often than not. You offered simpler solutions to long problems in his head he’d been breaking apart over and over until it had spiraled into a bigger one than it had started out at. But besides that, you also forced him to sleep, to remember to drink water, to take time for himself. To care about himself the way you did. He didn’t know how to repay you for the unending kindness you showed him. Especially when all you asked for was his friendship in return.

He felt you sigh against him and he moved his arm to free you. You were looking up at him, though, not stepping away.

"Are you alright?" His lips twitched. Shouldn’t he be asking you that?

"Yeah, why?"

"You look mad." A snort escaped him. You couldn’t even see his expression past the mask.

"That's just my face.” You didn’t look convinced. He ran his fingers through your hair, knocking some debris loose. It fell to the floor at your feet. He ignored the way you leaned into his touch. “I’m alright, [y/n].”

You smiled at him. You smiled that cursed smile. It made him feel worthy of the title god; so full of reverence and kindness. You had to have been blessed by Kristin herself. How could you still look upon him like that after what had happened at the festival? How could you show such adoration for a-

“Stop lookin’ at me like that.” He turned his head away. He didn’t feel like he deserved to be the recipient of that smile made from sheer adoration. Your eyebrows furrowed and your smile wavered.

“Looking at you like what?”

“Like how Wilbur looks at you.” Your laugh rang through the tunnels. It echoed off the walls and he couldn’t help the swell of something in his chest. For a moment, you reminded him of Phil.

“Why is it a bad thing if I look at you like he does to me? He’s a really dear friend.” Oh dear.

“Don’t tell him that.” The idea of you only seeing him as a friend would break his heart floated unspoken in the air. You didn’t seem to notice it.

“Why not?”

“Just don’t.” Techno stepped back from you when it was obvious you weren’t going to do it yourself. He watched you deflate slightly and felt like he had done something wrong.

“It’s not like he wants to talk to me now anyways.” You picked up your pickaxe again, moving to work on the pile of gravel. He offered you his shovel and you took it. “He hasn’t said a word to me since the festival earlier.”

“I’m honestly surprised you’re still talkin’ to either of us after that debacle.” You paused your digging to look at him curiously. “After me bein’ peer pressured into killin’ Tubbo and everyone else. Killin’ you. His plan to do nothin’ ‘bout it. It’s surprisin’ that you aren’t givin’ us both the silent treatment.”

You scoffed, going back to the gravel in front of you. “That wasn’t his plan.”

Techno stilled, his eyebrows furrowing. “What?”

“Wilbur wasn’t planning on just doing nothing. He has TNT planted all around Manburg.” You hesitated, the grip on his shovel tightening in your trembling hands as you continued digging. “I don’t know why he didn’t set it off.”

There was no sound next to you or behind you. Stopping your work, you looked at him, only to see him looking towards where the mouth of the cave was. “We should be gettin’ back.”

A soft sigh left your mouth. “Go on ahead, I’m right behind you.”

You didn’t want to face the fallout.

You returned to Pogtopia late that night. Mining alone had been a good way to soothe your nerves after the events that had happened earlier. Whilst you had wished Techno had been there longer, you understood wanting to regroup. Today had been stressful for all of you.

You walked down the crude steps that had been made after putting the excess resources into the communal chest at the top. There was soft murmuring and the distant sound of Wilbur’s cackle put you a little on edge, but you soldiered on. It’s okay. Tubbo hopefully would have respawned by now. Things would go on. You froze at the top of the walkway down to the primary meeting area.

Techno was wrapping his knuckles with some extra gauze you recognized to be from your chest. Tommy was sitting a little away from him, his back to the wall and his knees to his chest. There was a distant look in his eyes as he stared at the ground in front of him. You could see a sliver of one of your plasters on his face, the bluish purple fabric and white dots a dark galaxy against his pale cheek. Your feet were moving before your brain as you ran to the teenage boy and knelt before him. You should have come back sooner. You reached out to hold him before hesitating, choosing instead to extend your hand to examine the flesh around the bandage. “You look horrible, Tommy. What happened? I thought you were safe after what happened at the festival.”

Techno grunted from the sidelines. “We resolved our issues.”

The boy before you huffed, still looking at the ground, but he leaned into your touch. “Resolved is a strong word, but we’re okay. For now.” He looked up at you and you pursed your lips together. He relaxed at the worry in your eyes. He was safe with you. “Where were you?”

“I was mining. I needed to blow off steam after all of that.” The blond just nodded, pressing his face further into your touch. You moved closer to brush some of the golden locks away from his face with your free hand. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Techno was suddenly beside you both, towering over the two of you. “It stays in the pit.”

You sent him an inquisitive look. “The pit?”

He only nodded and your frown deepened. Anger started to fester in you. Did he do this? To a child? “We are definitely discussing this later, Technoblade.” You watched his shoulders tense for a moment. You didn’t know if it was because of your tone or the use of his full name, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care at the moment. You’d take care of it later. You two always talked things through, and now would not be any different, but you had to worry about Tommy. “You can’t just hurt people and say things are better now.”

He opened his mouth to retort, but you were already helping the blond up to shuffle him to your bed. The child kept trying to wave you off, but you persisted. Despite your ire against him, something shifted in his chest at watching how gentle you were with Tommy. His bond with you was truly something to behold.

Why aren’t they paying attention to us like earlier?

They’re so sweet to him.

Tommy's lucky we didn’t accidentally kill him.

I wonder how they’re so close.

I don’t want to talk to them later.

Why are they mad at us?

So they’re not upset about the festival, but they’re upset about a fight with Tommy? That makes no sense.

Follow them.

This is stupid.

Do they like him more?

Techno sat back in his spot against the ravine wall. He saw traces of a fireplace and used the heel of his boot to push around the sooty remains. Most of the questions chat had were valid, but he didn’t want to pursue you. He didn’t want to have that conversation later, either. He just wanted to move on. But he knew you wouldn’t. Something about how resentment ruins friendships and miscommunication was the biggest cause. He could never resent you. Sometimes he resented the gods, but never you.

He wanted to know what kind of entertainment DreamXD and Kristin got out of watching them over and over and over again. Did they have nothing better to do than continuously create and orchestrate each new lifetime? Each new world with different rules and a different storyline? Or recreate other worlds just to change the plot? There had been so many, but this was the first where they all remembered. This was the first where he had met you.

Techno closed his eyes. None of his lives had been bad. Well, particularly bad. Wilbur always seemed to get off worse than he did. Tommy sometimes worse than them both.

He remembered a life of gilded castles, one of many. He trained Wilbur and Tommy in combat. He studied politics and was a general. He watched the two of them grow up in Phil’s absence. There were handmaidens that were too bold in their words, butlers that were too polite, and inside jokes between him and the guards. There were dinners made of things that he only wished they could recreate here. He remembered that despite any squabbling, they were still very much a family. He knows Tommy remembers that one all too clearly. He doesn’t talk about it often, but Techno knows the look in his eyes whenever Phil is mentioned. He also speaks sometimes about the servant that once tended to his mother but he nor Wilbur could ever recall one. Too many faceless employees. Too many nameless soldiers.

He remembered a different life where Hanahaki Disease roamed rampant. The flowers infected most of the people he knew. Sometimes they got better, sometimes they didn’t. Phil would never catch it. The blurry memory of his friend saying so flashed briefly in his head. That fact didn't surprise him in the least. Phil was a catch. But he had never had to deal with the deadly buds either. He couldn't remember why. His head throbbed gently as he tried to wade through the fog. Wilbur had suffered from it, though. It was devastating when he passed. The flowers choked him, stuffing his airways with petals. Who had he loved so much it killed him? Didn't he love anyone like that? Didn’t he find someone so beautiful that dying was more preferable than a life without them? Maybe he did. There were small flashes in his head of the gentle squeeze of a hand and a smile that could snuff out the sun. Why couldn't he seem to remember their face?

There was another life. A life where markings appeared on his skin. Little scratches, cuts and scrapes that weren't his, doodles, words that he would have never written himself. He remembered sitting through a lecture once, smiling at the little stars that speckled his arm and slowly appeared like the night sky in the twilight of the setting sun. Wilbur had shown off the same markings, and it was brutal irony that the two of them shared this connection with a third. They would play games frequently. Mostly twenty questions or tic tac toe, but locations and true names were always burning scribbles on their flesh when attempted. They tried many tactics to find out more before Wilbur had told them both off. He wonders if they had found their third in that life.

There had always been gaps in his memory, especially when it came to his other lives. Lulls where the mundane had become just a bit too mundane, moments where he just shut his brain off and went by instinct. Things were easier when you didn’t have past lives to think about. When he didn’t have to consider if he had already learnt a lesson and was doomed to repeat it. When you weren’t around to give him glares and words of encouragement and cause disruption in his life. Were Tommy and Wilbur’s lives more difficult with you here too? With someone to tell them what to do and to patch up their wounds and give fleeting touches that were so soft it was like touching a petal? He hopes not.

A sound of distress comes from the direction you and Tommy had gone in and he turns to look. You’re standing there, facing away from him, reaching out towards empty space to someone who wasn’t there. You must’ve been the one to make the noise.

You turn around and his frown deepens. You look tired and more than a little frustrated. It was amazing how much of a difference you stood now compared to the person that clung to him throughout the nether when he had first met you. Your presence was easy. You didn’t ramble like he would disappear anymore. You didn’t look to him for validation with every move. You didn’t act out of the desperation isolation had instilled in you. You had settled like the missing puzzle piece they didn’t even know was missing. Did you ever visit the library that you had once called your first home?

He watches you finally approach him, sitting and leaning against his side as if you weren’t upset. You move to intertwine your arm with his, hand slipping into his own. He didn’t stop you. “Wilbur, he’s-”

“Crazy? Yeah, I know. He wants me to set off withers.” You sat straight up. Shock painted your face a hue that didn’t suit you. Or perhaps it was fear. He didn’t like it.

“Withers?” He nods. Your head spins back to the direction of your bedroom. “Does Tommy know?”

“Tommy knows. I went along with it.” Techno feels you scoot away, releasing your hold on him and he already misses the feeling. “It’s not like we’re tryin’ to salvage the place, [y/n].”

“I don’t want more innocent people to lose another life, Tech.” You look at him once more. “Do Tommy and Wilbur know that you’re hoping to leave nothing behind? Because they both talk about reestablishing L’manburg when given the chance.”

“I keep tellin’ them the truth, but it seems like they’re not gonna listen.” He watches your face fall into a look that he hopes meant acceptance. Your eyes moved to the ground between you both and you just nodded. You didn’t know where you would sit in the aftermath of this all.

Techno felt your hand slip back into his as you take your place back against his side. Pink hair was soft against your cheek as you rested it against his shoulder.

“One step at a time. Let’s worry about getting rid of Schlatt first, okay?” He just nods back, resting his head on top of yours. You squeeze his hand in response. You felt safe again, especially with him next to you “Now-

Tell me about this pit.”

#RemembranceAU #dsmp au #dream smp au #dsmp x reader #dream smp x reader #technoblade x reader #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot x reader #mcyt x reader #tw: death

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nim-lock · 3 years

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Art Career Tips, 2021 Edition

Here’s an edited version of my 2019 answered ask, because... this feels relevant.

It is a problem of capitalism that folks equate their income as a judgement of their value as people; and let me preface. You are worth so much. You have inherent value in this world. Your income is not a judgement on who you are (plenty of billionaires are actively making the world worse). LARPing self-confidence will go a long way to helping you get paid more for your work, because clients will believe that you know what you are doing, and are a professional.

& real quick—my own background is that I’ve been living off my art since 2018. I went to art school (Pratt Institute). I work in a publishing/educational materials sphere, and a quarter of my income is my shop. Not all of this information may apply to you, so it is up to you to look through everything with a critical eye, and spot pick what is relevant.

So there are multiple ways of getting income as an artist;

Working freelance or full-time on projects

Selling your stuff on a shop

Licensing (charging other companies to use your designs)

This post primarily covers the freelance part; if you’re interested in the other bits there is absolutely info out there on the internet.

IF you are just starting (skip to next section if not applicable) dream big, draw often (practice helps you get better/more efficient), do your best to take "a bad piece” lightly. You’re gonna RNG this shit. At some point your rate of “good” works will get higher. Watch tutorial videos & read books. A base understanding of “the rules”; anatomy, perspective, composition, color helps you know what the rules are to break them. This adds sophistication to your work. One way you can learn this stuff is by doing “studies”—you’re picking apart things from life, or things other people have done, to see what works, and how it works.

Trying to turn your interests into a viable career means that you are now a SMALL BUSINESS; it really helps to learn some basic marketing, graphic design, figure out how to write polite customer service emails; etc. You can learn some of this by looking it up, or taking skillshare (not sponsored) classes by qualified folks. Eventually some people may get agents to take care of this for them—however, I do recommend y’all get a basic understanding of what it takes to do it on your own, just so you can know if your agent is doing a good job.

Making sure your portfolio fits the work you want to get

Here is a beginner portfolio post.

Research the field you’d like to get into. The amount people work, the time commitment, the process of making the thing, the companies & people who work for them.

Create work that could fit in to the industry you’re breaking into. For example, if you want to do book cover illustration, you draw a bunch of mockup book covers, that can either be stuff you make up, or redesigns of existing books. If you’re not 100% sure what sort of work is needed for the industry, loop back into the portfolios of artists in a similar line of work as whatever you’re interested in, and analyze the things they have in common. If something looks to be a common project (like a sequence of action images for storyboard artists), then it’s probably something useful for the job.

CLIENTS HIRE BASED ON HOW WELL THEY THINK YOUR WORK FITS WHAT THEY WANT. If they’re hiring for picture books, they’re gonna want to see picture book art in your portfolio, otherwise they may not want to risk hiring you. Doesn’t have to be 100% the project, but stuff similar enough. If you aren’t hired, it doesn’t mean your work is bad, it just wasn’t the right fit for that specific client.

If you have many interests, make a different section of your portfolio for each!

Making sure you’re relevant

Have a social media that’s a little more public-facing, and follow people in the career field you’re interested in. Fellow artists, art directors, editors, social media managers; whoever. Post on your own schedule.

Interact with their posts every so often, in a non-creepy way.

If you’ve made any contacts, great! Email these artists, art directors, editors, former professors, etc occasional updates on your work to stay in touch AND make sure that they think about you every so often.

Show up to general art events every once in a while! If you keep showing up to ones in your area (when... not dying from a sneeze is a thing), folks will eventually start to remember you.

Industry events & conferences can be pricey, so attend/save up for what makes sense for you. Industry meetups are important for networking in person! In addition to meeting people with hiring power, you also connect with your peers in the community. Always bring a portfolio & hand out business cards like candy.

Active job hunting

Apply to job postings online.

If interested in working with specific people at specific companies, you could send an email “I’d love to work with you, here’s my portfolio/relevant experience”, even if they aren’t actively looking for new hires. Be concise, and include a link to your work AND attached images so the person reading the email can get a quick preview before clicking for more.

Twitter job postings can be pretty underpaid! Get a copy of the Graphic Artists’ Guild Handbook Pricing & Ethical Guidelines to know your rate. I once had a twitter post job listing email me back saying that other illustrators were charging less, and I quote, “primarily because they’re less experienced and looking for their first commission”. This was not okay! For reference, this was a 64-illustration book. The industry rate of a children’s book (~36 pages) is $10k+, and this company’s budget was apparently $1k. For all of it.

Congrats you got a job! Now what?

Ask for like, 10% more than they initially offer and see if they say yes. If they do, great! If not, and the price is still OK, great! Often company budgets are slightly higher than they first tell you, and if you get this extra secret money, all the better for you.

Make sure you sign a contract and the terms aren’t terrible (re: GO GET THE Graphic Artists’ Guild Handbook Pricing & Ethical Guidelines)

Be pleasant and easy to work with (Think ‘do no harm but take no shit’)

Communicate with them as much as needed! If something’s going to be late, tell them as soon as you know so they aren’t left wondering or worse, reaching out to ask what’s up.

And if all goes well, they’ll contact you about more jobs down the line, or refer you to other folks who may need an artist, etc.

Quick note about online shops/licensing and why they’re so good

It’s work that you do once, that you continuously make money off of. Different products do well in different situations (conventions vs. online, and then further, based on how you market/the specific groups you are marketing to), so products that may not do well initially may get a surge later on.

Start with things that have low minimum order quantity and are relatively cheap to produce, like prints and stickers.

If you are not breaking even, go back to some of the earlier portions of this and think about how you could tweak things as a small business. Ease of access is also very important with this; for example, if you only take orders through direct messages, that immediately shuts off all customers who don’t like talking to strangers.

Quick resource that you could look through; it’s the spreadsheet of project organizing that I made a while back

Licensing is when people pay you for the right to use your work on stuff they need to make, like textbooks or greeting cards. This is generally work you’ve already made that they are paying the right to use for a specified time or limited run of products. This is great because you’ve already done the work. I am not the expert on this. Go find someone else’s info.

“I am not physically capable of working much”/ “I need to pay the bills”

Guess who got a hand injury Sept 2020 that messed me up that entire month! I had a couple jobs going at the time that I was terrified of losing, but they were quite understanding when I told them I needed to heal. So: Express your needs as early as you know you need them. Also do lots of stretches and rest your hands whenever you feel anything off; this will save your health later. Like, the potential of a couple months of no income was preferable over losing use of my hands for the rest of my life.

This continues to apply if you have any other life situation. Ask for extra time. Ask for clarification. If you tell people ahead of time, folks are often quite understanding. Know how much you are capable of working and do your best not to overdo it. (I am.. bad at this)

Do what MAKES SENSE for your situation. If doing art currently earns you less money than organizing spreadsheets, then do that for now, and whenever you have the energy, break down some of the tips above into actionable tiny chunks, and slowly work at em.

The original ask I got in 2019 mentioned ‘knowing you’re not good enough yet’. Most artists experience imposter syndrome & self-doubt—the important thing is to do your best, and if anything, attempt to channel the confidence of a mediocre white man. If he can apply to this job/charge hella money for Not Much, then so can you!

Check out this Art Director tumblr for more advice!

Danichuatico’s Literary Agent guide

Kikidoodle’s Shop Shipping Tutorial

Best of luck!

–

Once again disclaimer this post is just the ramblings of a man procrastinating on other things that need to be done. I’ve Long Posted my own post so that it turns into mush in my brain if I try to read it, but I wrote this so I should know this content. If you got down here, congrats. Here’s a shrimp drawing.

Yee Ha.

My reference post tag My tip jar

#reference #artist information #UHHHHH I don't know man

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writer-k-pop · 3 years

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Time Spent

그래도 안 자면 안돼. 언마나 오래 갈지 모르겠으니까. Don’t stay up though. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.

Description: After a concert, Wonwoo isn’t feeling well but even if he’s completely determined to make it through the post-concert live, his body is not. When he faints mid broadcast, he’s sent to the hospital to get checked out but it leaves you with time to think that you might be the cause of his exhaustion and it spirals into an attack. And a conversation the next morning. Warnings: Anxiety attack, fainting, anxious thoughts Genre: Angst, Idol!Wonwoo x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.9k

Seventeen Masterlist | Masterlists

Wonwoo comes down from the stage stumbling and coughing but he's determined to make it through the short V-Live before he retreats to his hotel room to sleep for the rest of the night. He says all he needed is you to hold his hand for the duration of the live broadcast and he could make it through. You agree.

During the after concert V-Live, Wonwoo's hand grips yours tightly just off screen. He's still breathing hard from the concert but it's harder than he should be. You know he's really not feeling well. But the two of you have made an agreement. He'd do the live and if he, at any point, feels like he can't anymore, he would squeeze your hand three times in a row. Wonwoo has yet to signal.

You uncross your legs and then cross them in the opposite way again. Wonwoo glances over at you and you give him a soft reassuring smile.

15 minutes into the live broadcast, Wonwoo is tilting his head side to side and blinking like he's trying to keep his eyes open. You look at him worriedly before sharing a look with Mingyu who stands behind Wonwoo with his hands on the back of the couch, protectively.

Wonwoo knows that this V Live won't take too long. 30 minutes tops. At the beginning he really thought he could make it through it. But now, he's not so sure. Every single bone in his body feels like a piece of lead and his head feels like a giant medicine ball sitting atop this pile of lead. Even with his glasses on, his vision goes in and out of focus and he tries his best to focus on the conversation happening around him but his members' voices keep fading in and out.

The only thing keeping him semi grounded is your hand in his.

You're pulled out of the conversation the other members are having about Soonyoung's ment screwup by Wonwoo's hand squeezing yours three short times. Looking over at him, you nod and get up, preparing to lead him away. He follows your actions under the watchful eyes of Mingyu, Seungkwan, Jeonghan, and Seungcheol-who is on the other side of the group.

But as soon as he rises to full height, his hand goes slack, his legs buckle underneath him, and he crumples to the floor. All within the broadcast camera sight.

Within seconds, Jeonghan, Seungcheol, and Mingyu are kneeling at his sides and the V Live has been abruptly ended. Your breath is caught in your throat and your body frozen until Seungkwan gently pulls you to the side so managers can get to him.

"Wonwoo." Seungcheol gives his shoulder a gentle shake, hoping he hasn't lost consciousness.

Wonwoo releases a low groan and rolls onto his back. You release the breath you've been holding in when you see him move but the tightness in your chest doesn't dissipate. It stays like tightly coiled barbed wire around your heart. You're honestly not sure if you can name the emotion you're feeling. You know he's okay but you are also worried about what caused this.

Their manager relieves Mingyu and talks lowly to Wonwoo while other staff members scramble around the room. Wonwoo sits up with the help of their manager and Seungcheol. For a couple seconds he just sits there, dazed and sipping the water that was offered to him.

"I think we should get you checked out just in case." Their manager voices his opinion and Seungcheol nods in agreement.

"I agree. You should go. We'll stay here and wait for you." Seungcheol says, his leader instincts kicking in.

The other members stay silent where they've retreated to but you and Seungkwan are still in the same spots.

Wonwoo raises his head and his eyes immediately find yours staring at him with a look he can't quite read. Weakly, he holds out a hand and you kneel next to their manager, taking his hand in yours. The barbed wire around your heart tightens every so slightly.

"I think you need to get checked out." You voice your thoughts and before Wonwoo argue against you, you cut him off, "It's just a precaution. For my peace-of-mind, go get checked out at the hospital. Please?" You stare at Wonwoo and he can see the concern that's painted in your voice.

"Okay." He agrees quietly and gives your hand a reassuring squeeze.

Their manager stands and starts giving out instructions while Seungcheol and Jeonghan help Wonwoo onto his feet.

"I'll stay here. Just come back soon." You tell Wonwoo as he's lowered into a wheelchair a staff member found somewhere.

Wonwoo nods, "Don't stay up though. I don't know how long I'll be gone." He advices you and you nod in response.

"I won't." You say with understanding but knowing you're probably going to stay up until he gets back.

He gives your hand one last squeeze before their manager rolls him down the hall and out of sight.

Walking back into the room, the rest of the members are talking quietly to themselves as the staff members clean up the equipment as all activities have been put on hold for the rest of the night.

You can't help but wonder what led up to this. Wonwoo has been fine the whole time up to this concert. He would spend his mornings at rehearsals, sometimes he'd spend lunch with you, return to rehearsals until they ended (usually late at night), and then he would come to your place to spend more time with you before sleeping over, only to have to get up early the next morning to repeat the same schedule.

Looking back at this, the barbed wire constricts a little more as you realize that he'd been spending a lot of time with you. Time he could've been using to rest and recharge from rehearsals. The other members were fine because they didn't have a person to eat lunch with or spend extra time at night with. They all probably went to bed after rehearsals and got good sleep for the next rehearsal filled day.

A hand covers your mouth as you realize you could be the one at fault for Wonwoo's fainting. Was it because you were too greedy and wanted to spend so much time with him? Were you not as concerned with his well being as you should've been? Was he not honest with you about how much time he was spending with you? Did he lie to you whenever you asked if he was tired?

Your breath picked up and your other arm wraps around your stomach as you try to fend off the attack but with the thoughts swirling in your head, it's pretty much useless to try and stop it.

Feeling your body refusing to stand straight any longer, you lower yourself onto your knees and struggle to get a breath in or out. Tears collect on your bottom eyelid and in a couple blinks, tears are dropping onto your cheeks.

"(y/n)?" Jun notices you kneeling and calls out your name which catches the attention of the other members.

You squeeze your eyes shut as a pair of arms wraps around your shoulders and holds you close. Your muffled sobs seep through you hand and the tears stream down your face. You struggle to breathe in, your chest stutters as the air hiccups into your lungs and yet the barbed wire still clings to your aching heart.

"You guys go ahead." Seungcheol says with his arms still around you.

"Josh, you and Minghao stay with them." Jeonghan instructs as he ushers the other members out of the room.

Why didn't he tell you he was tired? Why didn't he ever tell you it probably wasn't a good idea for him to see because he needed to rest? Why wasn't he honest with you?

Had you been too pushy? Did you say something that made him feel like he needed to lie to you? Did you smother him? Did you do this? Why didn't he just tell you?!

A fresh wave of tears pushes through your closed eyelids and you try to choke back sobs but it ends up making you cough.

"My... fault." You cough out, shaking your head with tears dripping from your chin. "He... and me... too much... time... spent..." A sob cuts your voice off and Seungcheol tightens his grip on you with a sigh.

Joshua and Minghao share a worried look which they then tossed to Seungcheol who understands their worry.

After 5 five minutes, which feels more like an eternity, the barbed wire around your heart finally disappears and the crushing weight on your chest dissipates and you can finally take in a substantial breath. Though the tears are still trickling out, you open your eyes and your tired body sinks into Seungcheol's chest.

"It's my fault, isn't it?" You ask in a muttered voice, wiping the tears off your wet cheeks.

"We should talk about this later." Joshua advices with a soft voice but you shake your head.

"It is though. The times when he should've been properly resting he was with me." You explain, voice scratchy from the crying. "And what if I was being too greedy and pushy for time with him that he never told me when he needed proper rest?"

"I doubt that's true." Minghao sighs and Seungcheol nods his head in agreement.

You scoff slightly, the negative thoughts still flooding the floor of your mind, "You don't know what goes through Wonwoo's mind. I hardly ever know."

"I know he wouldn't keep something like that from you." Seungcheol states definitively, "He indeed is a very private person but he wouldn't say those kinds of lies. Especially not to you."

Not really truly believing his words, you stay silent and your eyes start to feel heavy.

"Let's go upstairs to the rooms and you can get some sleep." Joshua says and taps Minghao's knee.

Minghao and Joshua pull you up onto your feet before Seungcheol stands up. As they lead you out of the room, your eyes linger on the spot where Wonwoo fainted and you feel a twinge of pain in your heart which makes you look away.

"He'll be okay." Minghao reassures you and wraps an around your shoulders. "Just need the doctor's okay for him to continue to do stuff with us."

You nod slowly, hoping it's believable. From your eyes, the drowsiness travels to your shoulders as they start to feel heavy.

When you reach the floor that has been blocked out for the members and their staff, you're slightly surprised to see so many hotel doors propped open.

"Do you want to go to Wonwoo's room to wait?" Joshua asks and through the open doors, the other members begin to shuffle at the sound of voices.

"I don't think I want to be alone... Too many thoughts yet." You gesture up to your head and half smile.

"You can stay in my room." Seungcheol offers, "I'm sure that's where we'll all be waiting anyway."

"We're already here." Mingyu pops his head out of the doorway of his and Seungcheol's room with a warm smile.

"Make way!" Soonyoung exclaims from a room behind you, "Lots of hot popcorn coming through!"

Side stepping, you watch as Soonyoung runs from his room carrying five steaming bags of freshly popped popcorn right into Seungcheol and Mingyu's room.

"Mingyu, you guys got water in there?" You ask and he nods his head quickly.

"Yeah, come on." He says and waves you in before disappearing into the room.

You admired this side of the members. The one that understands severity of situations but always tries to keep spirits up for others and for themselves. It's why you don't really want to be alone at this moment. Your negative thoughts would most likely take over and you'd probably end up crying yourself to sleep.

In the room, Jeonghan, Dino, and Vernon occupy Seungcheol's bed while Mingyu and Seokmin occupy Mingyu's bed. Soonyoung and Seungkwan are perched on the couch. The others must be in their rooms with their doors open.

"He'll be okay." Seungkwan reassures you as you take a seat on the couch.

You nod, not wanting to dive into the real reason you lost it earlier. "Yeah, I'm sure he will be."

Before you can say anything else, Soonyoung lightly shoves into you as he tries to catch a piece of popcorn in his mouth but unfortunately misses.

"Dang." He mutters, disappointed, before picking up another piece and trying again. This time succeeding. "YES!" Soonyoung smiles happily at you and you can't help but smile at him. Chuckles from around the room indicate the everyone is looking at him and his popcorn endeavors.

Somewhere in the next hour, you had dozed off and Soonyoung and Seungkwan moved off the couch so you could fully lay out. As soon as Mingyu draped a blanket over you, you were fast asleep. Your body exhausted from the anxiety attack you had gone through.

Seungcheol shooed the waiting party into a different room but kept his door ajar, partly for him and partly for you.

An hour and a half after Wonwoo went to the hospital and an hour after Pledis released an emergency statement explaining what had happened and what is currently being done, Wonwoo and their manager return to the hotel. Wonwoo walks through the hallway of their floor on his own but at a slower than usual pace. Turning the corner, they see most of the members' doors propped open and their manager chuckles softly.

"Let's get you to your room." Their manager says just before Seungcheol, Mingyu, Dino, and Seungkwan tumble out of Seungkwan and Dino's room.

"You're back." Seungkwan says with a relieved sigh and Wonwoo can hear other members scramble out of bed just before their heads pop out of their doorways. He searches for your face but when he doesn't see you, he assumes your asleep in his bed.

"What did the doctor say?" Dino asks, reaching Wonwoo first and offering his shoulder for support. Jun stumbles into the doorway of their shared room.

"No concussion or anything serious. Said my body's just exhausted and that it's highly recommended I rest for a few days." Wonwoo answers the question.

"Starting now." Seungcheol crosses his arms over his chest and Mingyu copies his actions.

The small group follows Wonwoo into his room where Jun has already climbed back into bed. Expecting to see you in his bed, Wonwoo stops abruptly when the you're not where he expected you to be.

"Where's (y/n)?" He turns to ask the others with concern.

"She's asleep on the couch in my room." Seungcheol points a thumb behind them.

"I want to see her." Wonwoo says and begins walking back out of the room but Mingyu stops him.

"Hyung, she's sleeping and she's really needs the rest." He vaguely explains.

Wonwoo scrunches his eyebrows together, "What do you mean?"

"She panicked after you left." Seungcheol lays out the truth and Wonwoo's heart feels like it just stopped beating.

"Okay, now I really need to see her." Wonwoo defends and tries to push forward.

But Mingyu still blocks his path to the door, "Tomorrow, when you're both not ridiculously tired."

With his heart pounding in his ears, Wonwoo breathes in deeply but Seungcheol cuts him off before he can say anything.

"Tomorrow." He states in a tone that ends the discussion right there and then. Seungcheol doesn't say anymore knowing that what you panicked over is something that the two of you need to discuss.

Defeated, Wonwoo walks the short distance to his bed and tucks himself in with his heart still pounding. Despite his mind racing with thoughts worrying about you, his body pulls him into sleep within minutes after the others have left the room. Jun stays awake until he's certain Wonwoo is asleep before falling back asleep himself.

Mingyu tries his hardest to not make too much noise as he gets ready for the day but of course, his clumsy self had to go and drop his phone on the desk which sent some of his toiletries tumbling around the desk and onto the floor.

The commotion was the second thing that brought you out of your slumber. The first being the obnoxious sunlight pouring in through the windows. Opening your eyes, you see Mingyu mumbling to himself as he picks up his fallen items. You stretch out your limbs and yawn loudly.

"Oh, I woke you up." Mingyu says in disappointment.

You sit up and shake your head, "Nah, the sun was already doing a pretty good job of that."

"Sorry it was loud. I swear I was trying to be quiet." Mingyu smiles sheepishly at you to which you giggle.

"Mingyu, it's fine." You tell him before rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

Then it hits you. Why is Mingyu in Wonwoo's room? Or why are you in Mingyu's room?

"Did Wonwoo get back yet?" You ask, realizing it's morning and you hadn't heard anything at all during the night.

"Yeah, he got back after you fell asleep." Mingyu informs you.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" You ask standing to your feet, heading to the door.

"Cause you were sleeping and he also needed to sleeeeeeep." He drags out the last word at you but you're already out the door.

Quickly walking down the hall to Wonwoo and Jun's shared room, you're happy that the door is open ajar and let yourself in, quietly, just in case Wonwoo's still sleeping.

Tip-toeing into the room, Jun's bed sits empty but still unmade and Wonwoo is still tucked into his bed, eyes closed and breathing steady. You release a sigh of relief and crawl into bed behind him, wrapping an arm around his large torso as far as you can reach which isn't that far with only one arm. As you nuzzle your nose into his back, he stirs and tries to roll over, almost squishing you in the process.

"(y/n)?" His groggy morning voice calls out your name and he peeks through half opened eyes.

"I'm here." You tell him. Scooting out from underneath him, you wrap him in your arms and cuddles into your body. Wonwoo's head rests against your chest and his arms wrap tightly around your waist.

"What did the doctor say?" You ask, running a hand through his hair absentmindedly.

"Well, I don't have any serious injuries but won't be at rehearsals for the next few days." Wonwoo sighs, his eyes staying closed.

"That bad?" You frown that he'll have to miss rehearsals but also since the boys have a few days off before the next concert, it's not too terrible.

"It's not bad. I just need some rest." He mumbles and leans up to plant a kiss at the base of your neck.

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, wondering if you wanted to bring up your thoughts from yesterday now or if you should wait. Wonwoo registers your silence and instead of contemplating the decision, he just dives right in.

"Are you okay?" He asks, pulling back and looking at you.

"Not.. really, no." You answer him honestly.

"What happened?" Wonwoo questions now wide awake and sits up, leaning against the headboard.

You also sit up properly but glance nervously towards the door.

"He left awhile ago and I doubt anyone's gonna walk in. They all went out, I think." He explains catching your glance.

Taking a deep breath, you look at Wonwoo, "After you left, I just, I started to panic thinking that maybe it was my fault that your body gave out."

"It's not you fault." Wonwoo says softly and grabs your hand gently.

"You spent what little free time you had with me." You continue to explain, letting the held back words slip out into the world, "You spent every night at my place when you probably should've been in your own bed, closer to rehearsals, getting enough sleep for your exhausting rehearsals. You needed those hours to rest and I can't help but think that I took them away from you and because I did that your body couldn't handle the work." You sniffle as somehow more fearful tears appear, "And you promised me. You promised me that you wouldn't overwork yourself. I told you to ditch me if it meant letting yourself rest. Now I'm scared that every time we hang out, you're doing it just for me and that you should be resting but instead you're out with me and won't tell me that you need to be elsewhere."

Realization washes over Wonwoo as he takes in your words. He had promised you. But he, honestly, never felt like he wasn't getting enough rest. He always, always wanted to spend time with you, even if it meant sacrificing a few extra minutes of sleep.

Wonwoo tugs you into a hug and you let him envelope you in his arms, his head resting on top of yours.

"You just... fell." You mumble, recalling what you saw the night before. "You were standing one second and the next your were on the ground and I couldn't breathe, I couldn't move, I couldn't even think. I just, I don't want to be the reason you neglect your health. I don't want to be the reason you end up like that again." You let out a shaky breath and Wonwoo can feel his own tears well up in his eyes.

Lord knows he's not a cryer but hearing you doubt yourself and doubt him has him dipping into a sadness he almost never dips into.

"I did promise you." He says softly, willing his voice to stay steady. "But I never, not once, thought I wasn't getting enough rest. Every night I slept over at your place was a night I wanted to stay over. I always wanted to spend that extra time with you. It was never because I felt obligated to be with you. Never." Wonwoo squeezes you closer and you look up at him but he just continues to stare straight ahead trying to rid his eyes of the tears. "It's honestly probably my own fault for not listening to my body enough. It was me ignoring my body's needs and I paid the price for it." He finally looks down at you and presses a kiss to your forehead, "You will never be the reason why I fainted."

You adjust your position and kneel next to him, his arm still resting on your arm.

"I know that but I don't know how long it'll take for this worry to go away." You tell him and he nods in understanding.

"I know." Wonwoo says, "And I'll just reassure you every time."

"And please, listen to your body more." You ask of him with pleading eyes.

Wonwoo leans closer and presses a firm kiss to your lips. "I will."

"You should probably get some more sleep." You smile softly, "I know how much sleep you usually get on days off."

"Stay with me?" He questions and you roll your eyes at the question.

"Of course. Like you said, everyone went out so what else am I going to do besides baby my boyfriend?" You joke and he chuckles while laying back with you.

After a moment a silent settling in, Wonwoo sighs, "I'm sorry for making you worry."

You press your cheek against his chest, "It's okay. I'm just glad you're okay and nothing is injured."

Wonwoo kisses the top of your head once more and before he starts to fall asleep again, mumbles, "Me too."

#kpop #kpop imagine #seventeen #seventeen imagine #seventeen wonwoo imagine #seventeen wonwoo #wonwoo #wonwoo imagine #jeon wonwoo imagine #jeon wonwoo #writer-k-pop

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vizowrites · 3 years

Text

My BlitzStrike Twins: Headcanons and Shenanigans~ [probably with a bit of my M&M kids thrown in just for fun]

So today I got a couple of fantastic asks about Blitz and Striker as parents, and since there seemed to be a pretty positive response to them--and because @helluva-simp is amazing and encouraged me to be brave enough to write this up--I thought I’d go ahead and make a full post of my headcanons for these two little devils. I really do love the hell out of them and hope you guys enjoy hearing about them too!! <3 <3

Twist’s and Ty’s full names are Twister and Typhoon but literally nobody calls them by their full names ever so they like to make the joke of “the ‘-er’ and the ‘-phoon’ are silent”

Ty is actually the older of the two [though not by much] but everyone thinks that Twist is because his name is always called first. It’s always “Twist and Ty” [or just collectively “Twist-Ty”] instead of “Ty and Twist”. Ty honestly doesn’t mind that much as far as following after his brother goes, just don’t make the mistake of trying to label him as the younger of the two. There are a lot of things Ty’s perfectly content to let Twist take the lead in, but having the title of “the older twin” is just going too far.

Twist and Ty are mirror twins, meaning that they’re mostly identical except for a few key things: 1. Twist is left handed and Ty is right handed, 2. they both have heterochromia but Twist’s eyes are Left: Red | Right: Green-Gold whereas Ty’s eyes are Left: Green-Gold | Right: Red, 3. Twist has a birthmark on his right hand and Ty has his birthmark on his left hand--and yes when you put the two marks together, they form a design not unlike the heart shaped one on Blitz’s forehead :)

Both of the twins are incredibly agile, but Twist is faster and Ty is more flexible

Striker affectionately calls Twist “Whirlwind” because of said fastness

Blitz affectionately calls Ty “Noodle” because of said flexibility

.....Though it should be noted that it’s not all fun and games because Twist is CONSTANTLY crashing into things or tripping over his own two feet from going too fast, and Ty is so flexible that he’s able to contort himself into positions that honestly make both of his parents throw up a little in their mouths with the split-second panic of “OH GOD OUR BABY WAS BORN WITHOUT BONES!!” DX DX They’re both usually just fine tho!! :D

As noted in an earlier post--but I want to say it here too--Twist’s first word was “Bang!” and Ty’s first word was “Fuck!” Twist was the first one to talk, though, and it made Striker and Blitz second guess the context of his first word by the time Ty said his. XD

Another thing that was noted in another post but I want to put it here too is that Twist and Ty have incredibly high self esteem and both Striker and Blitz wouldn’t have it any other way

Twist is dyslexic and so gets easily frustrated when he has to read a book, but he love love LOVES the hell out of stories.....and so Ty is almost constantly making up random stories to tell him

This actually also works out well in Ty’s favor because Ty’s attention span is about as short as Blitz’s patience and he has a lot more fun telling stories than he does sitting still long enough to read the ones that other people made up unless it’s a book about something he’s reeeeeeally interested in

It’s also made Ty hella good at bullshitting on the fly, which I think most of the older/adult members of his family wish he was a lot less convincing at

Twist knows how to lie and is a natural at acting, but his flair for the over-dramatics tends to give him a way a lot easier than his twin

They both have what I’m calling a “hierarchy of obedience” within their family which really translates into a range of “eh I can think about maybe listening to this person sometimes” to “oh SHIT I need to listen to this person 5 fucking minutes ago”. For Twist, his hierarchy of obedience is: Millie --> Blitz --> Striker --> Loona --> Moxxie. For Ty, his hierarchy of obedience is: Loona --> Millie --> Blitz --> Striker.....and Moxxie doesn’t even make the list for him because honestly I’m pretty sure Ty just naturally tunes him out most of the time and not even fully on purpose. As he puts it: “You just have one of those voices”. XD

Ty can sleep literally anywhere and on anything. I’m pretty sure there have been mornings where Blitz and Striker have to play the game of 'Where the hell is my kid??' because they THOUGHT that he went to sleep in his bed like their other child did but NOPE they go into their room in the morning to get them out of bed and are just like, “.....Twist where the hell is your brother??” and Twist just gives an innocent shrug and says, “I don’t know--probably on the roof or something.” u3u and goes out into the kitchen to make himself breakfast--and then two seconds later Blitz and Striker hear him calling out “NEVER MIND! HE’S IN THE OVEN!!” and that starts off a whole new kind of panic because they know damn well that Twist’s favorite thing to have for breakfast is cinnamon rolls XD

Twist’s laughter is infectious--this really cute witch-like cackling that just bubbles out of him in the most adorably genuine way when he’s that delighted about someting

Ty does this adorable thing where--when he sticks his tongue out at someone--he flicks it in a very snake-like fashion and even gives the tiniest of hisses in lieu of a raspberry when he does it

Ty also manages to twist himself into the most uncomfortable-looking positions when he sleeps but rest assured, he’s never been more comfy

Twist’s tail never stays still. It is constaintly flicking to and fro, back and forth, swishing and swirling like a cat’s tail, and he loves flicking it in front of people’s faces to get their attention

Twist in general doesn’t really stay still very often but the one time he did was when Ty broke his arm--and then he spent almost every moment of the day and night plastered to his side because he knew it was driving Ty crazy not being as mobile as he usually is while having to wear a cast

The twins really don’t ever go that far apart from each other. If you look and only see the one, you can rest assured that the other one is around somewhere nearby and it’s probably not a good sign for you if you can only see the one.

Ty is much more of a biter when it comes to self-defense and Twist always goes straight to using his claws

Twist is the outwardly more protective twin and is vicious with his words when defending his brother. He will force every last ounce of moisture out of your body from how hard he makes you cry.

Ty, on the other hand, will fuck you up hard physically if you try to hurt his twin--and Lucifer himself would not be able to save you if you actually do hurt his twin

As they get older, and their sexualities and gender develop and grow, Twist would discover that he’s a nonbinary he/they homosexual panromantic and Ty would discover that he’s a genderfluid he/she pansexual homoromantic

The above being said, both Twist and Ty wholeheartedly say “fuck you and your gender norms” from a very young age and well into their teenage and adult years, with Twist enjoying painting his nails and Ty carrying all of his stuff around in a purse--and they both have a preference for wearing high heeled shoes [Ty because he just likes being tall in general and Twist because he likes being specifically taller than his parents because it drives them crazy XD]

Twist and Ty’s best friend is “Missi” [Moxxie and Millie’s eldest daughter, Missile] and she’s honestly an absolute hero for putting up with as many of their shenanigans as she does

Whenever they go out on family outings, Twist is that kid who just NEVER wants to leave--and so Blitz usually, after spending ten minutes of trying to get him in the damn van and Striker even using his Dad Tone (TM) and that not working, will just be like, “Alright kiddo, I tried playing nice. You asked for this.” And he puts his fingers to his mouth and whistles with a, “Loona Sweetie? Fetch.” >3 And Loona gets the BIGGEST grin on her face and Twist gets the biggest “oh shit I’m so fucking screwed” look on his face and Ty--who’s honestly probably very awkwardly coiled up in Striker’s arms because after a long day of family fun he’s tired af and decided that he doesn’t want to use his limbs anymore--just kind of looks over at his twin and says, “I believe in you, but also maybe try to run faster than last time” u3u

I think that they would both love their Auntie Barbie a lot and she would have soooooooo much fun teaching them different circus tricks--especially how to yeet each other back and forth on the trapeze XD

I also think that their Auntie Barbie would really love just how close they are.....and probably inspire her to make up for lost time in her relationship with her own twin too

For some reason I can’t shake the thought of the twins being great at acapella and I have no idea why but I’m also ttly here for it XD

In school, I feel like Twist’s favorite class would be Art [he loves to paint and happily makes all kinds of messes with his “expressing creativity”] and Ty’s favorite class would be P.E./Gym [because he loves testing the limits of his physical body]

Family game nights are always fun in their household because usually what happens is Twist and Ty team up against Blitz and Striker, and while they’re in the middle of duking it out, Loona ends up getting a monopoly on every street and is just like, “Pay up fuckers.” u3u

Moxxie and Millie both love and hate babysitting for the twins because on the one hand, they love them to pieces and love seeing how well they get along with their three kids, but on the other hand.....the twins keep finding Millie’s strap on and putting it on their middle child [Mark]’s head and calling him a “cockicorn” XD

Ty’s favorite food is ramen noodles and Twist spent three weeks [and probably set their kitchen on fire at least twice] learning how to make them with JUST the right flavor profile that he knows his brother likes the best

While I think both of the twins know that they can talk to their dads about anything, I think that they still keep their most personal thoughts reserved only to themselves and each other

Twist’s favorite type of weaponry tends to be more of the flashy ‘sharp and pointy’ kind whereas Ty’s favorite type of weaponry tends to be more of the aggressive ‘point and shoot’ kind. However I honestly kind of think that in terms of what they’d use themselves in the field, Twist’s primary weapon of choice would be a whip [though he would definitely have some throwing knives and handheld revolvers in his back pocket too] and Ty’s primary weapon of choice is honestly poisons. Assume that everything this kid has that he throws at you--be it a knife or a bullet or even a fucking cannonball--is poisoned somehow.

They both definitely play wrestle like Blitz and Barbie did as kids.....and just like Blitz and Barbie, they also get their horns tangled together more than once and need to have someone come rescue them. There’s almost always a photo taken that gets posted to Voxtigram first tho. XD

There are plenty more headcanons where this came from but I feel like this is already waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay too fucking long so I’m going to go ahead and stop here for tonight!! If you guys are interested in hearing more about these two, please please please feel free to let me know and I’d be happy to write up a Part 2 to this, or just overall write up a quick little oneshot with them in it, or if you want to send me specific questions about them that I can answer, feel free to do so!! Thanks so much again and I hope you guys have as much fun reading these as I did writing them up!! <3 <3

#vizowritesheadcanons #BlitzStrike twins #ocs: Twist and Ty #BlitzStrike #Striker x Blitzo #Blitzo x Striker #Helluva Boss AU where Blitz and Striker are parents #I.M.P. family fun #kid AU

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xomarauders · 3 years

Text

posted this on ao3 awhile back and had a hard time getting tumblr to upload it, but it finally worked so here you go

content warning for referenced child abuse

The warmth of summer filtered through the window, casting rays of sunshine across the floor of James Potter’s bedroom carpet where Remus was splayed out, tracing patterns into the ridiculously soft material. He was sure that James charmed it to keep it so fluffy, otherwise it would not have survived the footfalls of four, rowdy boys that found refuge here during the summer. It used to be only the three of them—James, Remus, and Peter, that is—until Sirius was able to join permanently halfway through the summer season. His parents had never allowed for him to visit the Potter’s while he was still living under their roof, but now that the raven-haired boy had run away and was officially disowned, well, Remus was sure the carpet would have wilted under Padfoot’s grubby paws by now.

Either way, Remus was sure that there was nothing better than laying on James’ charmed carpet with his three best friends, listening to music from the record player—that had also been charmed to work without electricity—and chatting about whatever came to their minds. They were all sat on the floor aside from Sirius, who was perched in the window, smoking, and watching as the birds flew around outside. Remus smirked—the boy really was such a dog.

“It’s our last years at Hogwarts, boys,” James announced as he pushed his glasses further up his nose, “what are we going to do once it’s all over?”

It was a question that held a lot of weight, depending on how you looked at it. What were they going to do as far as it came to pranks and leaving their legacy at Hogwarts or what were they going to do as soon as they graduated. Maybe get jobs, possibly go to university, more likely join the Order to fight a war they didn’t start. Remus didn’t care to think about any of these things. His future had been something he considered to be doomed since he was four years old and suddenly had to share his mind with a beast that tore apart his body every month. He had never even planned on having the life he had gotten—the chance to go to Hogwarts, to make friends…to fall in love.

He cast glance toward Sirius, whose own gray eyes were already looking to Remus, a thoughtful expression on his face. Remus grinned at him, tilting his head so that his curls fell into his eyes. Sirius smiled back, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He’d been smiling like that a lot, lately. Remus made a mental note to ask him about it later that night.

“I don’t know about you lot, but I have no idea what I’m going to do without all of you around,” Peter said.

“Don’t worry, mate,” James said, patting Peter on the shoulder, “you can’t get rid of us that easy! Marauders till the end, right?”

There was a certain admiration that Remus held for James Potter, the savior of the cursed and the damned. He had banded them all together; the timid boy, the broken werewolf, and the wayward heir to make a family. Remus would never be able to repay James for the unconditional love he’d shown him, but he was willing to try everyday for the rest of his life.

“Marauders till the end,’ Sirius repeated, extracting himself from the window as he put out his cigarette. He joined them on the floor, laying down next to Remus and pressing himself tightly against the other boy. Remus wrapped his arm around Sirius, partially out of habit and partially because it was what Sirius needed, something he was starved of. Touch had been something of a guessing game between the two of them ever since they started their relationship. Neither of them were quite used to being touched in such casual ways until they became friends with James—who was constantly giving out hugs like they were candy—and starting a relationship had made the concept even more confusing. Not only did they have to think about what sort of casual touching was okay for each of them, but now they had to factor in intimate contact. Kissing was okay, just as long as they were alone in the safety of Remus’ four poster bed or hidden in one of the various alcoves they had discovered while creating the Marauders Map. Remus thought it might even be okay here, in James’ bedroom, to sweetly kiss his boyfriend without fear of judgment or ridicule. Still, he let Sirius make those decisions, allowed him to initiate any sort of contact between them because while Remus’ aversion to touch stemmed from not being able to trust himself, Sirius’ came from not being able to trust others. He was easily spooked by any sort of sudden movement that came his way, a side effect of Walburga Black’s outstanding parenting skills, and no amount of James’ casual hugs or Remus’ gentle caresses have seemed to break him of this habit.

“What are you thinking about, Moons?” Sirius whispered. James and Peter were too busy arguing over which record to play next to notice their other two friends.

“You,” Remus said easily. Sirius blushed—an image Remus would never tire of seeing—and reached up with his slender fingers to brush away the curls that had fallen in Remus’ eyes.

“Me,” Sirius said, a hint of astonishment in his voice.

Remus wished Sirius wouldn’t sound so surprised at the idea of someone thinking of him. It hurt to know that Sirius did not quite value himself the same way Remus, James and Peter did and it was times like these where Remus wanted to meet Walburga and Orion Black in person just so he could give them a piece of his mind.

“Lads,” James said, throwing himself on top of them unceremoniously, “let’s head on downstairs. I think mum’s made dinner.”

The four of them trailed down the stairs, Sirius holding Remus’ hand while James raced ahead to slide down the railing. Fleamont was in the parlor, reading the newspaper and looking up as the boys made their presence known. He greeted them all, and asked James in a calm tone to perhaps not ride the staircase like a broomstick. James at least had the decency to turn red before assuring his dad it would never happen again (everyone knew it would). Euphemia was in the kitchen, apron tied around her waist and her gray hair up in a knot on her head. Sirius leaned in and kissed her on the cheek, and she gently reached out to him, not quite taking his face in her hands until she saw the smallest nod of permission.

“My darling,” she said, her eyes welling up with tears, “you look well.”

Remus knew what Euphemia was thinking about as she took in Sirius’ appearance. It was the same thing he had thought of over and over again as he laid in bed at night, his arms wrapped tightly around his boyfriend in attempt to keep him safe from the nightmares that occupied his mind. The frail and beaten Sirius that had collapsed on the Potter’s doorstep those few weeks ago had been nursed back to health by the healing powers and carefulness of Euphemia Potter. Still, it was hard to get that image of Sirius lying half dead out of Remus’ mind. He could hardly imagine what it was like for Euphemia who had seen the worst of his injuries after shoving everyone else out of the room in order to heal him. James, Remus, and Peter had stayed up all night, waiting outside the spare bedroom door where they could hear Euphemia sobbing over Sirius’ sleeping form. Remus would rather have faced the full moon a hundred times instead of waiting those long three days for Sirius to wake up.

“Thanks, mum,” Sirius said. The four boys crowded around the kitchen table, eagerly reaching toward the various dishes Euphemia had spread about. Fleamont had joined them, sitting between his wife and Sirius. James immediately went for his mother’s main dish, filling his plate full before passing it to Peter, who was already nibbling on some naan. Remus loved Euphemia’s cooking. It was different than that of his mother’s—not that he would ever pass up his mam’s wonderful Sunday dinners—and he was happy to able to enjoy the different flavors offered whenever he visited. Euphemia always made far too much, making sure that everyone got their fill as well as some leftovers. She was an angel, truly.

Sirius did not fill his plate as full as the others. He was still very thin, with his jaw looking more pronounced and Remus knew his hipbones were a bit more jutted out. Punishments at Grimmauld Place were harsh and Sirius had been starved well into the first few months of summer. It was still a process, trying to get him to eat without getting sick, but they were managing best they could. Remus watched as Sirius poked at his food, looking a bit scared of it before setting his fork down and letting out a frustrated sigh. James looked up from his own plate, regarding Sirius with a look of concern from across the table.

“You okay there, Padfoot?” He asked, keeping his tone light but Remus could see the worry in his dark eyes. Sirius nodded, picking up his utensils once more.

“Yeah. I’m fine, just…” He trailed off, looking down at the table and not daring to meet anyone’s eye. Remus felt a sudden need to shield Sirius away from everyone else’s intense gaze, the wolf within him becoming quite territorial. He pushed those feeling away, not permitting the wolf access to its most basic instincts in the fear that the wolf might be visible on the surface. Still, even his human mind seemed to want to take Sirius away from the scrutiny.

“Darling,” Euphemia said, “you don’t have to eat it all. Just a few bites of naan if you can bear it. Just to keep up your strength.”

Sirius smiled tightly at her but did not move to eat. The rest of them reluctantly picked at their own food, trying to keep things as normal as possible. Fleamont engaged his son in conversation about Quidditch, asking after the Gryffindor team and what he thought their chances were this upcoming school year. Peter politely asked after the herbs Euphemia was growing in her kitchen—he had a thing for herbology—and she answered each question with detail. Remus turned his attention to Sirius, his hand coming to rest on the older boy’s knee. Sirius flinched slightly and then blinked as he realized it was only Remus.

“Do you want to go on a walk?” Remus asked quietly, rubbing circles with his thumb into Sirius’ thigh. The other boy nodded, standing quickly, and exiting the kitchen. The conversations happening came to an abrupt halt and Remus could feel James’ gaze turn towards him. He looked to his friend, a silent conversation passing between them.

Is he okay?

No, but he will be.

Remus walked out, trailing through the living room and out the back door which lead to the Potter’s spacious garden. When Remus had first visited the Potter’s home when he was thirteen, he had the startling realization that James Potter was very well off. It was a bit daunting, especially since Remus’ whole house could probably fit within one room of the mansion and he had been a bit nervous to even touch anything in fear of breaking it. Of course, Fleamont and Euphemia were no stranger to rough-housing, having known exactly what they were getting into with their own son, and Remus’ worries were quickly put to ease when Euphemia simply waved her wand at a vase that had tragically fallen to the floor amidst their game of dog-pile on Peter. Young Remus had almost forgotten that magic existed outside of Hogwarts, and he was in awe at seeing performed in such a domestic setting.

His favorite part of James’ home though was the garden. It was so big! There were wonderful trees that provided much needed shade on hot summer days, and pools of water run by magic to keep the vegetation alive. There were many times the boys pretended to be magizoologists searching for creatures in a jungle, or highly trained aurors on the hunt for evil wizards and—Remus’ personal favorite—pirates looking for treasure. It was a place filled with joy and adventure and even as the boys got older, it remained their sanctuary. Sirius had spent a lot of time in the garden since he arrived, sitting by himself beneath the starlit sky, crying out for his brother and the family that had hurt him. Remus had watched in privately, not daring to intrude on such moments, but wanting to be within reach just in case.

Sirius sat there now, next to a bed of deep red roses, softly running his fingers across the petals. Remus walked up, careful not spook him, and sat down beside him. He flickered his eyes in Sirius’ direction and noticed the other boy had started crying, but he did not pry. Now was not the time for that. Instead, he let his fingers trail through the grass beneath him and let his words fall lazily off his tongue.

“I read a new book at the beginning of summer,” Remus began, his tone light. “Mrs. Dalloway. It was a quick read. The entire novel takes place over the course of one day, how interesting is that? It’s become one of my favorites I think. Woolf is a great author—Virginia Woolf, she’s the one who wrote it.”

Sirius seemed to perk up at this. “Woolf? Could you be anymore ironic, Moony?”

A light laugh escaped Remus. “Believe me, I know. Mum was worried about that when she got it for me.”

The tension snapped back into Sirius as quickly as Remus realized his mistake. Hope Lupin was a generous woman, young and vibrant with a taste for progressive ideologies and love for everyone she met. She adored her son and kept him safe, never shying away from him despite his affliction with lycanthropy and Remus sometimes forgot how lucky he was to have her in his life until he was sat next to Sirius and realized that the Hope Lupin’s and Euphemia Potter’s of the world were unfortunately not the norm for everyone.

“They hate me,” Sirius says abruptly. “They hate that I don’t agree with them. That I don’t want to fucking pledge my allegiance to some dark lord who wants to kill all my friends and I—” he chokes off, a sob escaping him, “I don’t want to care, Remus. I don’t want to be bothered by the fact that my mother would rather curse me instead of hug me and that my father would rather have me dead instead of tarnishing his precious family name. But I do. I do care because they should care. I’m their son, I am their fucking flesh and blood and if blood is all that matters to them then why don’t they care about me?”

There were tears in his eyes as he looked at Remus, tears that Sirius had been holding back ever since he was eleven years old and discovered that parents were not supposed to punish their children for wanting to be loved, the pain and anguish of that realization that had built up over time finally reaching a breaking point. Remus’ own heart was breaking as he stared helplessly, not knowing what to do. These were not problems children were supposed to have. They were supposed to be young, careless, and dreaming up pranks to pull once they got back to school. Instead, they had to contend with a looming war and parents who were cruel and a curse that transformed you into a monster. This was their life, and it would never be easy, Remus thought, not for them.

“Sirius,” Remus whispered, “there are no words I can say to express to you how sorry I am that you’ve had to deal with any of this. Your parents…they’re wrong. They are so fucking wrong and they are so fucking blind for not being able to love you. You are the most loveable human being. You’re generous and caring and you…you take notes for me. When I miss class. And you always make sure my pillows are nice and fluffy after the moon and you rub those soothing salves on my skin at night. And you make me that special tea whenever I’m sick and you read to me when I can’t sleep. You kiss me like it’s the first time every time and you love me like it’s the only thing you’re meant to do. You clean James’ glasses for him and you make sure his Quidditch gear is ready to go on game day. You help Peter study and you let him go on and on about divination with you despite it being your least favorite subject. You’re the first one up to dance with Marlene at the parties and you braid Lily’s hair whenever she’s feeling upset over her sister. You are one of a kind, Sirius Black. You are a good friend and a good brother and you are the love of my life. Believe me when I tell you that you are loved.”

Sirius stared at him, the tears falling from his eyes leaving trails across his cheeks. He reached out for Remus, pulling the taller boy closer to close the distance between them. Sirius’ lips met Remus’, a tender kiss filled with gratitude and love and the promise of forever. When Sirius pulled away, his eyes were still shining, but there was new fervor there, a look of life that Remus had not seen reflected in those silver orbs for a long time.

“I love you so much,” Sirius said. And he smiled genuinely for the first time in months.

Remus smiled back. “I love you, too.”

“Come on,” Sirius said, standing up and offering his hand. “Let’s head back in.”

79 notes · View notes

hotchscvm · 3 years

Text

love me, hate me - part one

Warnings: swearing, angst if you squint, mild violence

Word count: 3.7k

Summary: Who knew Ransom would get so worked up about a few stolen beers?

Or: In which he's a sucker for you but those were his favorite beers.

He didn't know why he put up with your shit. If you had been anyone else, you'd be working at a dead end job that barely covered your bills instead of walking around the mansion in your brand new Lois Vuitton purse, Jimmy Choo heels that screamed for him to fuck you, and a tight dress he wanted to tear off.

You even had the balls to call him Hugh, a name he specifically reserved for the help. When he informed you, you had rolled your pretty powdered eyes, sneering at him for being an inconsiderate asshole before asking why he wasn't calling himself Hugh due to the massive help sign that was disguised as his cashmere sweater.

Ransom didn't know if he wanted to hurt you or make you his. He preferred the latter but with the way you were pushing him, he wouldn't be surprised with himself if you somehow found yourself in the backseat of his car, tied up and awaiting for him to fuck you senseless. If you had been anyone else, he would ruin your life without hesitation.

He tried to hate you, he really did and usually, it wouldn't be hard for him to hate someone. Most of the time it barely took him a glance for him to decide to loathe the person. But as he tried harder to hate you, forget you, and ignore you, the more you wiggled your way into his every thought. Even then he couldn't hate you. It made part of him want to ditch family gatherings where he knew you would show, being Meg's best friend, and another part of him was exhilarated.

You on the other hand dreaded being dragged into another Thrombey's family gathering where it all ended in arguments and racists comments. The only people you were able to stomach were Harlan, his adorable nurse, Martha, and of course, your best friend Meg. Whenever the conversation began to look like a shouting match, the two of you would sneak away to get high with the maid, Fran.

Ransom was an asshole, a hot, smoldering asshole with enough snarky remarks that would make any sane person hang themselves. You knew he wasn't a fan of yours, which was only good news for you; you hated him, too. The expression "there's a little bit of good in everyone." applied to everyone except him, not that you weren't surprised. Truth to be told, you wouldn't put it past him to kill a family member if they pissed him off enough.

With the number of jabs you made at his expense, you were shocked he hadn't ruined your life yet. Maybe you had a death wish dangling over you, or maybe you just liked pushing him but you made it your little mission to ruin his evening since yours would be the second he stepped in the room.

Meg nudged you with her elbow, leaving a sore spot on your ribs. You gave her a dirty glare, looking up from your Instagram feed. She motioned to the large mansion ahead, the car slowing. "Okay, the plan is to get drunk, but not enough for my drunk relatives to notice and once they're having one of their dumb-ass debates, we sneak off to Fran's room and smoke a few. That sound good?"

Stretching, you nodded, tucking your phone away. "Yeah, that's fine. Remind me how I ended up spending Thanksgiving break with you, again? What did I ever do to deserve such a punishment?"

"You crushed your parent's wishes on becoming a lawyer, instead became an Instagram model, and the holidays with them are too long for you to hear how their daughter could've convicted criminals instead of posting bikini pics," Meg replied, grinning at your sarcastic pout. She stopped the car right beside her mom's. "Come on, it won't be that bad."

"That's what you said last time. Do you not remember how that little reunion ended?" you asked, opening the car door and getting out. The little gravel on the cemented driveway crunched under your new heels, making you grimace.

Meg shut her door, grabbing her purse. She waited at her side of the car and you both walked up to the door. "Actually, I don't. I'm surprised you can especially with all the weed you smoked."

Rolling your eyes, your mind wandered to the man who had killed your buzz. "Your asshole of a cousin ruined my buzz just by opening his mouth. He could be so much hotter if he never utters a single word ever again."

"Please stop talking about Ransom, it's making my lunch come back up." Meg whined, her feet trudging up the steps. Your heels clicked on the wooden porch. "Which reminds me, he kept asking if you were going to be here. Be careful, he might have a little trap to humiliate you in front of my family. If that happens, just knee him in the balls, and we can go to Cabo or something."

You made a face, cringing just thinking of Ransom asking about you, let alone imagining some kind of plan to embarrass you. "Ugh, what a dick. It's time like this that I regret not going back to my crazy family for holidays."

"You'll be fine. Hopefully. Let's go see Harlan." she opened the door, taking off the lush coat draped over her shoulders before placing it on the spacious coat closet by the entrance. She held her hand out for yours and you slid it off handing it over for her to hang up.

Martha greeted you before you could take another step, the Latina smiling at both of you. "I'm so glad both of you are here. The rest came in before you and they've been bickering since."

You both gave her knowing smiles, the loud discussion so heated you could hear it from all the way across the house. Meg sighed, snaking an arm around yours and Martha, pulling you towards Fran's quarters. "Looks like Harlan will have to wait. I'm not going in there sober."

Martha shook her head, slipping her arm out from Meg's grasp. "Sorry, I don't drink and I have to serve them before they get any rowdier. Between the three of us, I'd rather not see another fist brawl this holiday."

You let out a dry chuckle, fixing the hem of your dress. What were you thinking wearing such a tight dress to a party where Richard Drysdale would mentally undress you with his beady eyes. "We'll come with you, now won't we, Meg?"

She groaned, getting pulled by you, her feet dragging on the hard floor. "We're spending Christmas at your parents' house. You can suffer the family drama because I've had it up to here with mine."

"Oh, you big baby." you teased, following Martha to the living room with Meg in tow. You'd think with all the drama she endured from her crazy mother she'd be able to handle a little more from her crazy relatives. "Wanna mess with that racist, whiney troll?"

Meg's lips lifted into a smile. "That's why you're my best friend."

Martha took a turn towards the kitchen instead of the living room, leaving you and Meg to enter the roomful of crazies alone. Some heads turned but not enough to stop the little debate happening.

Jacob sat at the uncomfortable seat in the corner of the room, watching and tapping the screen in front of him, his eyes never tearing from the device. Linda and Donna sat side by side while their husbands had a screaming match with the other. Joni stood by the fireplace, sipping her wine, and occasionally input some random Pinterest inspirational shit. Your eyes landed on the man you thought would take his sweet time arriving.

Hugh Ransom Drysdale sat at his self-proclaimed seat, eating his Biscoff butter cookies, a smirk evident on his face as he watched you walk into the room. He tried to ignore the way his heart raced, blaming it on the cookies and his seven-month dry spell.

You broke free from Meg's arm, pouring yourself a flute full of champagne, swallowing every last drop before making your way to the plush couch, sitting beside your best friend. Your perfume whiffed in the air as you passed Ransom, making him sit up in his chair. You sat close enough for him to reach over and touch you, but he didn't.

Linda gave you the warmest smile she could muster, interrupting the men's argument to greet you. "Hello, darling. Glad you could make it. At least now there's someone in the room with half a brain."

Walt sneered at his sister before giving you a half-hearted smile. "Hey, kid. Your dad still adamant you become a lawyer?"

"Yup," you answered, pulling out your phone, seeing a bunch of notifications from said person. "Why else do you think I let Meg kidnap me, Walt? No offense, but Thanksgiving at the Thrombey's doesn't classify as peaceful or relaxing."

Ransom guffawed, earning glares from his family members. He smirked at you, biting off a piece from his cookies. "Finally, someone who speaks the truth. No wonder she's his favorite."

That subject launched another debate: deciding who was Harlan's favorite. It was no doubt, Martha was but you did come at a close second. Ransom knew, and he didn't want to miss an opportunity to watch his relatives fight. He was a dick that way. He glanced at you, seeing your phone light up as you whispered a secret to Meg. You ignored the phone call, turning over the phone.

While the rest of the family argued, you left Meg's side, getting up from the uncomfortable couch, and walked out of the room. Ransom watched you, licking his lips at the sight of sashaying, hips swaying, and heels clicking. The crotch of his pants grew uncomfortably tight.

Meg watched him watch you with narrowed eyes, suspicious by her cousin's behavior. He may be 33 but he still acted like a teen, and with her best friend pushing him, there was no telling what he'd do. "If you do anything stupid or remotely offensive to her, I'll make sure to send her your head for her next birthday. Maybe she'll have it taxidermied, and hang it up."

Ransom smirked, tossing the last of his cookie in his mouth, chewing as he looked down at his cousin. "That'll only give me a view of a lifetime. My, this college you go to doesn't seem to teach manners does it? Charming as ever, Meg."

She scowled at him, getting up in the middle of the argument. She couldn't stop whatever he was planning if she didn't know what he had in mind but she wasn't going to ruin this holiday for her best friend. Meg followed you to the kitchen, seeing you take a shot glass from Martha. "Drinking already?"

"Don't judge me. Lemme wallow in the warmth and love of the alcohol that your family isn't capable of," you replied, drinking the clear liquid, grimacing as it burned your throat. Martha handed you the chaser, her timid personality making her put a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Thanks, Martha."

Meg took the bottle of vodka, pouring herself a shot before offering it to Martha who had shaken her head. "You sure?"

She nodded, placing the bottle back in its place. "Yeah, I don't need to be drunk when serving those people. It seems like it's even worse out there than before."

"Thank Ransom. That bastard decided to start another fight just by opening his mouth," you said, sipping on a glass of water. Sniffing the room, you smelt the Thanksgiving dinner Martha had to cook by herself. You knew she had to make a special meal for Ransom since he wouldn't dare put the traditional food in his mouth. Too bad, it'd shut him up. "Why is he here, anyway? Isn't he usually the last one to get here?"

"Usually, but he came with Linda and Richard. Don't worry, you're not the only confused." Martha answered. The oven timer beeped and she opened it, taking out the pumpkin pie. She held it out. "What do you guys think?"

"Looks delicious," Meg replied, looking around the room. The sun was setting and soon you would have to face Ransom again, for dinner. "Do you need any help, Martha? We could help you set up the table or something."

"No, it's fine. I have everything taken care of," she said, nearly dropping the big turkey. Meg helped her, carrying it to the counter. Martha smiled sheepishly. "I guess I could use some help. Meg, do you mind stirring the gravy? And [Y/N], would you please place some knives at the table?"

Both you and Meg nodded, helping the poor nurse. Harlan must've let Fran have the day off or else she'd be all over this. Meg grabbed a plastic ladle from the drawers while you took a handful of knives, leaving the kitchen and walking to the dining room. The long table had been filled with plates, glasses, and napkins, the only thing missing was silverwares. Harlan would have to give Martha a raise.

You had just placed the first knife down when Ransom came in the room, leaning against the arch, arms crossed as he took you in. Watching you, he realized he might have a knife kink, only when it comes to you. You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to make some kind of remark.

When he didn't, you sighed, tossing a knife onto a clothed napkin. "Yes, you pretentious asshole?"

He chuckled, pushing himself off the wood and walking towards you. "Hello to you, too. Why exactly are you doing that? Shouldn't that Mary girl be taking care of everything?"

Oh, the urge to stab a knife in his face--it was almost too much to resist. "It's Martha and unlike you, I'm nice enough to offer help rather than be a lazy prick who no one loves. Karma's gonna bite you in the ass one day, baby."

Ransom snorts, walking up next to you, so close you could feel the heat coming off of him. "You know, my dear cousin mentioned something about some prank she thinks I'm going to pull on you. Do you know what's going on in that stoned brain of hers?"

"Ransom?" you asked, making your way around the large table, placing knives where they belonged. Gritting your teeth into a smile, you turned to him. "I mean this in the best way possible: fuck off."

He would never dare admit it, to himself even, but that hurt him a little. Not enough to break his smug exterior. "Aw, I like you, too, sweetheart. Hurts when you don't admit you do, too. Want some help on the other silverware?"

Your jaw dropped, the knife slipping through your fingers and Ransom caught it quickly. He placed the knife on the empty, designated napkin. "You're fucking with me."

"No, but I sure would like to fuck you." he grinned, the hidden objective twinkling in his eyes. You rolled your eyes, returning back to the kitchen with Ransom following. "Can't a guy help out around here?"

Ransom grabbed your hand before you could push the kitchen door open. He gently led you to the dark, almost hidden hallway beside the dining room. You snatched your hand back, your elbow grazing the wall behind you. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Spending time with my favorite person," Ransom answered, the smirk gone as he backed you to the wall behind you, leaving you no room to escape. Not that you wanted to. His eyes dropped to your lips, only to darken when yours flashed to his. "Why're you so special? Why do you keep invading my thoughts, my dreams, huh? What're you doing to me?"

That made you smile, amused he couldn't stop thinking about your body. You drag your manicured finger down his blue sweater, earning a shaky breath from him. "Glad to know you have wet dreams about me, Hugh. Hmm, what do you get off to, anyway? Degradation? BDSM? Or are you vanilla in bed? With the way you act, it makes me wonder if you even have a dick."

He growled, slamming you into the wall so hard your head made a loud thud. You'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on a bit. You did like it rough. "Your a guest here, act with respect, [Y/N]. Close that mouth before you say something you'll regret."

"Wouldn't you like it if I used my mouth for something useful?" you breathed, hands resting on his shoulders, pulling him closer to you. His eyes drifted to your lips, tongue darting out to moisten his own. "Yeah, you would."

"What that mouth do, sweetheart?"

You heard the oven timer ding and you smiled, moving your lips to his ear. "Eat."

—

His thigh brushed against yours, a hand "accidentally" landing on your bare thigh, his fingers wrapping around the leg. You flashed him a hard smile before moving your thigh away, almost kicking his wife across the table. You scooted closer to Ransom, hoping to avoid his father's uncomfortable advances. If it wasn't for Linda, you would've stabbed the knife you were holding in his hand.

Apparently, you scooted a bit too close to Ransom for him to raise an eyebrow at you, the hint of a soft grin appearing. You glared at him. "Don't."

Ransom chuckled softly, moving closer, close enough for your shoulders to touch. "Now who likes my company?"

"I do like your company... said no one ever." you snapped, keeping enough distance from Richard's wandering hands. If you could, you would've rip his fingers off, but the Thrombey's were too powerful. Ransom threw you a glance, looking between you and the gap between your chairs. You grit your teeth. "What?"

"I didn't say anything."

You pushed away from the table, frustrated with everything about your situation. Tossing your napkin on your plate, you stood up, catching everyone's eye. "Excuse me."

Meg was in the middle of eating her share of the turkey, looking up with a piece of the skin hanging from her mouth. If you hadn't felt so uncomfortable, you would've laughed. She sat up, tilting her head in question as she covered her mouth. You shook you head, assuring her you'd be fine.

Ransom's eyes followed you as you walked by Harlan, giving him a gentle peck on the cheek and a hug before walking out of the dining room. He didn't think he'd ever be jealous of his grandfather. He waited a few seconds before following you, Meg's narrowed eyes watching him as he walked with purpose—he just didn't know what that was yet.

He heard your door slam before he could take a step up the stairs, leaving him confused on what to do. Ransom knew you would reject his company, not that he would blame you. Yet, he felt a little pang in his chest that he ignored, blaming it on the salty turkey. He'd have to go to the doctor soon, check out what was going on with his heart. It might be something serious like palpitations.

Sighing, he went to the kitchen, grabbing a beer and dragged his feet back to his room, trying to forget about the effect you had on him.

It didn't work.

—

Crawling out of bed, you tiptoed down the hall, careful not make a sound as you made your way downstairs. The stairs were loud and you cringed, hoping everyone was deep asleep. Meg had passed out after smoking Fran's stash, plopping down on her bed in your shared bedroom. She reeked of weed and that hadn't help you sleep at all.

You snuck into the kitchen, the soft counter lights bright in the dark room. Walking over to the fridge, you pulled it open, seeing Ransom's alleged "best" beer right at the front. Rolling your eyes, you grab one, popping the cap off. You took a sip, agreeing with the asshole; it was great beer.

Unfortunately, he chose that right moment to have a midnight snack. The kitchen door opened and Ransom was greeted by the sight of you drinking his beer in your tight tank top and booty shorts. It was enough for him to lose it.

Angrily, he walked up to you, snatching the beer from your hand, some of it dripping on the floor. He held it up in front of you with a sneer on his face. "What the hell do you think you're doing with my beer?"

You flinched when he threw it across the room, the shards sprinkling out on the floor. If his yelling hadn't woken up anyone, that certainly would've. Rolling your eyes, you sighed, crossing your arms. "Don't you mean Harlan's beer? It's not like you bought that beer from your own pocket since you don't do shit."

"Oh, I don't do shit? Unlike you I don't depend on horny men and lesbians for likes in order to keep a roof over my head." he spits, pushing you back against the counter.

"No, you just take money from mommy and daddy." you fired back, amused by his anger. You decided then you had a death wish. Or maybe it was just hot seeing Ransom so riled up. Either way, you weren't complaining.

Ransom growled, hands gripping your waist so tightly you were sure it would leave bruises. "Shut up."

Smirking, you lean towards him, lips hovering his. "Make me."

Before he could kiss you, you shoved him away, took another beer from the fridge and walked away without giving him a second look. Ransom stared after you, gripping the kitchen counter.

This wasn't over.

part two

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans masterlist #chris evans x reader #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #knives out #steve rogers #captain america

214 notes · View notes

miguel-manbemel · 3 years

Text

Roman’s Brightest Idea

It’s been ages since I wrote a story. But today I had an idea for a story full of angst, and then while I was writing it, I couldn’t help filling it with platonic logince, so here you have this short story and I hope you enjoy it.

INDEX POST

Roman was writing in his room, with his finest golden fountain pen. It had all started, as usual, from a little spark, but Roman saw from the beginning that this spark had potential and he decided to develop it into an idea for a story, and finally he stamped his seal on the last page, then put all the papers in a red velvet folder.

“I did it! This time I did it! This is the best work I’ve ever made in my life! This is my brightest creation!”

Roman started bopping and giggling, like he always did when he finished a work he was proud of, which tended to be the majority of works he finished. It was like, for a minute or so, he returned to his five year old self, who reacted the same way when he finished his first ever fairy tale.

“I can’t wait to show it to Thomas! He’s gonna love it!”

And so, Roman grabbed the red folder and sank out to the outer world, looking for Thomas. He found him in the bathroom, having a shower. It was noon and he had just woken up.

“Hi, Thomas!” Roman yelled

“Jeez!” Thomas screamed, startled “Oh, goodness gracious, Roman, don’t do that, you scared the heck out of me!”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself, I’m overexcited!”

“Oh, is that so?” Thomas said while he turned the shower off, then grabbed a towel and got out.

“Yes, because, you see, I’ve got great news, I’ve got a new idea for a story that you…”

“Yes, that’s great and all, but could you talk to me about that later? It’s getting late and I’m still naked, and I still haven’t got my breakfast, then I gotta go to the office fast, I’ve got a meeting today.”

“But this story…” Roman said, his smile had left his face.

“Later, Roman, I promise. I’ve got a long day ahead of me, please try to cooperate with me, okay?”

With that, Thomas put his bathrobe on and headed to the bedroom to get dressed. Roman was left behind in the bathroom.

“Okay, Thomas, if you’re busy I won’t bother you now… I’ll try later.”

Roman sank down and returned to his room. He looked at the red velvet folder.

“Perhaps it’s not that good?” Roman pondered. “Maybe I need to give it some more time before I bother Thomas? He seemed pretty busy… But no, Roman, you gotta trust yourself a little bit. It was a real masterpiece and when Thomas sees it, he’ll agree too!”

Roman waited a few hours.

“I’m tired of waiting. Perhaps Thomas has finished his meeting already. Yep, I think it’s the time to show him my work. Let’s go.”

Roman sank down and he raised up… standing in the middle of the table right on Thomas’ meeting. Nobody seemed to see him except Thomas, who showed a face of horror.

“Whoops…” Roman said. “I guess it wasn’t over yet…”

“Are you okay, Thomas?” one of his team members said “You look concerned.”

“I… I have a little pain on my tummy, that’s all. I didn’t want to say anything to let him finish his exposition, but truth is I could use a little recess to use the bathroom, if it’s okay with you.”

“No, it’s totally fine, I think we all need a break, this meeting has gotten longer than expected.”

“Then it will be 15 minutes. See ya later guys.”

All the meeting members went out of the room.

“I’m sorry, Thomas, I thought…”

“Don’t ever do that again, Roman!” Thomas said with a voice of anger

“But I’ve been waiting all day and I wanted to show you this idea. I warrant you that it’s the best work you could…”

“It’s not the time for that, Roman! You can’t just pop up whenever you want without permission!”

“But this is…”

“Nothing warrants you the right to do that, Roman! If you continue like this, I’m gonna start to think that you’re not so different from Remus after all!”

“Wha…?” Roman face went ajar, his eyes immediately filled with tears.

“Now, go away, and don’t bother me for the rest of the day until I tell you you can come, is that clear? I wanna hear it from you.”

“It’s… it’s clear, Thomas…” a little sob interrupted the sentence but he managed to pronounce it with all the dignity he had left in him. “I won’t bother you anymore.”

“Good, now go. I have to go to the bathroom so that the others don’t suspect. Look what you’ve made me do, now the meeting’s gonna last forever. Go now!”

Roman sank down, then returned to his room. Now the tears were falling down his cheeks. He looked at the red velvet folder. He opened it in an explosion of anger, grabbed the pages and tore them to pieces while he yelled like a wounded beast, then he threw the pieces of paper to the floor and started crying on the table, sobbing so loudly that he caught Logan’s attention from his own room. Logan was repelled by feelings of that kind but still, he couldn’t help but worry about his friend and decided to check on him.

“Roman? What’s wrong, are you okay?”

“What… what do you want?” Roman said mid sobbing “Don’t you see it’s not the moment to bother me, Teach? Leave me alone!”

“I would, Roman, but logic tells me that if I did, that only would be bad for you. I may not be an expert of feelings, and I don’t know a lot of things in that field, but I know that you are my friend. You know you can count on me for anything you want, and I’d be glad to help you if I can.”

Roman looked at Logan, his eyes all red and his makeup all ruined. His face showed then a grimace of hurt as he opened his arms, inviting him to hold him in a hug. Logan hesitated for a second as he didn’t like that sort of affection, but Roman’s devastated face made him realize Roman needed it, so he just went next to Roman and held him tight. Logan could feel Roman’s tears soaking his shirt and the humid warmth of Roman’s breath after each sob muffled on his chest right on his necktie. It was an unpleasant sensation for him, more for the emotional charge that it had that communicated to him how broken Roman was, something he didn’t like to see at all, something that would have hurt him if, he thought, he had feelings like the others. He didn’t know why he had the need to do so, but Logan started petting Roman’s hair while Roman went on crying a river on him.

After a few minutes like this, Roman’s crying slowly started weakening and he finally calmed down. Still, he stood hugged to Roman for a few minutes more in silence, Logan still petting his hair. It was finally Logan who broke the silence.

“Are you okay now, Roman?”

Roman just nodded in silence, still reluctant to let go off Logan.

“Take all the time you need, then tell me what happened.”

Roman still stood hugged to Logan for five minutes. Then he finally let go.

“Thank you, Logan… oh, I’m so sorry, your shirt and necktie are soaking wet.”

“That’s not important, but it tells me that you have lost a lot of hydration, so here…” Logan invoked a bottle of water and gave it to Roman “drink some water, you need it and it will make you feel better.”

Roman started drinking. He really was thirsty as he finished the whole 24 ounces of water in no time.

“Want some more?”

“No, it’s fine. Thank you, Logan.”

“Now tell me calmly and slowly everything that happened, Roman.”

Roman proceeded to tell him how the day was for him. Logan listened to the whole story without interrupting him, focusing all his attention on Roman.

“...and then you arrived” said Roman, finishing the story.

“I see…” Logan said pensively “I can understand Thomas’ reaction to some extent, but I’m sure he didn’t mean to be so nasty to you, Roman. I’d say that you startled him so bad he acted out of instinct, in fear. It was just bad luck and bad timing, that’s all.

“I’m not so sure… Thomas hates me, especially after my appearance in the meeting.”

“I strongly disagree, I don’t think Thomas hates you, Roman. I’m sure under other circumstances, he would have loved to see your story. Thomas has always loved those worlds of fiction you invented for him. Even if I never fully understood them, I knew they made him happy and that was enough for me to approve your labor. You just caught him busy and stressed out, that’s all. And we all say things when we’re angry we regret later.”

“Have you ever been angry in your life, Logan? I thought…”

“Who hasn’t been angry at some point in his life, Roman? No matter if it’s for something that happened to us or something that happened to others or in the world, everyone experiences anger from time to time, it’s as natural as breathing. But anger always calms down and allows us to judge things more calmly. I’m sure Thomas will have that time to ponder what happened and he’ll come to you.”

“Do you think so?” Roman said, then he noticed the floor all full of pieces of papers “Oh, look at what I’ve done… my story idea is all ruined. Now Thomas will never see it…”

“Can’t you rewrite it all again?”

“No, I don’t think so. Once I put an idea into paper, it’s like waking up from a dream, I forget most of it. I could try to rebuild it from the pieces, but it would never be the same.”

“I can help you pick up the papers and maybe from the little pieces…”

“I don’t know, it would take forever and Thomas cannot stay that long without a story idea.”

Thomas rises up in Roman’s room.

“There you are, Roman!” Thomas said.

“Thomas? What… what are you doing here?”

“I’m so sorry, Roman. I couldn’t stop thinking about how I treated you all day during and after the meeting. I hope you can forgive me.”

“It’s okay, Thomas. It was my fault for appearing so suddenly. I thought you had finished the meeting but I was wrong. I apologize too.”

“Well, now I’m totally free for you and I can see that bright creation of yours, if you still want me to.”

“If I still want you to? Nothing would have made me happier, Thomas. Unfortunately, it’s too late…”

“Why, where is it?”

“You’re standing over it.”

Thomas looked at his feet, saw all the pieces of paper and understood.

“Oh, Roman, I’m so sorry… But maybe we can fix it.”

“We could try, but it would take forever and it would never look the same as it was when I first created it. I don’t know if it’s worth the time to try.”

“Yes, it probably would never look the same… but it could look even better than before. Let’s pick up the pieces and get everything we can from them. You are Creativity, you’re not gonna get scared by a little hard work, do you?”

“Of course I won’t. I’ll do my best to reconstruct the idea if you want me to, Thomas.”

“And we’ll recruit the help from everyone, that way we’ll finish it faster, and maybe everyone could give their contributions. It can be a fun task for the rest of the day, okay?”

“Okay, Thomas. I’ll do my best.”

Thomas gave Roman a short but very tight hug that pleased Roman, then called the others. It took a few hours, but everyone together managed to pick up all the pieces, reorder everything they could and, filling the gaps with everyone’s ideas, they managed to create a story that would eventually become one of Thomas’ most viewed and acclaimed videos ever, something Roman would always be proud of, especially because he had the chance to create it with the help of all his friends and that made that his most cherished creation of all.

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #roman sanders #character thomas sanders #logan sanders #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fic #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #logince #platonic logince #angst

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nanowrimo · 4 years

Text

3 Tips to Help You Finish Writing Your Novel (For Real This Time)

Every year, we’re lucky to have great sponsors for our nonprofit events. Hermit, a 2020 NaNo sponsor, is a fast, elegant, and free to use web-based writing application. Today, Alex, its founder and developer, shares three tips to (actually) help you finish your novel:

In this post, I won’t be telling you that you should use Hermit—you can try it out and decide that for yourself. I want to help you finish your project by sharing tips I regularly use when writing software.

Tip #1: Quit while you’re ahead.

The problem with creative projects is that they require a good dose of motivation and inspiration—2 things you can’t buy at a local store. A tip that worked well for me in the past is to quit and take a break whenever I’m thrilled at the amount I got done and feel like I could keep going. I know this might sound counter-intuitive, but the idea here is to make sure you pause your effort while having a positive mindset. If you stop when you’re stuck, the next time you pick it up, that’s all you’ll remember, and it’ll be extra challenging to get motivated. Remember, long projects like writing a novel or software are marathons and not sprints—you have to trick yourself into staying motivated.

Tip #2: Keep a list of to-dos and ideas.

Whenever I work towards a significant milestone, I take a piece of paper or post-it and write down the next four or five things I need to do and a list of potential ideas to investigate. The goal here is to have a list of simple things you can jump in and do whenever you have a bit of spare time. I then add more to-dos and ideas as I chip away at that list. If I accidentally do something that wasn’t on the list, I add it to the list and scratch it off right away—it keeps me motivated. I tell you, nothing makes you feel invincible as a growing list of scratched off items. Make sure there’s always a couple of simple things on that list, and you’ll fly by the finish line in no time.

Tip #3: Keep it a secret.

I’m sure this one will be quite controversial. Talking about your work in progress project to others around you should keep you accountable and motivated, right? Well, it never worked out well for me. Every time I would start talking about a project to a friend, those two things would happen:

I would get a feeling of satisfaction and achievement. Usually, this would be good, but here I would be getting the same feeling I would get from actually completing my project. Nothing hampers motivation like that.

I would create unnecessary pressure on myself to produce something perfect. The more publicly I would talk about my project, the more likely I would take forever to polish it. Keep your project to yourself, and all of a sudden, you have no expectations to live up to—it’s a fantastic feeling.

I hope those tips come in handy next month as you embark on this exciting journey. If you’re still looking for the best writing app, I invite you to give Hermit a spin. It’s free, and the premium features also are for a full year if you subscribe before the end of November.

Alex is the founder and developer of Hermit, a free to use, secure, and lightning-fast writing application for everybody who likes to write, from scribblers to aspiring authors. He’s been continuously improving it over the last 7 years and plans to continue doing so. His next goal with Hermit is to tailor the experience for different writing projects and let authors order physical copies of their work with as little effort as possible. Sign up & subscribe now to get all premium features for free for a whole year.

Top photo by Kat Stokes on Unsplash.

#nanowrimo #writing #amwriting #nano prep #writing advice #by nano sponsor #hermit

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mooshs-crack-headcanons · 4 years

Note

How would the DMC brothers (+ V) be with a full demon S/O?

Dante

Demons can have human emotions, Dante knows that better than anyone, he's seen it happen more than once; like devils crying. Demons can learn to love and feel what humans feel, so why should you be any different? Human or not to him it doesn't matter, if he loves you then he loves you and that's it.

But that's not saying that he doesn't find having a demon partner not cool or anything though, the complete opposite of that! It's badass having someone more closer to his level at his side, and deep down it takes away a lot of the stress of having to keep looking over his shoulder to always make sure that a human partner would be safe. With you being a demon and fighting to protect yourself is in your blood, he has nothing to worry about (but still Dante being Dante there's always a tiny bit of worry he keeps hidden away)

He is absolutely blown away at the sight of your devil trigger! His exact word being:

"God damn, baby! And you said my trigger had a great ass?!"

Your sudden clawed hand across his jaw, which in your human form would barely hurt him for a few seconds, stung him for days.

When the rare occasion when no one else is around the shop and customers are guaranteed not to show up during the day Dante lets a bit of his inner demon out and does what normal demon mates do: nesting. Now his bed is not that big, sure it can fit two average human sized people but it struggles to fit two devils. So the two of you, both in trigger (him preferably for your comfort not Sin Trigger) will both squeeze together as comfortably as the two of you can get in bed and just...pet each other. Yeah. It's very common for demon mates to groom each other, not like cats and lick each other (but I mean that's another choice if you want, I'm not judging 👀) but just run your crawled hands up each other and just...take each other in, basically how demons cuddle by feeling each other's power and stuff, it's quite comforting actually.

There have been most definitely instances where the two of you have both been stabbed by the same sword or something

With your demonic blood being more on par with his, Dante can have more of all balls out training sessions, not on the same level as those with Vergil but more than he normally can do with Nero, Lady, or any other more human-like training partners. Training sessions with you are more like those with Trish and Lucia, other demons, and depending on how strong you are possibly even further than that with both of you scrapping and slicing away at each other in the strongest versions of your DT.

Fights are the number one way for demons to calm themselves. So after your (very violent, but somehow friendly and maybe a little flirty?) spars the two of you will faze back into your human forms and flop on the ground (usually the rooftop of Devil May Cry) and lay in each other's arms complementing moves each other did, heads finding their way into chests and hands brushing at whatever previous that were already healed with healing factor before finding yourselves passionately at each other's lips with all the time in the world seemingly meaningless as the two of you lose yourselves for the rest of the night.

Vergil

Vergil is always one who is attracted by strength whether it be physical or mental, so it's no surprise that he would eventually find himself interested in being with a demon partner, he always did find humans to be more complicated anyway.

Like with Dante, Vergil is quite relieved with your instinctive ability to protect yourself so he doesn't have to keep watch over you 24/7, you're perfectly strong to fend for yourself and he 100% respects that.

Of course, given that have demonic power he's going to want to spar with you, that most of his idea of a 'date' anyway knowing him, and you often don't mind given the natural spark that goes through your blood when it comes to a fight. Vergil isn't the one to be mostly focused on looks, although yes he will admit you are very beautiful with your appearance as well, but he finds strength even more beautiful so it's not a surprise that he finds your trigger to be one of the most beautiful things on earth. The very first few spars you had went on for countless hours just because he desperately wanted to learn everything you could do with it and the two of you got some pretty decent bonding out of it as well.

Oh course the whole thing with Mundus is a pretty touchy subject, especially post 5 after him finally in his true and restored self after the whole Nelo Angelo experience and everything that followed it, and with demon having extremely long lifespans the conversation, even before the two of you get together, of where your alliance was is going to come up at some point. Given your status of working alongside Dante and the others at Devil May Cry, the answer should be obvious but to Vergil it means quite a lot to him given that a complete demon such as yourself would be working alongside a bunch of hybrids and humans to defend humanity and defy your master (your master who’d tortured him for decades), just like his father did. He’s heard Trish’s story from bits and pieces she told him as V and the rest Dante shared with him, but your unknown story deeply intrigues him and when you do get around to telling it and how you were hunted down and almost killed hundreds of times for your betrayal for many years I’d like to say that was the point that he truly started to feel a little small something for you.

He also likes watching when you square off against Dante. Since and his brother have much drastic differences in fighting styles and that it makes sense that you if you’re able to properly stand a match against one brother that you’d be able to fight with the other, so he likes watching how differently that you fight against his brother and even takes notice of you pulling off very different things he would’ve never though of doing against him and you even see him doing new moves similar to yours the next time you see the twins fight.

Vergil has always found human emotions...hard to deal with. So on days he’s feeling frustrated, whether it be because of his brother or his attempts to get connected with Nero being unsuccessful, he likes spending time with you in devil trigger either sparring to just being near one another to let his demon calm himself down.

V, like Vergil, finds strength really attractive. So what if you're a demon? To him that matters very little, not too long after the two of you have met has he already found two of Blake's works that you remind him of (You're a fucking dork, V)

Normally demons he has seen and personally been put up against always seem to fight with this feral clumsiness that has no sense of class to it, you on the other hand seem to fight with all the grace in the world with your devil trigger. V feels taken aback and mesmerized everytime he sees it, how you seem to float effortlessly through air like a leaf in the wind as you dodge and repel every attack sent your way. In these little dazes, it's usually Griffon that has to snap him out of it with a very loud: "Okay! Time to wake up Romeo!" That usually almost makes V lose the grip on his cane and fall before Shadow had to rush over and help him not tip over. Whenever this happens V always gets an interesting shade of pink on his face after he's really taken a moment to realize his fawning over you.

Speaking of his familiars, they sure love being around you! Because their master is in head over heels for you? Eh, partly, but most importantly it's because whenever they're around you they get a power boost off your demon energy, which may be because of the type of demon you are, or it just comes from your emotional bond with V, your choice. So expect most times when Griffon and Shadow are out of their tattoos they swarm over to you and cuddle on over next to you, with Griffon sitting in your lap, Shadow laying up against your leg making the occasional biscuit motion on your thigh, and if V has made his place leaning against your side as he reads his book you might hear the occasional pleased sounding rumble of Nightmare from his hair.

V would never keep secrets from his s/o, human or not, I feel that he would tell you ahead of time during 5 what's going to eventually happen to him and with you being a demon and understanding this more than any human would and I feel like that would be an even more sense of comfort and a little less to worry about and the two of you could just focus on the time that's left.

V is fairly fragile, even in human standards, his body can’t take much making him rely mostly on his familiars to do physically hard tasks for him. So with you being a demon that means you’re without a doubt stronger than him meaning not only can you save his ass in moments that not even his contacted demons can help him that much but also you’re going to have to watch your own strength and make sure you don’t accidentally hurt him doing something like holding too tightly on his hand or something.

Like I said before, V is absolutely entranced by the form of your devil trigger and he likes you in the late hours of the night trigger so he can mindlessly trace the rough or soft feeling of your triggered skin as he finally is able to let himself drift off to sleep.

If you like what you read please consider reblogging! It means the world for writers and artists!

#devil may cry #devil may cry x reader #dante x reader #vergil x reader #v x reader #mine #dante sparda #vergil sparda #v dmc

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morningfears · 4 years

Text

Just Right

Rating: PG | Fluffy af!

Summary: “I found a ring today.” and “I’m not moving, your lap is too comfortable.” With tattoo artist!Ash request by Anon.

Word Count: 1.6k (kind of a drabble?)

The tattoo shop was finally closed, the door locked and the main room quiet, after a long day of clients. The shop’s staff had long disappeared, all eager to leave work behind for the night, leaving Ashton sat in his office alone. The hum of the overhead lights and the scratch of his pencil against paper filled the silence that had fallen over the shop and for the first time since unlocking the door at ten that morning, he felt like he could focus on the design he’d been working on.

It was a simple concept and should have been an even simpler design but he’d been stuck for days, unable to get it to turn out the way he’d imagined. It was as if his hands had a mind of their own and he’d grown frustrated. The trashcan beside his desk was filled with crumpled pieces of paper, each a discarded attempt at the design, and the cup full of pencils he kept on the corner of the desk was rapidly emptying but no matter how hard he worked, nothing seemed right.

It had to be perfect, he would accept no less for this particular piece, and he just couldn’t get there.

Ashton had planned on giving himself enough time to work for an hour after closing before leaving to meet you for dinner. It was written in bright green ink on his desk calendar and programmed into his phone, just so the shop assistant wouldn’t accidentally schedule a client for him, and he’d been looking forward to it all day. You’d both been exceptionally busy, new clients and projects piling up, so it was a relief that you’d finally be getting some time to yourselves. However, as the hour dwindled he lost himself in his work and seemed to be making greater progress than he had since starting nearly a week ago.

His eyes ached and his head pounded, the strain of the day settling in, but he didn’t dare slow down as he didn’t want to interrupt his progress. Instead, he focused on finally finishing. He was so wrapped up in his work that he didn’t hear the sound of his cellphone vibrating against his desk, nor did he hear the sound of the back door opening or your shoes hitting the tile floor.

You stood in the doorway of his office for a long moment, arms folded over your chest and a fond smile on your lips, to watch him work. His eyebrows furrowed and his tongue darted out to wet his lips as he shaded in the drawing. His hands were covered in graphite, stained from the work he’d done, and you smiled at the sight. Seeing him at work, watching as he drew or tattooed, was one of your favorite sights and you always considered yourself lucky to be able to witness it so regularly.

You remained unnoticed for far longer than you thought you would but the scent of Thai food finally overwhelmed Ashton enough that he lifted his head and blinked in surprise to see you standing in the doorway. He looked confused, but happy to see you, until realization hit him.

“Fuck, I missed dinner, didn’t I?” He frowned, dropping his pencil and reaching to rub his eyes before he caught sight of the mess on his hands and grimaced.

“Technically, no. I’ve got dinner right here.” You held up a plastic bag filled with your usual orders before you stepped into his office and crossed the room to place it onto his desk.

“I’m sorry, doll. I’ve been stuck on this drawing for so long and I finally got it to start looking the way I wanted.” He reached out for you and, despite the stains on his hands, you took his hand and let him pull you to stand between his legs. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you laughed, giggling as his hands found your hips. “Don’t worry about it. The restaurant was crowded, anyway. People were waiting for tables so I figured it’d be nicer to eat here where we don’t have to rush. Can I see what you’re working on?”

Ashton reached around you, quickly piling a few pieces of paper on top of the sheet he’d been drawing on, before he grinned at you. “Nope. Not yet. Don’t want you to see this one until it’s finished.” He did that, every now and then, and though you hated not being able to see the progress he made, you respected his desire to keep his work private until he was ready. So, with a pout, you nodded and reached behind you to grab the bag of food.

“Oh, alright. Well, if I can’t see your work, you can at least take a few minutes to have dinner with me.”

Ashton laughed as he released you from his grasp and watched as you wandered around his office, grabbing the utensils you’d left stashed in a cabinet for nights like this. You often ended up here, having dinner with him at his desk after work, and though you appreciated the nights that saw you both dressed up and hitting the town, you treasured any moment you got him to yourself.

As you moved about the office, gathering utensils and two drinks from the mini fridge in the corner, Ashton watched you with a fond smile of his own. You were so good to him, even when he did something stupid like forget the dinner date you’d been planning all week, and he loved you more than he ever thought himself capable of.

Without thinking about it, he announced, “I found a ring today.”

It was no secret that Ashton was going to propose. You’d talked about marriage at length, confirmed that marriage was in the cards for you both, and knew that you were both ready. He’d been searching for a ring, one that was exactly what you wanted, and it seemed that he’d finally found one.

“I thought you spent the day at the shop,” you hummed as you returned to the desk and allowed Ashton to pull you down onto his lap.

“I left to get lunch for everyone. Found a shop I hadn’t tried before.” He took the box of noodles from you and pressed a kiss to your temple as a ‘thank you’ when he opened it to find his favorite dish inside.

“So, I should stay away from your sock drawer, then?”

“I’ll show it to you, if you want. That way I can make sure you like it before I propose,” he joked before he took a bite of noodles.

“Mm, I think I’d prefer to be surprised. I’m sure it’s going to be perfect, you picked it out.”

“Hey, I’m the cheesy one.” He laughed, nudging your side with his elbow, before he nodded. “Thank you for the vote of confidence. I appreciate it. The boys approve.”

“I’m glad. You figure out who’s going to be the best man yet or are you just going to toss their names into a hat and leave it to chance?” You grinned at him, your question ending in a laugh as his own face fell and he released a groan.

“Can I just have three best men?”

“Your three best men are, like, most of our wedding guests, babe. Gotta make some decisions.” You reached out to pat his shoulder and he laughed as he nodded in agreement.

The pair of you had already started planning your wedding, including the guest list, and had settled on a small affair with close friends and family. You knew that he would end up choosing one of the boys sooner or later and you were in no hurry, you weren’t even officially engaged yet, so you let him remain undecided for the time being.

You moved on to a different topic, opting to catch up on what you’d missed in one another’s lives, as you finished eating. You sat comfortably on his lap, content to remain there until it was time to head home, and Ashton noticed as you both placed your empty containers onto the desk.

“I wanted to finish this up before we head home. Do you want to go ahead or wait here?”

“I’m not moving,” you mumbled, turning to place your head in the crook of his neck, “your lap is too comfortable. Can you draw with me here?”

It was, by no means, a comfortable position to draw in but it was possible. And you hadn’t had much time to just be together in recent days so Ashton nodded. “Sure, doll. Just promise you won’t look?”

He rarely made you promise not to look at his work so you nodded, content to keep your head buried against his neck where you could smell the cologne on his skin. “Promise. I’m just gonna close my eyes. If I fall asleep, just wake me up whenever you’re ready to go.”

He knew that you would be asleep in minutes, you hadn’t slept much lately, but that was alright. It’d keep you from looking and ruining the surprise. He was waiting for the right moment to propose, that much you knew, but what you didn’t know was that he was that he was working on a print for you. You were opposed to the idea of a tattoo for a significant other, you firmly believed it was bad luck, but you loved his art so he wanted to give you something special. It wouldn’t be inked onto your skin but it would be permanent enough, framed and hopefully displayed in your future home, and that was enough.

Everything finally felt just right and Ashton was proud to finally know what love really was.

____________________________________________________

Author’s Note: I love the idea that there’s complete communication about something as big as a proposal. Like, a surprise is nice, but knowing that it’s coming and being open about it is important, I think. I don’t know. Anyway, I’m. still working on drabbles, promise. I haven’t written Ash in so long, I missed my boy.

Tag List (like this post or message me if you want to be added!) : @toolazymyguy , @irwinkitten , @jamieebabiee , @glittersluke , @spicycal , @lusbaby , @everyscarisahealingplace, @brokenvirtualheartcollector , @if-it-rains-it-pours, @blisshemmings , @calumscalm , @lovemenowseemenever , @ijustreallylovezebras , @rhiannonmichelle, @p0laroidpictures , @tomscuddles , @loverofmineluke , @harrytreatspeoplewithkindnesss , @blueviiolence , @loveroflrh , @empathycth , @luckyduckydoo , @tobefalling , @bandsandbooksaremykink , @watch-how-she-burns , @megz1985, @wokeupinaustralia , @lucidlrh , @canterburyfiction , @cal-is-not-on-branding , @t-i-n-y-d-i-n-o , @jaacknaano , @findingliam-o , @mindkaleidoscope , @idk-who-i-am-anymore1 , @sammyrenae68 , @flowerthug , @calumsphile , @caitdaniels, @drummerboy794 , @writingfortoomanyfandoms , @x-lover-of-mine-x , @miliefayy , @sunaaii , @canterburyfiction , @sebrox40 , @nati-nn , @opheliaaurora23 , @bitterbethany , @sunnysidesblog , @333-xx , @thesubtweeter, @zhangyixingxing1

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theladyofdeath · 4 years

Text

The Ranch {14}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.

Collaboration: @snelbz x @tacmc

Summary: Nesta had spent years in Paris, living her dream and drowning in riches as a gourmet chef, capturing the hearts of the city and its people. But, after her father passes away unexpectedly and leaves his cozy, countryside B&B to his oldest daughter, Nesta is moving back home to the tiny town of Velaris, where the ranch, her sisters, and her father’s unfulfilled dream, awaits.

Sidenote: Being posted between two blogs, it is too chaotic to keep up with a tags list, so all chapters will be tagged with “#TheRanchNessian” & “#SharaCollab”.

The Ranch Masterlist

When Cassian woke up the next morning, Nesta was gone. She was probably off doing one of the many things on her ridiculously long list, and it was probably wise that she left before he woke up because he would’ve tried to guilt her into staying again.

He’d slept well, but the meds had definitely worn off. He popped a pill into his mouth and washed it down with a water bottle before pulling himself out of bed and hauling himself into the bathroom.

He looked in the mirror and groaned. He looked like shit, which wasn’t a surprise cause he felt like shit. He brushed his teeth and washed his face, all one handed, and then came his hair.

After a couple of attempts - way more than he was willing to admit - it was tied at the back of his head, but now came the part he definitely could not do on his own. He tossed a pair of jeans and a t-shirt on the bed, followed by some socks. Getting his sweats off was no problem, but as he tried to step into his jeans, stumbling, he sighed and sat down on the bed.

“Grown ass man and I have to sit down to put my pants on,” he mumbled, doing just that. He went ahead and put the socks on, then stood and glared at the shirt, knowing he wasn’t going to be able to put that one on by himself. He grabbed it, tossing it over his shoulder. He sighed, imagining how hard Nesta was going to laugh when he had to ask her to help him get dressed. At least he’d get to see that look she gets whenever she saw his abs. Cassian whistled, slipping his phone into his pocket and heading into the living room. No sign of Beau.

Stepping into his boots, he muttered, “Damn woman even has my dog wrapped around her finger.”

He stepped out onto the porch, sun on his bare chest, and made his way up to the main house. He’d go down and get some stuff from his cabin that afternoon, and take the truck to check on the herd, but he’d take it easy. Doctor’s orders.

He climbed the back steps and entered the kitchen. Nesta wasn’t there, which he was half hoping, as he was starving, but he could hear her talking in the living room.

He walked towards the front of the house, saying, “Baby, I need you to gimme a hand.”

He entered the room and found Nesta sitting on the couch, pen and paper in hand. Her back was to him so she was turned around to stare at him, eyes wide in horror. There was a young woman with red hair sitting on the other end, mouth hanging open.

Nesta quickly got to her feet. “Maggie, this is Cassian. Cassian, this is Maggie, she’s here to talk about helping out with the B&B.”

Cassian’s ears burned. “Nice to meet you. Nesta, can we…” He trailed off and pointed to the kitchen.

She said, “Yes, absolutely. Maggie, I’m so sorry, I’ll be right back.”

He headed into the kitchen and she followed him. Cass kept his voice low as he said, “You never told me you had any inquiries, you just posted the ad yesterday.”

“I know, but Maggie called this morning, and was available to talk right away, so I told her to head on over.” Nesta paused and added, “Wait, I texted you all of this.”

Cassian pulled out his phone and looked down at the screen. Indeed, he did have a slew of notifications, with no less than four text messages from Boss. He winced. “My bad, sweetheart.”

Nesta rolled her eyes at his stupid contact name for her and said, “It’s okay.” She raised up on her toes and kissed him. “How’d you sleep?”

“Hard. I don’t remember waking up all night. Hurting this morning though. I took my meds, I wanted to run down and take a look at the herd. And I’m not gonna do anything, so get that look off of your face,” he added, seeing her eyebrows already raising. “I just won’t be able to take it easy until I see with my own two eyes that they're taken care of. But because I’m such a hero and I took a bullet for my best friend, I’m having trouble putting my shirt on. Think I can get some help?”

She let her forehead fall into her hand. “Oh my god, why do I love you?”

He laughed and said, “I love you, too.”

After he sat in one of the chairs, she helped him get the sling off. She awkwardly pulled the shirt on him, one arm at a time and then over his head. “Rhys said he’d come over after lunch to clean that for you,” Nesta said, helping him refasten the sling around his neck and Cass nodded, grateful he had a friend who was not only able to help out but also willing. “Oh, and the new ranch hand is out feeding the horses, if you want to go introduce yourself.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek and started to walk back to the living room.

He was on his feet instantly. “The new- you hired a ranch hand? Without me? Shouldn’t I have been a part of this?”

She looked at him over her shoulder and said “It’s my ranch, and I think you’ll find I made a great decision.” She winked and he heard her talking with Maggie once again.

Cassian was still sitting dumbfounded in the kitchen. He was tempted to yell WHAT THE FUCK but figured Maggie was a nice, young girl who didn’t need to be corrupted with his shocked curses.

“Damn you woman,” he muttered, pulling himself to a standing position and heading out the back door. The meds were finally starting to kick in as he stumbled down the porch steps and into his truck.

After starting the engine, he headed down to the stables. Sure enough, a tall figure dressed in jeans, an old tee shirt, and a backwards ball cap was leaned up against the fence outside of the stables, watching the horses meander about in the pasture.

Cassian threw open the door and got out, slamming it behind him, but the second the man turned around, all weariness and frustration Cassian had from Nesta hiring a ranch hand without him faded away.

He halted, a few feet away from the fence. After blinking a few times, he asked, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Azriel chuckled and said, “I thought she was kidding when she said she hadn’t told you.”

Cassian was staring at his brother not knowing how to respond to that. “I have no idea what’s going on.”

Az shook his head. “I decided the dealership wasn’t a good fit. I thought I liked the mechanical side of ranching, but I was wrong. Elain was texting with Nesta last night and she mentioned y’all could use a hand around here, so.” He lifted his arms and indicated himself. “Here I am.”

“You’re the new ranch hand,” Cassian said, slowly, as if he still didn’t believe the words.

“Seem to be,” Azriel said.

“Here? At this ranch?”

“Unless I’m at the wrong one,” Azriel said, laughing.

Cassian’s mouth broke into a slow grin. “You know this means that you’re, like, my assistant, right?”

Azriel was shaking his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Fuck yeah,” Cassian grinned. The smile on his face matched the relief he felt inside.

He and Azriel hopped in the truck and went out into the back pasture, making sure nothing looked out of the ordinary.

“So,” Cass began. “Woke up to a visit from the cops yesterday morning.”

Azriel raised his eyebrows. “They came here? They didn’t just call?”

Cassian shook his head. “Nope, damn near gave Nes a heart attack. Asked all the generic questions, tried to make this about one of us instead of about Tamlin being a jealous piece of shit with a grudge.”

“I assume you’ll be testifying, too?” Azriel asked.

He nodded. “Yeah, Monday. Are you?”

“Yeah, since I’m the one who took off after him, they need me to recreate my steps for the jury.” Azriel rolled his eyes. “As if us and everyone at that wedding didn’t hear what he said, as if there’s any defense for him.”

Cassian shrugged, wincing slightly. “If it gets him locked up for longer, I’m on board.”

Az looked at his oldest friend. “How are you?”

“Sore,” Cassian said, and when Azriel snorted, Cassian went on. “Looks worse than it is. Nesta worries too much.”

Azriel blinked. “You got a bullet half an inch from your heart, Cass.”

“That’s what I keep hearing,” he mumbled. “I can’t just sit on my ass all day, though, I’d lose my shit. I’m already losing my shit.” Az just stared at him. “Look, I’m gonna be taking it easy, but I can’t just do nothing. You know how I am. But I’m trying for Nesta and for the baby.”

“God, that’s still…insane.” Azriel took his hat off and ran a hand through it. “You’re gonna be a dad. Good luck.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Cassian looked at him from the side.

Azriel raised an eyebrow. “Do you remember what we were like as children?”

Cass looked around them, at the land, the animals, the buildings on the property. “Oh gods, there’s way too many things for them to destroy.”

Azriel laughed. “You’ll be fine, man.” He gently rested his hand on Cassian’s good shoulder. “I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks.” Cass smiled. “So when the hell are you going to make an honest woman out of Elain? Or, are you gonna knock her up, too?”

Azriel groaned, covering his face. “Nesta’s not even been pregnant a week and Elain is asking when I want to have babies.”

“Elain would be a great mom,” Cassian countered.

“True,” Azriel agreed, “but I'm okay with waiting. For a while. A long time. Years.”

Cassian chuckled. “Years?”

“I haven’t even asked her to marry me yet,” Azriel said, as if that answered everything.

“But you’re going to,” Cassian said, and before Azriel could respond, he went on, “And if you don’t, I’m asking for you, because she’s a peach.”

Azriel gave him a rare, full-fledged grin. “She’s perfect.”

“So, you’re asking soon, then?” Cassian asked.

Azriel groaned, once more. “Is this what working with you is going to be like? You constantly butting into my personal life?”

Cassian blinked, then slowly looked over at Azriel. “It’s my job to be the center of your personal life.”

“The center?” Azriel asked, brows raised.

“Obviously,” Cassian said. “There’s Elain, and me, and Rhys. We are the center of your world, so I must know what’s going on with the other two involved, obviously.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Azriel said, shaking his head, but he was still smiling, so Cassian figured he was doing his job well.

He glanced at his watch. “Speaking of my pregnant girlfriend, it’s lunchtime, I’m starving and she’s literally a gourmet chef. So let’s go.”

Azriel laughed. “Alright, I’ll drive. You’re not supposed to and you know it.”

Cass didn’t deny it.

When they pulled up in front of the house, Nesta was on the front porch, standing on a ladder and watering a plant hanging from the ceiling. Cassian was instantly out of the cab. “Babe, be careful.”

“I swear to the Cauldron, if you spend the next seven months telling me to be careful, I’m going to lose my shit.”

“And what does that entail?” Cassian asked. “Losing your shit?”

“Kicking you in the ass,” Nesta said, “Obviously.”

Cassian scoffed. “And you would do that? To someone who's just been shot?”

Nesta rolled her eyes then looked to Azriel. “Can you control him?”

“That’s your job now,” Azriel said.

“Can’t argue with that,” she sighed, climbing down the ladder. “You guys hungry? Lunch is going to be ready soon.”

Cass winked at Az and said, “We could eat. Anything we can work on for you while you’re cooking?”

She turned and looked at him. “Are you trying to trick me into letting you work?”

Cassian raised his good hand in defense. “No, of course not, just offering.”

Nesta rolled her eyes again. “Come on.”

The men followed Nesta in and into the kitchen.

Azriel took a deep breath and groaned. “Smells so good, Nes.”

“Five cheese lasagna, salad and garlic bread.” She said it so matter-of-factly and not like it was a dish that used to be sold at a five-star restaurant.

Azriel whistled. “You made all that for lunch?”

“We eat good around here,” Cassian said, sitting in a chair at the table.

Nesta chuckled as she pulled the lasagna out of the oven, where it was keeping warm. She continued to take out a few plates and filled them for the three of them.

“No nausea today?” Cassian asked.

Nesta shrugged, cutting up the lasagna. “I was, but then the baby started craving lasagna, so here we are.”

“The baby has good taste,” Azriel muttered.

Cassian was quick to agree.

They sat down and ate. Nesta explained to the guys what she wanted done before the opening and Cass ran through his daily tasks with Az. The three of them knew there would be no issue, but it was good to go ahead and start fresh.

“So later on, when you get to the weird part of your pregnancy,” Azriel began, while Nesta loaded their plates into the dishwasher. “When you have random cravings, are you going to make crazy concoctions or just go straight for the pickles and ice cream?”

She laughed. “I don’t know, but I hope it’s easy. So far, I’ve been craving food from other regions that aren’t so easy to make. I don’t exactly want to have to ask Cassian to make me tarte tatin at three in the morning.”

Cassian was eating his second helping and with his mouth full said, “Me either, cause I have no idea what the hell that is.”

Nesta laughed, looking at him over her shoulder. “How did I end up with you?”

He shrugged, stuffing his mouth full with another bite. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

Nesta just shook her head as she explained, “It’s a pastry.”

Cassian blinked, swallowing his food. “I like pastries. I could learn to make a pastry.”

Nesta closed the dishwasher and leaned back against the counter as she looked at Cassian. “The day I see you working in a kitchen is the day that the world ends.”

“Challenge accepted,” he muttered, mouth full of food, once more.

Azriel blinked, shaking his head as he watched Cassian stuff his face. “You really are a slob.”

“Fuck you,” he said, after a drink of water.

Azriel stood, ruffling his hair, and said, “No, thanks, bud. I’m gonna run into town and go pick up my pressure washer. I’m gonna take care of the stables.”

Nesta turned. “Az, no, you don’t have to do-.”

He stopped by her at the counter. “I do. You two have been through enough. Consider it my hazing so this asshole doesn’t do something worse when he’s back in action.” He hooked a thumb back at Cassian.

“Fuck you,” Cass repeated, though this time he was laughing, as he carried his plate to the sink. “I had something planned too.”

Ignoring him, Nesta said, “Thank you, Az. That means so much.”

She hugged him and he said, “That’s what family does, they help each other out. My brother and sister need me. That’s what I’m here to do.” He stepped back and looked at Cass. “I would hug you, but I genuinely don’t know how to do that without hurting you, so…” He shot him finger guns and then he was out the door.

Cass chuckled, shaking his head. “For someone so smart, he’s such a dumbass.”

Nesta laughed. Azriel was the only one of the three of them that she’d remotely remembered. He was an honors student, like she’d been, and they’d shared classes, but likewise to Nesta, Az kept to himself as well. It wasn’t until a drunken night at Rita’s, when Azriel was telling the story of the one time he’d been caught cheating, and Nesta realized it was her test he’d been cheating off of.

An almost sibling like bond was born between them that night and Nesta was glad she was getting to know him better. It let her know that Elain was in good hands.

“Alright,” Cassian sighed, looking at Nesta. “What can I do?”

“Relax,” Nesta ordered.

“I don’t want to relax,” he shot back. “I want to feel useful. Make me feel useful.”

“Be useful while relaxing,” she said, leaving the kitchen.

He followed close behind. “Babe, I need a job. Okay? Any job will do.”

“You’ve only been resting for a day,” Nesta said, laughing, making her way back out to the front porch.

“My pain meds work great,” he argued. “Let me help. Please.”

“You’re not going to give up, are you?” she asked, looking at her line up of hanging plants.

“No. I’m going to annoy the shit out of you, so you may as well let me help,” he said, staring her down.

She turned to meet his gaze, then rolled her eyes. “Fine. Hand me plants.”

Cassian blinked. “That’s my job? Handing you plants?”

“I’m going up on the ladder and it will help if you hand them to me,” Nesta shot back, arms crossed. “Or, you can go back to relaxing.”

Cassian took a deep breath. “Handing you plants, it is.”

One after one, Cassian picked the plants up and handed them to her, and she packed each into soil.

“So,” he began, doing his best not to stare at her ass. “I know you never thought you’d be in this situation, but are there any names you like?”

“Any names?” she repeated, making sure the plant was perfect before climbing back down the ladder and moving it to the next spot.

Cassian snorted. “For the baby.”

Nesta thought about it for a moment as she climbed up the ladder, once more. “I have a list.”

“A long list?” Cassian asked, handing her another hanging plant pot.

“A decent list,” she said, chuckling, taking the plant from him and hanging it up from the hook. She asked for the watering can.

“What’s your number one name?” he asked. “If it’s a boy.”

“I’ve always loved the name Jameson,” she said, watering the plant and climbing back down.

“Jameson,” Cassian mused. “I like Jameson.”

Nesta wrapped her arms around Cassian’s waist. “What about you? Any family names?”

His eyes dimmed slightly. “I don’t have anyone I would name him after.”

Nesta breathed, “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry, I- shit, I’m sorry.”

He smiled and kissed her. “I promise it’s fine. I actually do have one name I like though.”

“Yeah?” She asked. “What’s that?”

He brushed her hair back and said, “Isaac.” Nesta’s eyes welled up with tears. “Is that okay?”

She nodded, closing her eyes and carefully resting her head on his chest. “Isaac Jameson Nazari.”

Cassian blinked. “You… You want to give him my last name?”

“Of course,” Nesta said, “You’re his father.”

“I just…” Cassian began, but his words fell short. “You don’t know how much that means to me.”

Nesta smiled, her hand resting softly against his cheek as she said, “We’re going to be a family, right?”

“Yes,” Cassian breathed.

“Then this baby, no matter it’s gender, or it’s name, will be a Nazari,” she whispered.

Cassian took a deep breath. “If you make me cry, I won’t feel bad about kicking your ass.”

She laughed and leaned up on her toes and kissed him softly. “I love you, more than I can explain.”

“I love you, too.” Cass wrapped his good arm around her waist and tried to lift her to set her on the porch railing. It was way more convenient to kiss her when her lips were at his level.

“No, no, no.” Nesta pushed against him. “Don’t you dare.”

“It’s fine, you’re light, babe.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I can lift you with one arm or two.”

A car door slammed and Rhys said, “Didn’t the doctor tell you two no exciting activities yet?”

Cassian smirked and said, “Sorry, man, she just can’t keep her hands off of me.”

“Oh, shut up,” she laughed, shoving him lightly and moving the ladder down. This time, she carried the carton of small plants up with her.

Rhys made his way up the steps, still in his scrubs. “Cass, really, dude, what the hell are you doing out of bed?”

He shrugged. “I’m taking it easy.”

“Taking it easy means playing Call of Duty from your bed until I say so.” Rhys was using his doctor voice, which meant he was serious. “Seriously, this is your heart we’re talking about here. You’re lucky to be alive. Do you know how easy it is to tweak something just wrong and pop a stitch, especially this early in the healing process?”

Cassian looked to Nesta for support, but she was positioning the flowers in her pot, ignoring them. He was on his own. “Uh, no?”

Rhys called over his shoulder. “I’m taking him home.”

“Then take him upstairs.” Nesta didn’t look away as she sprinkled potting soil in. “We’ll be staying here for the foreseeable future.”

Rhys and Cass spoke at the same time. “What?”

“I have a lot of work to do for the opening,” Nesta said, simply. “Which means I’ll be here all the time, anyway. The master bedroom isn’t open for guests, so we’re going to stay in there. That way, I’ll be close all day if you need me.”

“I won’t-.” Cassian began, but he was soon cut off.

“That’s a good idea,” Rhysand said, voice firm. “Seriously, Cass, you have to rest-.”

“Okay, okay, alright,” Cassian said, hating every second of this.

“Shall I carry you upstairs?” Rhysand asked.

Nesta snorted from where she was on the ladder.

“I’ll go lie on the couch,” Cassian muttered, opening the front door and slumping inside.

It was his worst nightmare: staying still for extended periods of time.

“Get a towel,” Rhys called. “This is going to be gross.”

Nesta was shaking her head. “Please don’t get blood on my brand new furniture.”

Rhys was chuckling as he went inside. “That all depends on how much of a baby he’s about to be.”

It turns out, Cassian was the biggest baby of all.

“That fucking burns, don’t touch me with with it.”

Rhys sighed again. “It’s going to burn, its peroxide. See how this is bubbling? I have to clean it.

“No, I can’t see it,” Cassian bit back. “It’s in my chest and I’m laying on the damn couch.”

Rhysand stopped what he was doing to glare at Cassian. “I’m so fucking close to sedating you, Cass. Be still.”

“I don’t wanna be still.”

“You’re acting like a child,” Rhysand muttered, continuing to clean the wound.

“Does that mean I get a sucker when we’re done?” Cassian asked. Rhysand couldn’t help but laugh. “I’d also accept a glass of whiskey. Which I should’ve had before we started this shit.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’ll be sure to put a nipple on it so you can have your bottle before bed.”

Cassian smirked. “The only nipples I want before bed are-.”

Nesta’s feet could be heard on the porch before she rushed in through the front door, heading for the bathroom, hand clamped over her mouth. The door slammed shut and the sound of violent retching filled the living room.

“And that’s what got you in this situation,” Rhys said, indicating the bathroom. “Don’t move, I need to cover this before you sit up.”

Cassian grumbled and Rhys moved to the door, softly knocking. “You okay, Nes?”

He heard sniffling and she said, “I’m fine. Just need a minute.”

“Want a bottled water?” He asked.

There was a short pause. “Please.”

He passed into the kitchen and returned a second later, water bottle in hand. He jiggled the doorknob, but it was locked. When it opened a few seconds later, Nesta’s hand snuck out, took the bottle from him, then the door was closed, once more.

Rhysand returned to Cassian to cover the newly cleaned wound.

“Is this a daily occurrence?” Rhysand asked, and he knew he was talking about Nesta, not Cassian’s need for whiskey and hatred of peroxide.

“Yeah, changes by the hour,” Cassian said. “She was feeling great at lunch.”

Rhysand hummed before stepping back. “There. Done. Now, I’m coming back tomorrow at this time, and if you’re not relaxing, I’m going to kick your ass. Got it?”

Cassian rolled his eyes but didn’t protest. Nesta opened the bathroom door, then, her eyes red and misty. Rhysand excused himself to the kitchen to wash his hands.

Nesta groaned, sitting on the edge of the couch next to where Cassian was lying. He rubbed her back, gently. “Feel better?”

“No,” she moaned, lying her head on the arm of the couch. “And I don’t think I’ll be eating lasagna for a while.”

Cass sat up. Without his arm in the sling, he definitely felt the pressure in his chest and shoulder, but he could actually do things for himself. He crouched in front of her and took both of her hands in his face. “Can I do anything?”

She shook her head, and her face scrunched up. He could tell she was trying her hardest not to start crying again.

“Why don’t you go lay down for a few minutes, sweetheart?” He asked, brushing her hair behind her ear.

She protested. “I can’t, I have so much to do-.”

“And a thirty minute nap won’t be the make or break on whether or not it all gets done,” Cassian said, wiping away the tear that slipped down her cheek. “You’re just going to burn yourself out and that’s no good for you or the baby.”

She sighed, but nodded. “Just for a little bit.”

He kissed her forehead and stood, helping her to her feet. She headed up the stairs and Cass sat back on the couch.

Rhys came back in the room. “Make sure you wear that sling.”

Cassian chuckled. “No promises, but I’ll try my absolute hardest.”

Rhysand stared at him for a minute before saying, “Liar.”

Then he was gone, after bringing Cassian his promised glass of whiskey.

He debated on hauling himself up the stairs after Nesta, but he figured that would only earn him a scolding, so he remained where he was, sipping on his glass of whiskey.

Two minutes went by before he was about ready to lose his shit.

He begrudgingly put the sling back on and got up, making a lap or two around the house. He needed something to do, anything, or he was going to do something that would get him trouble. Granted everything got him in trouble these days.

His phone began to buzz in his pocket and he pulled it out, seeing a repeating alarm going off.

Take your meds!

It was punctuated by a kiss emoji and Cassian sighed. That woman was too good to him.

He lumbered down to the house, finding Beau snoozing on the couch. “You seem to be enjoying our time off, huh?” He gave the dog a scratch behind the ears and made his way back to the bedroom.

He retrieved the black duffle he’d stashed under the bed and began stuffing clothes and everything else he’d need up at the main house in it. He popped one of the pills in his mouth, chasing it with a swig from the bottled water on the nightstand and tossed the pills into his bag.

He debated on packing some of Nesta’s things, but knew he’d likely grab the wrong things and decided to let her pack on her own.own.

With the bag slung over his shoulder, Cassian, Beau at his side, trailed back up to the main house.

He wanted to do something special for Nesta. She had to be overly stressed, newly pregnant, opening a B&B, her boyfriend getting shot.

With a sigh, he pulled open the back door of the main house and dropped his bag before pulling out his phone and dialing Azriel’s number.

He answered on the first ring. “Hello?”

“Whatcha doing?” Cassian asked.

Azriel huffed a laugh. “Bored?”

“I need to go into town and was hoping you could drive me,” he said. “Or, I could drive myself-“

“Let me finish shoveling this shit and I’ll be there,” Azriel promised. “If you get behind the wheel Nesta would never forgive me.”

Az hung up and Cassian sighed. “Sick of being treated like a misbehaving teenager.”

Thirty minutes later, Azriel’s truck pulled up behind the house. When he came inside, he found Cassian balancing dishes, condiments, silverware, cups and other things from the kitchen cabinets and drawers in a tower. Cassian glanced up. “Thank the Cauldron, lets go.”

He stood and headed for the door. Azriel hesitated. “Shouldn’t you put all that away?”

He glanced back at his creation and waved it off. “Nah, Nesta’s reaction will be funnier.”

Azriel just shook his head. “You knock her up, get shot, and now you want to give the woman a heart attack?”

“She’ll laugh,” Cassian protested, stepping out of the back door. “Eventually.”

Azriel hesitated for another second before following his friend.

They hauled themselves into the truck and pulled out onto the street, toward town.

“Where am I driving you?” Azriel asked, one arm hanging out the window.

“Flower shop,” Cassian said. “Jewelry shop.”

Azriel looked at him with a lifted brow.

“For a necklace or something,” Cassian clarified. “Something to wear to the opening celebration.”

“You sure you’re not making an honest woman out of her?” He asked, keeping an eye on the road.

He’d thought about it, but he knew what her answer would be. He also knew that he didn’t want to ask her just because she was having his baby. He loved her. He wanted to marry her. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, but he wanted to make sure she knew he was asking her for the right reason, not the obvious one.

“Not yet.” He could have left it at that, but he knew Az would have continued to ask questions. “You know I like to do things out of order.”

Azriel chuckled and said, “Well, you’re not wrong.”

“Sex, then first date, then knocked her up….but, marriage? That’s a bit down the road,” Cassian said.

Azriel grinned. “Fair enough.”

He pulled up on the curb in the little downtown strip and Cassian got out, heading straight to the florist shop. He picked out a giant bouquet of yellow roses and a vase that Cassian thought was fancy enough before putting it in the truck, and walking across the street, into the jewelry store.

A little old lady stood behind the counter and smiled brightly as Cassian entered. “Well, hello young man, how can I help you?”

“I’m looking for a necklace,” Cassian said, then added, “A nice one.”

The sweet little old lady chuckled and nodded, slowly walking to the opposite side of the counter she was standing behind. “Well, let’s take a look, then.”

She brought him over to a case that was filled with the most gorgeous necklaces imaginable. There were shining stones of every color glinting in the light, some with long, heavy chains, some that were fitted closer to the neck.

They were beautiful, yes, but they were so...ostentatious. He laughed at himself for even thinking of the word, knowing he’d picked it up from one of the SAT word search books Nesta had left at his cabin. And these necklaces were exactly that. They were too much.

He spied a price tag that had come out from behind the fabric covered stand it hung on and Cassian used another one of Nesta’s SAT words.

That was an egregious number of zeros.

“I think, uh…” Cassian scratched at the back of his neck and sighed. “Look, ma’am-.”

“My name is Miriam,” she said, interrupting him. “None of that, ma’am business. Makes me feel old.”

He chuckled, but smiled, warmly. “Look, Miss Miriam, I’ll be completely honest with you. I’m wanting to get a present for my girlfriend. It’s been a rough couple weeks and I’d like to cheer her up. But I don’t exactly have a lot of money, I’m a ranch hand and I’m technically out of work, thanks to my injury.”

Her kind eyes were worried as she said, “Oh no, what happened?”

He laughed and said, “To my shoulder or why has it been a rough few weeks?”

“Well, both.” Her answer was blunt, but her tone caught Cass off guard.

Her concern seemed genuine, but he chuckled and said, “It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time.” She smiled, warmly.

Cassian sighed. “She’s opening up a bed and breakfast she inherited from her father in a few weeks. If that wasn’t stressful enough, I just got shot by her sister’s psychotic ex at her wedding to my best friend and then we found out she’s pregnant when she passed out while I was in surgery. Now, one of my other best friends has had to quit his job to come be the ranch hand on said B&B, where I work, so yes, technically, she is my boss, to run the ranch in my place. All the while, she’s having the worst morning sickness and we were told she would never conceive, so we’re a little overwhelmed by all of this.”

Miriam blinked, speechless. “Oh, my… That was quite a long story.”

Cassian sucked on his teeth and rocked back on his heels. “Yep.”

Miriam asked, “What’s her name?”

“Nesta.” He even loves the way her name sounded from his own mouth.

She turned and was heading back behind the counter she’d first been behind when he arrived. “And your Nesta, is she more of a sweet, kind spirit or a firey lady in charge?”

He followed, and thought on the question, deciding to answer honestly. “She’s both.”

She lifted a small, locked case onto the glass top. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

She unlocked the box and opened the top.

A simple, elegant strand of pearls sat inside the velvet lining, and a lone pear-shaped diamond hung from the center. It was the single most beautiful piece of jewelry he’d ever seen.

He said, “Miriam, it’s beautiful, but I can’t afford-.”

“You’ll take it, and you won’t pay me a dime. It’s my gift to you, to give to her.”

Cassian forgot how to speak.

He forgot what the English language was.

He was actually in a coma from the gunshot and was having some sort of fever dream.

Those were the only reasons he could think of that a complete stranger would have just said that to him.

“I- Excuse me?”

She gently closed the lid and locked it again, placing the key on top and slid it across to him. “Before you try to tell me no, I need to tell you something.” She pauses and Cassian said nothing, giving her the chance. She smiled softly. “This jewelry store is all that I have left. My husband died just a few years ago. Our friends have all passed and it’s just me now. My husband and I never had the opportunity to have children, so our legacy will not live on. And I have no one to pass the things I love down to.”

Cassian could see her eyes getting misty, but he wouldn’t dare interrupt her.

“This necklace was a gift from Drakon when he returned from the war. I’ve held onto it for years, even as I’ve begun to give things away to strangers and to the missions. But I could never bring myself to sell my necklace. What price could I put on something that meant so much to me? So I want you to take this. Not only as a gift to Nesta, but as a gift to me. Pass this on to your baby, please.”

Cassian cleared his throat as his vision blurred. “I, uh, thank you.” A small laugh bubbled out of his mouth. “Truly. Thank you. I wish there was a word greater than thank you, but that’s all I can think of.”

Miriam laughed, quietly, and reached across the counter to pat his hand. “You’re so very welcome. Now, take that home to your girlfriend and have a damn happy life.”

Cassian grinned as he nodded, slowly. “Yes, ma’am.”

After telling her thank you, once more, and saying goodbye at least a dozen times, Cassian took the necklace back across the street and into the truck, where Azriel was waiting, sipping on lemonade.

He looked over at Cassian and blinked. “Are you crying?”

“No,” Cassian said, although he was pretty sure he was.

“Lair,” Azriel said. “You gonna let me see what you picked.”

Cassian looked down at the box, then unlocked it, and opened it up.

Azriel blinked, eyes going wide in surprise. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah,” Cassian said, slowly.

Azriel opened his mouth, then shut it, then said, again, “Holy shit.”

“She just gave it to me,” Cassian said.

Azriel looked up at him as if he had lost his mind.

“I’m serious,” Cassian said, laughing quietly. “I still can’t believe it. It’s a long story.”

“Well,” Azriel said, starting up the truck. “You’re going to make us all look bad, Rhys and I.”

“That’s the plan,” Cassian grinned, then looked back down at the necklace with a soft smile, reeling in how lucky and blessed he was.

But then he got a text. What the fuck have you done in my kitchen and where the hell are you?

He cleared his throat. “Okay, time to get home, Nesta didn’t think my kitchen installation was funny.”

Azriel started laughing and said, “Oh, no, I’m gonna take the back roads.”

Cassian looked over at his friend. “Uh, no, you’re gonna haul ass home.”

“Uh, no, I’m going to slowly drive you home, then go home to Elain,” Azriel said, grinning uncontrollably.

“I hate you,” Cassian said, quietly.

Azriel shrugged. “I suggested you take it all down before we left.”

“I still think it’s pretty funny,” Cassian said, trying to keep his voice light.

“Apparently you’re the only one,” Azriel said, but he was still grinning.

~~~~~

On my way home. Don’t ruin my masterpiece.

Nesta read the text with a scowl.

A second one came in. I’m with Az. Don’t worry.

It didn’t ease her anxiety. She once again stared at the “masterpiece” he left in the kitchen.

She was in love with an overgrown child.

With no hesitation, she began unstacking her dishes, spices, and other kitchen utensils. She was bumping the silverware drawer closed with a hip when Cassian’s boots began thumping up the front steps. She leaned against the island and waited for him to make his appearance.

When he did, carrying the biggest bouquet of yellow roses she’d ever seen, she melted. “What did you- Where did- Cassian…”

He set the vase on the counter, the heavy thus indicating it was as heavy as it seemed. “I wanted to do something to make you smile.”

And he’d succeeded, the grin on her face bright enough to blind him. Though the smile faltered when she saw the velvety box still in his hand.

“And…” he continued, holding out the box.

Nesta just stared at it. “Cass..”

“Just take it,” he said, eyes bright.

“It’s too much,” she whispered.

Cassian chuckled. “You haven’t even opened it yet.”

She knew his budget, knew what he typically spent on things, and anything that came in a large, beautiful velvet box had to be highly out of his price range.

“Please,” he asked, when she had yet to take it.

Her fingers closed around the box and when she tried to open it, she found that it wouldn’t budge. “This better not be an elaborate plan to make me feel weak so I’ll ask you to do things for me.”

Cassian began to laugh and he took the box from her setting it down on the counter. He wrapped his good arm around her waist and pulled her against him, softly kissing her. “No, but that does sound like something I’d do.”

He pressed another kiss to her forehead and fished a small silver key from his pocket.

Nesta’s eyes widened as she saw that whatever was inside needed to be locked up and she decided then and there that whatever was in the box was extravagantly too much.

He unlocked the box and lifted the lid.

Nesta gasped, her body going still as she eyed the elaborate pearl necklace.

“Cassian,” she breathed, at least she thought she did, if words hadn’t completely escaped her.

“Do you like it?” He asked.

If he wasn’t injured she would slap him. Yes, she loved it, but it was way too much.

Way too much.

“I love it, Cass, but-.”

“No,” he interrupted. “Don’t protest. It’s taken care of. It’s done, and you’re keeping it.”

She opened her mouth to do just that, but he said, “I’ll explain later, I promise. It’s a gift, Nes, for you, for our daughter one day, or for our son to give to his wife. That was the condition given to me, and I intend to uphold it, but that can only happen if you agree to take it.” He kissed her again and breathed, “Please.”

She wasn’t sure if it was the hormones or the beauty of the situation, maybe it was a little bit of both, but she started to sob. Cassian tensed, surely thinking he had done something wrong, but it was quite the opposite. She had fully intended to yell at him for making such a mess in her kitchen, but instead, he had shown up with the most beautiful gift she had ever gotten.

“Thank you,” she managed to get out.

Cassian laughed, breathlessly, as he took Nesta into his arms, his good arm wrapping around her shoulder. “I assume these are happy tears, then? Because if not, I feel like a real jackass.”

She nodded, unable to speak as she cried into his chest.

He tipped her chin up so he could look into her eyes. “I was hoping your nap helped, but now that you’re crying, I’m not so sure.”

She sniffled, taking a second to compose herself. “No, it helped. I needed it. I’m just… overwhelmed. Cass, this is amazing. I love you so much.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

She looked up into his eyes, completely amazed by the complex man before her. She would never understand him, the same man that built a tower out of utensils in her kitchen while also being the same man that brought her flowers and the most beautiful necklace she had ever seen.

He was incredible.

Indescribable.

All consuming.

And she was so madly, completely in love with him.

Cassian Nazari.

Her child’s father.

Her one true love.

She prayed, hoped, begged that there would never be a day of her life that went by that didn’t have him in it.

#sharacollab #theranchnessian #fanfic #au

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interstellarrambles · 4 years

Note

Hi! Love your writing! Would you ever consider doing a Billy Hargrove x plus size reader? Maybe the reader is shy and nerdy so the party are always hanging around her, she's like an cool older sister to them. Billy finds the kids annoying because they're always around the reader when he tries to ask her out. Thanks!

heya love! very sorry I took my time with this but I wanted to make it perfect as a chubby girl myself. I really hope you enjoy it, this is probably the longest piece I've ever written, it's like four in one. solis x

pairing: Billy Hargrove x female plus size!reader

fandom: stranger things

warnings: bullies unsurprisingly, nothing terrible, abusive families, domestic abuse

fourth time lucky. bh.

the three times billy hargrove tried to ask you out, and the one time it actually worked.

hair pushed back, cig hanging gently on his smiling lips and jeans sprayed onto his muscular thighs; Billy Hargrove looked almost delectable as he stood, leaning against your lockers and waiting for you to show up. this had become a regular thing since you'd first started hanging out, and though the other teenagers of Hawkins couldn't work out why Billy would want to hang around for you, he couldn't care less. whenever he needed someone real to comfort him, and show him he was worthy of love and affection, you were there. you made him feel more alive, and that made him breathless ironically whenever he was around you. touch starved was never a word Billy would ever associate with himself until he met you. no matter how many girls had laid their hands on him, he needed none of them as much as he needed your touch.

already this afternoon, Tommy had tried to pull him away, promising him a girl at his party later on, but Billy simply shook his head and remained where he was. you were due a free period right now, and he wanted to skip and go hang out before the end of school when he'd have to pick up Max.

it was through Max and the gang that the two of you had met properly for the first time, and though she'd hated his insistent flirting, she had to admit that she didn't mind hanging out with you more. suddenly less boisterous and cruel, whenever he was around you, Max noticed how Billy would change. he loved how much you cared about the gang, even if he could never work out why you cared so much.

caring and sweet, yet undeniably outspoken and confident: it was something Billy loved about you - you had the capability to show so much love, perhaps because of experiencing a severe lack of it, but on the other hand, you still stood up for yourself and protected the ones you loved fiercely. your years in high school before billy had been ridden with cruel taunts and bullying because of your appearance, hence why you began hanging out with the gang, but since he had joined, people quickly learned not to mention you in the wrong way. whether it was the love he felt for you in his heart that motivated him to dish out bruises and broken bones in your honour, or the way you always patched him up after and kissed his bruised knuckles as a thank you, he wasn't really sure. in his heart, he knew it was a mixture of both.

Billy had been too caught up in his thoughts to notice you coming around the corner moments before, but when he heard your laughter bouncing through the corridor, he knew it was you. gazing on in adoration, he watched as you walked towards him, your boots hitting the ground quicker when you noticed him waiting. your smiles and soft skin just visible from your clothes made him nervous, and though he wasn't accustomed to the feeling he'd put up with it if you were part of the deal.

"hey princess, been missing you," he smirked, removing his cigarette to talk properly. up close, he made a note that you were wearing one of his old shirts, one he had left at yours one night after a fight with his father. the bitter memory of his injuries was somewhat sweetened by the memory of you kissing his wounds and holding him. he hoped you'd find comfort in him too.

"hey Billy, thanks for waiting," softly smiling back, you pressed your hands against his chest and pushed him back so you could open your locker. as you touched him, gentle but firm, his muscles tensed noticeably and he felt his heart race a little faster.

"so uhh, I had something I wanted to ask you doll," his demeanour quickly became less relaxed, and you felt yourself fill with nerves. a blush spread across your cheeks when he called you that pet name, your imagination getting the better of you. imagining him whispering, groaning that pet name in another predicament completely made your skin feel hot to the touch.

right as you nodded and he went to continue, one of the gang cleared their throats in an effort to get your attention.

you chuckled as you watched his face quickly drop. behind you stood the gang smiling up at Billy, half scared, half amused. the way you'd yelled at him in the past for even laying a finger on them made him too scared to dare do anything, but the threat remained in their minds.

the kids muttered between themselves as you and Billy took a step aside. you tried to keep your head straight as you watched his muscles tense and the st christopher bounce against his chest, but you still felt slightly dizzy. with you stood against the lockers, him mere centimetres away, your mind was racing and you just hoped he couldn't tell.

"princess..." his tone was a mix of warning and pleading, and made your hair stand on edge. Billy knew the kids wanted to come and hang out at your house, since no one else's parents would allow it. but Billy wanted you to himself for once, and when it came to you, whatever Billy wanted, he usually got. perhaps not today though.

shaking his head, Billy knew he'd lost the battle when you smiled and tilted your head at him.

"okay, but they're gonna have to make it up to me at some point," he stated, loud enough for the whole corridor to hear, turning to you with a smile, he whispered, "and so will you doll."

a few weeks later, you found yourself sat on the bleachers in the school gym, watching Billy practice. confident, proud and talented: Billy knew he was good at basketball, better than anyone else on the team, so he enjoyed the moments on the pitch. it was one of those moments where Billy felt good at something; it was something he could be proud of.

lighting up with joy, his face was always a wonder when he noticed you were watching, and it made your stomach fill with butterflies. though you were sure the guys on his team would've said something about you hanging around, you were also sure he'd shut them up. it made you nervous being in a room full of boys that had made your high school experience suck, but the occasional smiles from Billy were worth it.

the mainly quiet gym, hour long practice and shirtless Billy were all more than enough to convince you to attend every practice he had, using the space to revise or study (or spend your time gazing at the boy of your dreams). as well as this, Billy always rushed through showering and getting ready afterwards to take you to a local diner, where the two of you would hang out and waste away the evening with jukebox dancing and milkshakes.

having the privilege to be in the presence of post workout Billy was something you'd never stop being grateful for, because his bad boy act usually dropped during these times. buzzing with energy, he'd grab your hand while he drove down the endless country roads and tell you stories of running away, making a new life. his eyes would electrify, and you'd both lose track of time, playing his music way too loud and dancing badly.

hopefully, today would be no different. you both had a big test the next day and you had revised so much your brain had turned grey and blurry. Billy needed a pick me up too, since his home life had been worsening, so you vowed to make tonight memorable for him. planning ahead, you'd packed a bag with a blanket and some snacks, hoping to find somewhere to stop and have a fire.

as you finished going through your notes one last time, the coach blew the final whistle indicating practice was over. after receiving a wink from Billy and waving back to him gleefully, you began packing away your notebooks and headed for the car park, where you'd wait for him.

by the time Billy joined you, his hair still wet from the showers, you were freezing, your jumper not quite shielding from the bitter mid spring air. immediately, Billy picked up on this and before even greeting you his jacket was wrapped around your frame. it made you nervous sometimes, since his clothes weren't as baggy on you as they would be on other girls, and this threatened to wipe the smile off of your face.

"sorry I took so long doll, Steve was giving me shit," although his face showed obvious distaste for Steve, his eyes still softened at the sight of you in his clothes: "you look gorgeous today y/n, even better with my jacket."

blushing, you hugged him silently, chuckling to yourself when he slipped his hand into his jacket pocket to reach for a his lighter and cigarettes.

"there's no surprise," swinging open the door for you, he simply ignored your remark, so you continued, "what's the plan for today then?"

Billy had also wanted today to be special. he'd thought it over and over in his mind, trying to think of something good enough, a way to ask you out properly that suited you, showed you how much your deserved. he thought he'd come up with a pretty good idea, but it would have to be a surprise for now to make the reveal even more worthwhile.

"well babe, that is a surprise, you'll have to wait and see," he teased, a smirk rolling around his lips, sharing the space with his lit cigarette. hopping into the seat next to you, Billy began driving away from Hawkins high school, his palm resting gently on your thigh. a small affection you had grown to love, the feel of his palm against your skin set your body alight almost and you had to fight the smile threatening your lips.

Billy eventually let you know he needed to pick some things up from his house before you could set off together to do whatever he had planned, claiming he'd left something at home that morning. therefore, when his Camaro rolled up the street to his house, you settled into the seat, not expecting to have to wait long before he'd be back.

with the weight of his denim jacket on your torso, you fiddled with the seams of it, adoring the way it swamped your body even if you knew you probably looked ridiculous. tuning out to the situation, you knew Billy wouldn't invite you in at all, so you busied yourself organising the front seat of his car, something he'd probably kill anyone else for.

living with his father, there were certain things Billy was sensitive to, things he could piece together pretty quickly to decipher the situation. so when he saw the lights of the living room illuminating the house and heard the stern voice of his father hollering through the house, it set his body on full alert. he knew pretty quickly it had something to do with Max, since she had told him not to bother taking her home, saying she didn't want to wait until practice was over.

Billy figured he could buy perhaps another half hour to drive you home and pretend like everything was normal; the outcome would be the same regardless, he'd be blamed and punished for whatever stupid thing his step sister had decided to do.

hands shaking, Billy returned to the car, his lips pressed tightly together as he gripped the steering wheel white knuckled.

realising the tension coursing through his body, you slowly placed your hand in his empty one, holding it on one of your thighs. only moments before he'd been touching your skin with a completkely different emotion racing through his veins. he'd been overtaken by excitement and anticipation, wondering whether he'd finally be able to kiss you tonight and hear you call him yours properly. fear and adrenaline had replaced this now, and anticipation for a completely different evening set his heart beating off time.

his eyes trailed over to you for a second, a silent acknowledgement, a thank you for showing him the love he needed. whether you were good with words or not, it didn't matter since he probably wouldn't hear you over his heart pounding.

keeping him grounded, the warmth of your hands around his and the soft of your thighs held him in place; reminded him there was good in the world.

"I... Billy I wanted to say something, and I don't know if now is the right time," you started, regretting the words as soon as they left your mouth, but not being able to stop once you'd started, " you mean the world to me, and I..."

the words got choked in your throat, and though his eyes remained on the road, you felt the car pull over so he could focus on you. it was so fucking embarrassing to Billy. tonight of all nights, when Billy was planning to ask you to be his girl, his little sister had decided to sneak out instead of riding home, and got caught. his dad was furious and now Billy was livid with Max again. but most of all, he was embarrassed that his home life was so fucked up, he couldn't even take the time outside of school to ask you on a date.

processing the words you were speaking to him wasn't really working in his overactive mind, and you could tell. reaching with your hands, you held his face and as you spoke, he watched your lips shamelessly

"I'm sorry it's like this Billy. I wish I could do something. I just want you to be safe."

Billy didn't have anything in mind to respond to your sympathy with, so he simply leaned into your touch one final time.

"you should get going. I'll pick you up tomorrow morning. my dad..." he trailed off but you understood clearly.

miserably reaching for your bag, you leaned over to him and kissed his cheek before clambering out and making your way up to your house. butterflies still fluttered around your stomach at the small moment of bliss, having him so close yet so far, even if the moment was horrifically tainted.

Billy traces his fingers across the shape your lips has branded into his cheek and smiles softly for a second, forgetting himself in your love.

today, Billy had noticed something different about you. adorned in one of his borrowed band shirts, a confidence seemed to radiate from your skin, and though he didn't know what had provoked it, he was determined to keep it there.

glittering with amusement, your eyes widened as he stole your book from your hands and took the seat next to you. in the cafeteria especially, many wondered why Billy Hargrove, the legend, would sit with someone quite a bit lower down the social ladder. even so, his presence, along with the faint smell of cigarettes and aftershave, followed you in your lunch periods and you were eternally grateful. you loved spending your lunch times listening to him complain about Steve and Tommy, and you loved how he'd listen intently to your ramblings about school, home and whatever work you were doing.

whenever Billy wasn't with you, cutting remarks would haunt you like a second shadow, and though you were big enough to deal with it yourself, it was nice not having to.

as he winked at you and dropped your book back into your lap, your heart swelled a little and you didn't quite notice one of his teammates walking by, so when his voice cut through your moment harshly.

"hey Billy, I didn't realise you were trying on the fat girl? c'mon there's much better-" the boy didn't quite get to finish his sentence before Billy had him against a nearby support, clearly furious.

gripping the lapels of his jacket, Billy practically growled, "I suggest you shut the hell up before I beat your ass," before dropping him, realising the staff members had caught on to his out burst. as well as the rest of the students, whose eyes quickly landed on you, shaking and visibly embarrassed.

pathetically whimpering as he crawled away, the boy avoided your path when he noticed you snatch your bag and make a run for it. breathing hard, Billy quickly grabbed his jacket before chasing after you as you hurried outside, gasping for air. your cheeks felt like they were on fire and you couldn't help but wish it didn't have to be like this.

you cursed his athletic nature when he caught up to you almost immediately, whispering "hey, hey don't cry babe, don't cry about him, he's an asshole," over and over while pulling you into a hug.

until he mentioned it, you didn't notice you were crying, fat tears making his sweater soggy. glittering again, this time your eyes struggled to meet his when he pulled away to speak to you.

"I'm so, I'm sorry you had to do that for me Billy, I," you started in between wiping the tears away on your sleeve. wrapping his jacket around you, he smiled and replied "it's no problem, I just wanna see you smiling girl, that's all. I just lose my temper when they say shit like that because I just..." before he managed to finish his sentence, you took his hand, already half expecting but not quite believing what he was about to say. trembling but warm, strong; his eyes dropped to your hands intertwined and you were somewhat shocked to see a blush forming across his cheeks.

"I wanna look after you forever y/n. hate seeing you upset, you're too important to me," Billy couldn't believe he'd copped out with such a wishy washy answer, but it satisfied you. you knew what he really meant behind his words and you felt the same, which was why you pushed yourself into his arms again and kept your face pushed against his neck for longer than before.

the cold bite of his metal jewellery against your skin mixed with the faint smell of his cologne made you almost light headed, overtaken with love and light swarming your insides, but with his arms around your waist, there was nothing but safety to be felt.

smiling against his skin, you whispered loud enough for only him to hear,

"you're important to me too Billy, always will be."

perhaps a month or so later, Billy stood against his Camaro, a cigarette painting his lips with grey smoke, watching as you ran over to him. smiles exchanged from a distance as usual, he couldn't help but notice yours was bigger than usual and he wondered why.

knuckles clenching when he saw Steve and the children close by, following your heels, he felt worry wash over him and he became gripped by the though that Steve had perhaps made a move. Billy had always gotten the idea that Steve was interested, since you hung out more than average friends due your shared love for the kids. it could've also been a sense of masculinity that Billy had always felt he needed to uphold - Steve had been the king once and what would stop you from seeing that he was better for you than Billy would ever be?

Billy had never had to deal with feelings of insufficiency before, and he wasn't quite sure what to do. washed away as quickly as they had arrived though, he felt himself calm when you came closer and fixed his collar for him. his breath fanning against your neck as you reached to unfurl the collar, his warmth enveloped you and it took everything in you to hold back.

blissed out from just that moment, Billy took a few seconds to realise there was something in your hand before asking, eyeing the kids behind you.

"there's a fair coming nearby!" El butted in, earning a ruffle of her hair from you and a slight smile from Billy - he had to admit she was cute sometimes.

"and obviously, we're going," you proposed, half asking, half demanding.

Steve smirked at the way you placed a hand on Billy's chest, unconcerned at the glare he received from Billy as a result.

"I'm off, come on kids, you can come to mine," Steve announced, giving you a smile that just reeked of 'tell him you pussy'.

a few goodbyes were said and hugs were given, and then you were alone with Billy, Max clambering into the car to give you a minute. perhaps even she could sense what was going to happen.

Billy simply raised an eyebrow having clearly worked out there was something on your mind.

"Billy, I've been wanting to say it for a while and I wasn't really sure how you'd react, but," hot, red and fast, Billy could feel his blood pulsating as the words tumbled from your lips, but he couldn't stop looking at them.

"I wanted to know if you'd go to the fair with me, as more than just friends? I get it if not, but I like you a lot and it's kinda..."

before you could finish your sentence, Billy was asking if he could kiss you, ignoring everyone around you.

soft, warm and comforting, his lips against yours convinced you you had no reason to be nervous. the kiss quickly deepened, your hands laced through his hair and his settled on your waist.

"God I've waited too long for this," he whispered into your neck.

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