#and that was something that bothered me in the beginning bc he'd just let me do stuff for days without checking in how I'm doing?

[annwrites]

i’m fuckin’ begging you

— pairing: billy hargrove x fem!reader

— type: part of a series

— summary: the morning after you & billy have your first intimate moment together, it's like he's reverted back to who he was in hawkins. you go to a drive-in theater that night in tx with him & have a mental breakdown in a restroom over his treatment of you. he then shows you his love in shades of black & blue, & when you go to finally leave for good, he tells you just who it is, exactly, that you belong to.

— tags: billy going back to being a MASSIVE asshole bc he's terrified of commitment & vulnerability. billy gets into his first fist-fight over you. billy staking a claim. ANGST.

— tw: drugs, violence

— word count: 7.4k

— a/n: yeah, he's toxic, but we're all about that on this blog, so.

The smell of salt air wafts into the Camaro's cabin, and the sound of crashing waves and the call of seagulls envelope the two of you. You'd finally made it. Billy was home and you'd stayed with him every mile of the way. You were his. Completely.

He sits in the front seat of his Camaro, you atop him in his lap, legs spread, him buried inside of your warm wetness. He grips your bare hips under your sundress, gently rocking your hips against him.

He reaches up, cupping your cheek, your soft hair tumbling over your slender shoulders as you smile warmly down at him, eyes full of adoration, kindness, care. When had someone last looked at him in such a way? No judgement, no hatred, no harsh words or actions against him.

"Billy." You call softly to him.

He tucks a lock of hair behind your ear. "Say it, baby, please. I need to hear it."

You reach up, resting your left hand atop his shoulder, fingers burying themselves in his hair, a silver ring glinting against the bright California sun high in the sky, a breeze washing over both of you through the open windows.

"Billy," you say again, sweetly.

His other hand that's not cupping your face gently squeezes your hip. "Please, angel, no one has said it to me since my mom left. Please... I feel it, too."

"Billy."

As you continue rocking your hips against his, his brows furrow. Something isn't right. Doesn't feel right.

"Billy."

His eyes slowly open, sunlight streaming in from a window to his right and you're hovering overtop of him, brows furrowed. "Hey, you need to get up. We have to be checked out soon."

He sits up suddenly, pushing you away from him, nearly causing you to fall off of the bed. "Get the fuck off of me," he says, standing.

You roll your eyes. Clearly not a morning person you now knew.

"Good morning to you, too," you say sarcastically.

He turns back to you. "What time is it?"

"Twenty till."

"Why the fuck did you let me sleep so long?"

You withdraw a little at his harsh, aggressive tone. "You were tired and I just wanted to let you rest."

He walks over to his bag.

"Don't worry, I got all our stuff together."

He turns back to you with a sneer. "You went through my shit?"

Your hands begin to shake. Where was the Billy from last night? You were so sure things would be far different today. Going forward in general. Easier, sweeter, kinder.

You stand. "No, I just put your things away. I didn't go through it. I was trying to be nice."

He unzips it, pulling out an outfit, dressing himself, not looking at you. "Get your shit and get down to the car."

You walk over to your bags, shrugging them on. You don't speak to him again as you open the door. Before you can step over the threshold, he calls to you.

You look back to him, hopeful for an apology.

Instead, he says, "Don't ever touch my things again. Got it?"

You nod, then exit the room.

You sit silently in the passenger seat as Billy crosses the Texas border—his tire had been ready to go before the two of you even pulled up to the auto shop. And once the car was ready, he'd immediately hit the road, not even bothering to stop somewhere for breakfast.

You glance to him out of the corner of your eye and wonder if maybe his attitude was from a hangover instead. He hadn't seemed drunk. And while you had a slight headache, you felt fine yourself. If you weren't hungover, then surely he wouldn't be either. Would he?

"Are you okay?" You ask quietly.

He glances to you, then looks back to the road. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You're...you seem upset."

He rolls his eyes. "Just tired of being stuck in this fuckin' car all the time and having to do all the driving and every ounce of the work around here."

You wince. "I would if I knew how..." You say softly.

"Yeah, well, you don't. And I'm not about to start teaching you so you can burn up the fucking clutch, causing just one more problem to be added onto my plate."

You look out the windshield, tears burning your eyes. "Do...do you regret last night?"

He grows quiet for a moment, jaw flexing. Hard. Then, "Like I told you before, shit like that doesn't mean anything to me. We both got off. Doesn't need to be more than that."

Your lip quivers and you look out the passenger side window at the other passing cars, your stomach tying itself in knots now. How could you have ever trusted him in allowing him to touch you like that? He'd told you what sex—any kind—meant to him. He was consistent in that at least .

He then reaches over, retrieving a cassette from the glovebox and pops it in the radio, Metallica's For Whom the Bell Tolls blaring through the speakers.

When Billy stops to get gas, you watch from the rearview mirror as he eyes up other girls walking around in Daisy Dukes, mini skirts, and the like. Even whistling his approval at a couple. A tear slips down your cheek and you wipe it away.

Once the car has finished filling, he goes inside and you hang your head, crying softly for just a moment. How could you have ever done that? He'd told you his intentions in getting you drunk—he'd done it to take advantage and he had.

You hadn't felt that way while it was happening, though.

What you had felt had been…something more. You couldn’t acknowledge what. Not now. Not ever.

You’d finally given him exactly what he’d wanted since day one—another notch in his belt, just for you. Well, perhaps not exactly, but something. You felt dirty.

Used.

Cheap. 

Pathetic.

Had the things he’d told you while drinking even been true? About his mom? About how he felt about you? You begin to doubt every single thing he’s said and done since you first met. Or, at the very least, since you got into his car that night.

When you glance in the side mirror, you see him heading back and you quickly gather yourself as best you can manage, not looking his way as he enters the car.

He tosses a plastic bag full of junk food between the two of you, but you somehow know you’re not to touch it. 

“I’m hungry, too,” you say softly.

He takes a bite of a Snickers, then glances up to you. “Your legs aren’t broken and you have cash. Go get somethin’.”

You exit the car then, carefully closing the door behind you.

“Hey!”

You turn back to him, leaning down to the window. 

He leans across the way toward you. “From now on, you start paying for all your own shit. I’m done being your meal ticket. Got it?”

You nod, staying silent. You stand, turning away, then hear him yell “hurry up” as you head inside.

Feeling…not like yourself, you stare blankly at the selection of chips in front of you. Your stomach growls, but you feel like whatever you eat will just come right back up. 

You then walk up front to the attendant behind the counter. “Excuse me?”

The older man turns to you, pausing from putting away cigarette cartons. 

“Do you have a public restroom I could use?” 

He nods toward the back left. 

“Thank you,” you say, walking away.

Once inside, you lock the door behind you, pressing your forehead to it, your sweaty palm slipping off of the metal handle as you begin to cry. Hard.

Your head spins with so many thoughts you’re unable to grab a single one to focus on before the next one hits you. 

You wonder if, perhaps, you should’ve stayed in Hawkins—who cared what happened to you in the long run, anyway? You think of your mother, wondering if she ever cared for you, if she ever thinks of you as often as you do her. You think of Steve and how, while he’d only seen you as a friend and you felt the same toward him, it was someone like him that you needed—someone kind and considerate and non-violent.

You think of Billy and how you had been right to see him as a monster. Had been right to stay away from him in the first place. 

God, what had you done to yourself agreeing to get in his car that night? How much better off would you be right now if you’d kept walking instead? You’d had another opportunity on the interstate, but had caved yet again, returning to him. 

You’re not sure you can hold out until California. Parting ways before then…it may be for the best sooner rather than later. For your own safety, if nothing else.

Surviving your father had taken everything in you. But now you had nothing—truly. A few hundred waning dollars, a watch to pawn, and some clothes. That was it.

You suddenly feel terrified for your future. 

You take a moment to gather yourself, realizing you’re now hyper-ventilating and you turn the sink on and splash handful after handful of cold water onto your flushed face, washing the tears away.

When you return to the car, Billy immediately makes a snide comment. “Took long enough. I thought you were getting somethin’ to eat?”

You stare out the window at a happy couple across the way, knowing you’ll never have that. You’re too broken for it. 

“They didn’t have anything I wanted.”

“Whatever,” he says, turning the car over. 

As he begins to drive away, you finally tear your eyes away from the man and woman and suddenly realize: there’s not a single person in all the world who loves or cares about you.

You want to throw yourself from the moving car at the thought.

A couple hours later and you’re beginning to feel sick from the heat, but remain quiet. You should’ve at least gotten a bottle of water or two back at the station, but you’d had other things on your mind. 

Billy glances to you, your sullen state, and rolls his eyes. “You’re really starting to harsh my fuckin’ buzz. The hell is the matter with you today? I know it’s not your monthly or I would’ve found out as much last night with my hand between your legs.”

You feel sick at the memory. “I just don’t feel well.”

“Maybe it’s because you didn’t bother to grab anything while I waited for your ass back at the Exxon.”

You stay quiet, tears burning your eyes. 

He tosses a bag of Doritos at you. “Here, eat those. Even if they are fuckin’ mine.”

He only notices how badly your hands are shaking when you try opening the bag. 

He frowns, turning back to the road as you begin to eat one.

"Thanks," you say softly.

An hour later, Billy finally stops and you’re now seated so far away from him, you’re damn-near climbing out the window. 

He slams his door behind him, leaving you sitting there as he walks up to a taco stand, ordering lunch for himself.

You nearly stumble out of the car, dizzy from your low blood-sugar, but trail along behind him and then order a couple tacos for yourself. 

You go to follow him to a table, until he walks over to a blonde girl who’s wearing a pair of colorful shorts and a tye-dye t-shirt, asking if the seat across from her is free.

You sit some ways away, taking occasional bites of your food, sipping at your water, trying to keep everything down. You grip the edge of the table, taking deep breaths.

You’re fine. You’ll be fine.

You have no other choice now but to be. 

Unless…what if you bought a bus ticket? If you went back…what would happen to you? Would…would your dad follow through on his threat? 

Tears sting your eyes when you wonder what your gravestone would say. Certainly not ‘beloved daughter’.

You push your food away, lying your head down, fighting against your gag reflex.

Billy sits across the way, flirting with the girl in front of him. 

“So, do you live around here?” She asks, taking a bite of her food. 

“Nah, doll, I’m just passin’ through.”

He glances to you for just a moment and his brows furrow when he sees you hunched over, face buried in your arms, taking shallow breaths.

She turns, following his line-of-sight, then looks back to him. “Are you with her?”

He smirks, looking to Candy—Candace—he forgets what the fuck she’d told him her name was now. “Not like that. I’ll be rid of her ass once we hit California.” 

He ignores his stomach twisting painfully when he says it.

“Oh, wow. Long ways to go, huh?”

He shrugs, leaning in toward her. “No reason we can’t get to know one another now.”

She laughs, shaking her head and standing, tossing her paper plate in the trash. “Sorry, but I’m not like that. Good luck getting to Cali, though!”

He sighs as she walks away, his eyes trained on her back-end, even if it doesn’t serve to stir any excitement within him.

He comes over to you then, seating himself heavily on the other side of the metal picnic table. “What? Are you sick?”

You don’t respond. 

He reaches for your food. “If you’re not eating it, then I am. No point in letting it go to waste.”

Still nothing and he wonders if you’ve fallen asleep, until you finally raise your head and he feels the blood drain from his face at the look of yours—flushed, sweaty, your eyes a bit glassy. 

You stand. “I’m going to sit in the car.” When you go to step away, you sway on your feet and then he curses.

“Sit the fuck down and eat your food. Now. I don’t need you getting sick all over my car. Because if you do, I’m not paying for the fuckin’ detailing.”

You do as he says, sitting, pulling your taco toward you, even if it doesn’t even seem all that appetizing to you. “You could always leave me here,” you state.

There’s no sarcasm in your voice. No playful tone. Nothing. 

He leans back a bit. “Don’t tempt me.”

You raise your bottle to your lips, your hands shaking and some water spills on your shirt. 

His face falls as he watches you struggle. Either you were sick from the heat…or you were back to the way you were the other night: filled with fear…of him.

He looks down to his food, his own appetite suddenly gone. He eats it anyway.

Once the two of you are back on the road—your stomachs full, even if neither of you had had an appetite—he turns his radio back on, but leaves it at a comfortable level.

Meanwhile, you think of the watch you’d taken. If the two of you stopped tonight, once you got yourself a room, you’d go in search of a pawn shop. You’d take whatever they offered you. It wasn’t like you were in a place to barter. You then also consider finding out about bus fare. Perhaps to California. 

It won’t be cheap, but even if it takes every cent, you’ll be better off. 

Billy changes lanes, passing the car beside you, then sighs dramatically. “I told you before what sex—all that shit—means to me: nothing. So, what, you’re going to pout now because I don’t want to settle down after one taste? Like it was something to write home about to begin with?”

You put your hand over your mouth. “I’m going to be sick.”

“Fuck,” he says, quickly merging back over, people laying on their horns as he skids to a stop on the shoulder and you wrench your door open and heave over the side of the car.

He then reaches a new level of guilt he never thought possible. He reaches toward you, hand hovering over your back, and then he rethinks the decision, placing it back on the wheel.

Once you’ve emptied your stomach, you reach into the glovebox and wipe your mouth with a napkin, closing your door and settling back against the seat, your skin now slick with sweat, head pounding, a vile taste in your mouth. 

You then look to him out of the corner of your eye, your body shaking. “I’m sorry,” you say quietly.

“It’s fine,” is all the reply he gives before merging back into traffic.

It’s evening when Billy pulls into a motel, and you exit the vehicle before he’s even shut the engine off, going inside to get yourself a room.

When he follows after you a moment later, he catches the tail-end of your conversation, watching as you go to hand the woman behind the front desk some cash. 

“Alright, so that’s one room with a full-size bed for fifteen.”

He grows angry at the thought of you sleeping away from him, even if he’d told you just a few hours earlier to start paying your own way. Being upset with you for doing as he’d asked... What the fuck was wrong with him?

He steps up beside you, snatching the money out of your hand, stuffing it in your back pocket. 

“I want a queen. One room,” he states, glancing from the woman, then glaring at you.

You shrink away from him, your hopes of getting away from him for just one night now ruined.

Once inside the room, you nearly collapse on top of your bags as you drop them onto the floor. You then wander over to the bathroom and softly shut the door as you sit to relieve yourself. 

You cringe when you look at yourself in the mirror after. Your skin is a pallid shade, stray hair clinging to your face and there are dark circles beneath your bloodshot eyes. But you simply don’t have it in you to care enough to bother fixing yourself up, so you exit the bathroom as-is.

Billy watches as you wander over to one of your bags and reach inside, pulling something out and stuffing it in your pocket. You then go to leave, until he speaks. 

“The fuck are you doing?”

You just shut the door behind you and he curses, throwing his jacket down as he follows you out. “Hey, get the fuck back here!”

You don’t listen.

He then grabs you roughly by the upper arm, squeezing harshly as he pulls you back to him. “I asked you a goddamn question.”

You fight back against the fear which fills you at his presence now. You know how to play this game. You’ve been doing it your whole life. When a man gets angry: be silent, demure. Respond only minimally. Enough to give them what they want. They won’t hurt you then. Probably.

You reach into your right pocket with a shaking hand and extend it toward him, palm open-faced. “I need to pawn this. My money won’t last long between here and California. Or wherever it is that I end up now.”

His grip loosens, taking the watch, looking over what used to be your dad’s Rolex.

He then looks to you and watches with a pained expression as you reach up, gingerly rubbing the portion of your arm that he’d just had squeezed within his grip.

He hands the watch back to you. “Keep it.”

You look up to him. “I can’t. When my money-”

“I paid for the room, didn’t I?”

Your eyes search his for a moment. “I don’t think I want to go to California anymore.”

His stomach drops. “What?”

You look down to the watch glinting against the sun, the silver still polished—looking like new. “I said West. And in another state or two I’ll be there. I think that’s where I get off.”

His heart begins to pound. You want to leave. You want off this emotional fucking rollercoaster he’s subjected you to every goddamn day. Just as soon as you begin to feel comfortable, he gives you another blow to contend with, leaving you on uncertain ground.

He doesn’t react. Doesn’t beg you to stay. He won’t. If you want to leave him too, then so be it. He never needed you in the first place, clearly. 

He ignores the way his heart squeezes painfully at the thought of an empty passenger seat. An empty bed.

It’s just the heat that’s making his eyes sting.

“Good riddance, then.”

Your chin wobbles as you turn around, heading back up to the room, head hanging between your shoulders, your form utterly fucking defeated.

Billy eventually, after showering—while you’d sat on the bed staring at nothing—went down to the lobby to ask about local attractions. He needed to get out of that room. He couldn’t take seeing you like that. Couldn’t bear what he was doing to you. 

But he doesn’t know what else to do. He’s not…sappy and romantic and ‘boyfriend’ material. Whatever it is that you’re after—he ain’t it.

He can’t be.

When he returns, you’re still sitting there, hand holding your hurting stomach.

He places his hands on his hips, already regretting inviting you. “You want to go see a movie? They’re having a showing of The Terminator near here in less than an hour.”

You look up to him with empty eyes. You’ve never looked at him like that before. Haven’t looked like that since the night he found you beaten and bloodied on the side of the road.

Something inside him breaks at the realization.

You shrug.

He opens the door. “C’mon then.”

Once he’s parked—you’d desperately tried to give him money for your ticket, terrified he’d use paying for yours against you at some point, but he’d refused to take the change from you—he leans back against the seat, setting his radio to the correct station.

He rolls his head to the side, looking at you and his heart drops when he sees you turned toward your door, away from him.

He wants to roll it all back—this entire fucking day. How, in less than ten hours, had he managed to do so much destructive damage to not just you, but your relationship as a whole? He’d had an opportunity before him—you—for a better life. A fresh start. Something good, and pure and loving. And he’d not stopped until your heart was crushed to a pulp in his fist.

But the way you’d looked at him last night in bed, the way you’d touched him and kissed him and held him…something had shifted between the two of you. Something big. Something he couldn’t even fathom. He knew what he felt. But what if you didn’t? Or, what if you did, but he turned out just like his dad? He then thinks he’d spent all day doing it—being that—his spitting fucking image. You didn’t need to hit someone to hurt them. To abuse them.

What the fuck did he do?

He glances to the cars around you, then spots a couple up ahead in the back seat of a Barracuda on top of one another.

He smirks. "At least someone's getting laid. Lucky bastard."

You open your door then, nearly falling out of the car. 

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“Restroom,” you reply barely above a whisper, walking away.

Once you’ve shut yourself in a stall, you sit on the toilet lid and lose it. You begin to bawl so hard you can’t breathe. You’ve not cried like this since your mom left you behind. You double over, wrapping your arms around yourself, shaking, tears and snot streaming down your face. You cry so hard you make yourself sick.

You lean over the toilet, vomiting up stomach acid, which only serves to make you cry harder. 

And you make the decision right then and there: once Billy is asleep, you’re leaving for good. He always sleeps through the night. It’ll give you plenty of time to get away. You’re unsure how late bus stations are open, but you’ll do whatever you must to leave him in the past where he belongs. 

When you exit the restroom—the cool night air washing over you, cooling you down—you take a moment to glance up to the wide sky above you, now filled with stars. And you feel so fucking lonely and empty at the sight. A sight which used to comfort you. Now...

You then slowly step over to the concessions. 

“Can I have a small vanilla shake, please?”

Once you’ve paid, you’re handed your drink, but a voice calls out to you before you can walk around some. You refuse to go back to his car until you’ve at least put something back on your stomach.

“You alright? Looks like you’ve been crying.”

You look to your right and see a man, maybe twenty or twenty-one, leaning up against the side of the concession stand. He has a pair of black cargo shorts on, a black t-shirt with a yellow smiley face on the front, and bleach-blond hair. 

Your wrap your clammy hands around the cool cup in your grip. “I’m fine,” you say quietly.

He crooks his head to the side. “You sure? Might not be able to help, but I’m a good listener.”

You shift from one foot to the other, considering, and then decide to come over to him. You want nothing more to do with Billy. He’s shown who he truly is all day long. Had months ago. What was the saying? When someone shows you who they are the first time, believe them. You should’ve taken such advice.

It would’ve saved you a lot of heartache.

You look up at him, leaning your shoulder against the building, taking a sip of your cold drink.

He extends a hand toward you. “Chris.”

You smile slightly, holding your own out. “Y/N.”

He takes your wet hand in his and presses a soft kiss to the top of it. 

You laugh lightly at the unexpected gesture.

“Don’t tell me your asshole boyfriend is responsible for your tears? A girl like you is way too pretty to be crying over some worthless chump.” He folds his arms across his chest.

“No. It’s…it’s complicated.” To you maybe, but clearly not to him.

He leans his head against the building. “It serious?”

You take another drink. “No. We want different things.”

“Like?”

On the one hand, talking to a strange man again is probably a bad idea. On the other, he ogled and spoke to how many girls today? You could do as you pleased. He had no say in your decisions. Not anymore. He never should’ve in the first place.

You shrug. “I just want someone who will be nice to me.”

“What, that’s supposed to be a tall order? Doesn’t seem all that hard to do to me,” he says, running the back of one of his fingers down your arm. 

You step the least bit closer at the tender gesture. It just feels good to be touched. To have someone listen.

He continues. “What’s he want?”

You sip your shake again. “Your guess is as good as mine,” you say quietly. 

He shifts his stance. “Do you want to be with someone like that? A guy who leaves you guessing, crying, all alone? Sounds like a selfish prick to me.”

No, you don’t want that.

You look down. You normally wouldn’t open up like this to a complete stranger, too worried what they might think, but it’s not as if this day can get any worse. “What if I can’t do any better?”

He smirks. “Talking to me, ain’t ya?”

You both laugh at that.

He then glances around. “I don’t normally do this, but I have something that might make you feel better.”

Your brows furrow as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small red candy. He looks at you again. “You ever dropped acid before?”

Your stomach drops. “N-no.”

“You want to?”

You shake your head. “No, thank you.”

He sighs. “C’mon, it’s not that bad. I mean, it’ll make you forget all about what’s-his-face. We could get out of here, have some fun as a bit of payback. What’d’ya say?”

He grabs you by the wrist then.

Billy groans in irritation. You’d been gone nearly twenty-fucking-minutes at this point, already missed the whole beginning of the movie. He glances around, looking for you, but you’re nowhere to be found. He lets you out of his sight for a fucking second and this was what he got for it…

He exits his car, going in search of the restrooms, really ready to give you what-for, even if you missing the movie is his fault. He knew you had just wanted to get away from him. And he can’t exactly get angry at you 'wasting' his money on your ticket, either, since you’d all but begged him to let you pay for yourself. 

And then he spots you, standing near the concessions, some bleach-blond asshole squeezing your face in one hand, the other holding something near your mouth while you shake your head, trying to pull away.

He sees fucking red.

As he nears the two of you, he hears him say, “C’mon, Y/N, we’re just having some fun. So open.”

You drop your milkshake on the ground, vanilla going everywhere and the prick looks at Billy then, eyes widening when he sees the aggressive look which has overtaken his features. 

Billy grabs him by the right arm, pulling him away from you before sucker-punching the side of his face.

He falls to the ground and Billy gets on top of him and just pounds away, landing blow after blow. He eventually hears something break—likely his nose, but he doesn’t stop. “Don’t ever fucking touch her again! You hear me, you fuckin’ piece of shit?” He grips his face then, Billy’s mere inches from it as he screams, “You fucking hear me?!”

His face is so swollen and bloodied, he can barely even make Billy out so as to respond, so he just punches him again. 

You’d stood to the side, horrified, hands covering your mouth as Billy wailed on Chris, beating his face into a bloody pulp, until a crowd began to form. You then rushed forward, grabbing Billy’s arm, his fist still raised in the air. “Billy, stop, you’re going to kill him!”

Then you hear someone yell in the distance, “I’m calling the police!”

You tug harder, forcing him to stand, and then he kicks Chris in the stomach as hard as he can and he doubles over, curling into the fetal position as Billy spits on him. “Fuckin’ loser.” He quickly grabs your hand, leading you back to the car. “C’mon.”

He opens your door, buckling you in, then closes it. 

When you glance up, you see a man getting out of a Plymouth as Billy walks around the front of the Camaro. Billy then points at him. “Get back in your fuckin’ car!”

He gets in the driver’s side and kicks up grass and dirt and rocks as he quickly backs out of the lot, speeding away.

You sit beside him, shaking violently, tears stinging your eyes and you gasp as he nearly hits someone as he swerves into another lane for a moment after taking the on-ramp to get on the interstate. Perhaps five minutes later does he get back off again, now on a lower, more deserted back road.

He flies across the asphalt and your heart pounds as you watch the speedometer climb to over eighty. 

“Billy, slow down. Billy!” 

Ninety. 

“Billy, please, you’re scaring me!”

It’s once he’s hit over one-hundred-and-ten that he stomps on the brakes, your seatbelt nearly choking you as the car lurches forward. Once you’ve slammed back against your seat, you stare at him, eyes wide, tears streaming down your cheeks, chest heaving. 

He’s deathly silent beside you, breathing steadily as he himself stares at the dark road ahead. His eyes are hard, brows furrowed, knuckles bloodied.

You shake your head, unbuckling yourself with trembling hands. “I-I’m done. I can’t do this anymore.”

You open your door, until he reaches across the cabin and slams it back closed again. When you look at him, he grabs your face gently, but firmly, his eyes wild. “You’re fucking mine. You understand me? You’re mine.”

Before you can even reply, he crushes his lips to yours so hard your teeth knock together. He plunges his tongue inside your mouth, his right hand coming to grip the hair at the back of your neck, his other squeezing your hip so hard it hurts.

The only thing you can hear is your heart pounding in your ears and his lips smacking against your own.

He pulls back. “Next time I see another guy touching you, I won’t stop until I have fucking killed him.”

He brings your lips back to his own.

You remained silent on the way back to the motel. Silent tears slipping down your cheeks, afraid of what you’d now gotten yourself into.

You look at him out of the corner of your eye and wonder how he can now seem so calm. He’d nearly beaten a man to death not even half-an-hour ago. Had also acted more possessive toward you than you’d ever seen him before. What was that supposed to mean, anyway—'you’re mine'?

You’re almost too afraid to ask, unsure that you want his definition. 

Once he’s parked, you both exit the car and head inside, and once the door is closed, you slump down into a chair.

He paces back and forth, hands on his hips, glancing up to you every few moments, your head in your hands, elbows atop your knees.

“Are you okay?” He asks gently, now a bit calmer.

You look up to him, your lower lip trembling. You choke out through tears, “No, I’m not okay! None of this is okay! What is wrong with you?”

He stops pacing. “I had to get the fuckin’ creep off of you-”

“So you almost kill him?”

He waves his hand. “He’ll be fine. Who even gives a shit?”

You shake your head in disbelief.

“What the fuck were you doing talking to him, anyway? You told me you were going to take a piss,  not hook up with some random-”

You stand then, temper having finally reached its boiling point. “Are you fucking kidding me? This again? You have treated me like garbage all day long! Looking at and flirting with girls and making me feel so worthless!” You begin to sob. “Do you have any idea the things I’ve been thinking? I…I never should’ve trusted you in the first place! I don’t know what I thought about you. Maybe that you could be different. Or that I could fix you or… God, I’m so fucking stupid. Just like my mother. But y’know what? I get it now. I get why she did it. She had no other choice. So, I might as well follow in her footsteps with that, too.”

You walk over to your bags, pulling your backpack onto your shoulders.

He panics. “W-what’re you doing?”

“I told you I’m done and I meant it. I’m leaving.” You grab your other bag. “I won’t waste years of my life on someone like she did. I have to get out before it’s too late.”

Just as you turn your back to him, taking a step toward the door, he breaks. What the fuck has he done? “Please don’t go. I’m in love with you.”

You halt. 

“Listen, I…I know I fucked up. Today…fuck, baby, I know. I just…last night…”

You slowly turn back to him. You’ve never heard him grasping for words before. Never seen him so unsure of himself. And what he’d just said… Love. 

He sighs, settling his hands back on his hips, looking down at the stained carpet beneath his boots. “I only realized it this morning. How I felt. I mean, I knew I felt it before. But I tried to play it off as anything but that. I didn’t want to acknowledge it—admit it. I mean, fuck, what if you didn’t feel the same? What if I got rejected?” He looks up to you. “I don’t know how to do any of this shit—being with someone, having feelings for them. Loving them, letting them love me. It’s not my style. Or wasn’t. Fuck, I don’t know. But I just…started seeing you differently the more we spent time together.

“And I guess I thought today…if I pushed you away, then the feelings might dissipate? I mean, look what happened the last time I loved—trusted—someone. She left.”

Your brow twitches. “And I don’t know that feeling?” You ask in anger.

He takes a step closer to you. “I know you do. I just-”

You cut him off. “Just stop, Billy.”

He shuts his mouth. 

You drop your bags, sitting back down again and thinking. You want to be understanding. But he's making showing kindness toward him incredibly difficult to do.

Finally, after a very long stretch of silence—him beginning to sweat, thinking you’re about to leave again—you speak. 

“I get pushing me away,” you say softly. “You said it before—that I had no friends back in Hawkins. And fear of abandonment was why. If I didn’t let anyone in, then they couldn’t walk away. But I’ve tried with you. Over and over again. And every time, you swung from one extreme to the other.”

You look at him. “You’ve given me whiplash you’ve done it so much. And today…” You trail off, a lump forming in your throat. “Do you have any idea what you put me through?” You ask in a whisper.

He pulls over a chair, sitting in front of you, taking your hands in his. “I put you through hell, I know.”

You shake your head, looking away from him. “You made me feel so…” Your chin wobbles. “I felt so alone. And for the first time I realized not a single person in the world wants or cares about me.” 

A tear slips down your cheek and then another one.

And he nearly does the same at him making you think that for even a second. He’d broken your heart.

You continue. “I thought a lot of horrible things today. Thought about throwing myself out of your car.”

His throat bobs.

“About going back home, not caring what happened to me—if he followed through on his promise. I decided at the movie that I was going to leave while you were asleep tonight, too afraid to do it while you were awake.” You look at him. “That’s what you’ve made me feel toward you: afraid.”

You look down to his bruised hand and pull your own away. 

“I don’t know how to trust you anymore. Last night I thought was…” You shake your head. “It doesn’t matter what I thought anymore. You’ll never change. I left Hawkins to get away from another man just like you. I would've been better off had I just done things on my own.”

You know you’re wasting your breath, so you stand again, grabbing your things.

Just as your hand settles over the door knob, he breaks down crying. “Please don’t leave. I’ll do fucking anything. Please, Y/N. I…I can’t lose you, too. Please, God, I’m begging you, stay.”

You go to turn the handle and then he comes over to you, falling on his knees beside you, pressing his face into your stomach, crying harder.

“I love you. Please. I’ll change, I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ll be whoever you need me to be. Just don’t walk out that door, I’m fuckin’ begging you.”

You sniffle, telling yourself over and over again not to cry. That he doesn’t mean it. It’s just another manipulation tactic, but you know this time is anything but. He’d never cry in front of you—anyone—unless the tears and the words leaving his lips were true.

“How can I trust you now?” You ask through gentle sobs.

He presses his cheek against your stomach then, hands gripping your soft hips. “Just let me prove to you that I can be better. The kind of man that’s worthy of you.”

He finally stands, cupping your face in his hands. “Angel, I know I don’t deserve you. Fuck, I probably never will. And I know you deserve a hell of a lot better than me. But you’re all I want. I’ve never wanted anything as badly as I want you. I…I need you. Just, what can I do to fix this?”

You turn your head, looking at the door and his heart begins to break. 

“If you want to leave, I won’t stop you. Just…” He steps away for a moment, reaching into his bag, and he pulls out a wad of cash and doesn’t stop counting until he’s reached a grand. “Take this,” he says, shoving it into your hand.

Your eyes go wide and you look up at him. 

“If you want the gun too-”

You shake your head. “Billy, I-” You sob, covering your mouth with the back of your other hand. You throw the money down on the table. "I don't want your money. I don't want anything from you. Not anymore."

He grabs your face again. "Just...let me ask you one thing. Please."

You blink up at him through teary eyes.

"Do you love me?" He asks, brushing stray tears away with the pads of his thumbs.

Your face crumples. "I wish I knew how to stop."

He lets loose a breath of relief. "Sweetheart, we had one bad day. A really shitty one, I know. But this is what I do when there's a risk of getting close to someone—I rail against it as hard as I can. And it always works—they walk away. Most of the time I'm the one who does. But I couldn't this time. Waiting for the other foot to finally fall, though, I was constantly on the edge of my goddamn seat waiting for it to finally happen.

"I thought... I thought it's what I wanted. I don't. I know that now. I want you. Now. Maybe...maybe forever. I guess we can figure that part out together. If you'll still have me. If you could ever fuckin' forgive me for all the shit I've done—put you through. It's not always going to be perfect. I'm going to piss you off and keep getting on your last nerve for my own amusement. I'll never stop being a pain in your ass. But it's only because I-" He sighs. "Because I love you. So, please, just stay. I think... I think that we belong together. Who the hell else is going to put up with me the way you have? Who else could ever understand the shit I've been through but someone else who's been through it, too?"

You stare up at him, sniffling, tears slipping from your tired eyes, your hands shaking at your sides, body slightly trembling. Every part of you is screaming at you to finally do it: run. Every part except your heart.

You know it might be the biggest mistake you've ever made, but it wouldn't be the first time.

You bury your face in his chest then, fisting the back of his shirt in your hands and you begin to wail, letting it all out. Everything. Your mom abandoning you in the middle of the night, your dad taking every ounce of anger and frustration out on you, your loneliness, your sadness, your hopelessness, your fear, the torment Billy has subjected you to.

You cry and cry until your legs give out, both of you sinking to the floor as he wraps his arms around you, holding you close.

He rests his cheek against the top of your head. "Never again," he promises, gently rocking you.

It takes every ounce of strength you have left to believe him.

[tinartss]

some of tin's fav haikavetham fics (fic rec list!)🍓🍓

hello all i've always wanted to make a fic rec list and i feel like i've collected enough hkvh fics to make one now LOL most definitely i am forgetting to include a lot but here are a few of my faves!

notes:

check tags before reading👍

most if not all are sfw bc that is my vibe

sorted from least recent -> most recent

was gonna add little comments to each but i'm now realizing that would take up a huge amt of space so. just know that all of these changed the trajectory of my life. thank u fic authors for all u do🫶

then who? by heartslogos (T, 27k)

“Let me,” Kaveh would say with his eyes, his head, his hands. Let him what? Let him in, let him speak, let him stay, let him touch and see and listen — All of the above. Has it not always been so, the two of them like this, Kaveh and Al-Haitham? Kaveh: not quite asking, not quite taking. Al-Haitham: not quite answering, not quite offering. - Al-Haitham has been confined to bed-rest for a month. Kaveh assists. Al-Haitham recovers, they both do.

Asked and Answered by heartslogos (T, 55k)

It begins in the House of Daena, or at least, Kaveh thinks that that’s where it should begin. If one were to trace the flow of events backwards, it would lead to this moment. If Kaveh were Al-Haitham, he would insist on going further back. Further. Further. Further. All the way back, to the literal beginning of all of time and creation, possibly. But Kaveh’s brain only has enough room for so many creations at any given moment, and the works of others — while inspiring — historically don’t get students passing grades. Or even grades at all. When thinking about one’s relationship with their soulmate, it seems natural to think to a first meeting. A first introduction. Well. This can be said for any relationship. It all begins with that first brush — a name, given; a silhouette, glanced; a voice, heard.

the truest forms of love by heartslogos (T, 29k)

“Nahida said that the moment you touch the seeds is the moment you must stop speaking,” the Traveler says to him, standing between Al-Haitham and the door of the simple, small hut that is to become his and Kaveh’s for the foreseeable future. “Is there anything else you want to say?” The beak of the swan is foreign, cool and strange. Al-Haitham struggles not to flinch away from it as it slides along the side of his jaw, his cheek — imploring and fretful. One last and ineffective plea. Al-Haitham feels the warm weight of solid muscle around his neck, his shoulders — the fidget of wings, the beat of a heart. Al-Haitham’s fingers sink into soft feathers and the bones and muscles of a bird shift against his hands as he holds Kaveh close. What is there to say? Why bother to say something to someone who cannot say anything back? “Stand aside,” Al-Haitham says, slowly lowering Kaveh to the ground. “The sooner I begin, the sooner it ends.” - A story loosely based on the fairy tale of "The Six Swans".

house of cards by luminvies (T, 21k)

There is a scrap of parchment he'd created and abandoned all the way back when the two had been attending the Akademiya together. Sometime between then and the first month he has to move in with Al-Haitham, the list gets crossed out, scribbled over, crumpled up, carefully unfolded again, and revised. The working title for his tireless troubles: Ten Reasons You Cannot, Under Any Circumstances, Fall In Love With Al-Haitham.

…And how Kaveh falls anyway.

through the grapevine by katarasvevo (G, 3.8k)

Theories are passed around in the form of whispers: Professor Alhaitham probably said something that angered Professor Kaveh. Professor Kaveh, unable to let the insult slide, decided to take revenge by interrupting his precious class time. A prediction goes around that in less than ten seconds, Professor Alhaitham will proceed to offend Professor Kaveh even more with a tactless comment, which will lead to Professor Kaveh and Professor Alhaitham murdering each other. The whole class will walk out today without needing to write the test, having been traumatized by the tragic demise of the two professors. It is not a very pleasant line of thought, but it is sadly the only logical outcome.

In which everyone is convinced Professor Alhaitham and Professor Kaveh are sworn enemies, unaware that their relationship isn’t at all what it seems.

the kübler-ross model on romance by luminvies (T, 10.8k)

Kaveh smiles up at the stranger. "Sorry, he's right! I am taken. By him. But he doesn't know it yet." What. "Wait, what did you mean by that?" Al-Haitham asks faintly. "Oh, that?" Kaveh scoffs. "You're a little dense. Obviously, I meant exactly what I said. I wouldn't want to be kept by anybody but you." "But we are—" Al-Haitham trips over his words, trailing behind Kaveh as he walks purposefully through the city. "We aren't. Together. Neither of us has confirmed anything of the sort." Kaveh gives him a derisory look. "And what, we don't act like it? Some things don't have to be put into words to be understood. Ah, I forgot. Haravatat. You probably wouldn't accept anything else any other way." "It is not logical to make assumptions without empirical evidence." "You scholarly types," Kaveh mutters. "Always so particular."

So. Al-Haitham is in love with Kaveh. This has got to be somebody's fault.

Cue the five stages of grief.

The Fall by heartslogos (M, 131k)

In the third generation of Lord Sangemah Bays when all is but a dream, Lord Kusanali, from their divine seat in the Sanctuary of Surasthana stirs and reaches their hands to the sky. They arrange their fingers to capture a square of sky, humming and singing to themselves as they put the patch of star and moon and cloud through the divine calculus before they translate it into the tongues of men to be made knowable, and perhaps even understandable — and with great fortune, actionable. “Summon the court,” Lord Kusanali says, “The Third Face of God has spoken. Hear the Word through me and make your peace. For the God Kings only ever speak thrice on any given subject.” The court of Sumeru crowds the Sanctuary of Surasthana. “That which waits in the Palace of Alcazarzaray can only be absolved through a union of souls and an exchange of hearts, a lifelong journey that ends only in death.” Lord Kusanali translates. And then, beatific, “What you need is a wedding.”

set alight by celestialfics (T, 2.3k)

Since he was young, Alhaitham has followed a self-imposed, unspoken rule not to touch other people unless strictly necessary. Over the years, there have been two exceptions. One was his grandmother, whose side he would cling to as she read him books on the living room couch. She would pet his hair, and he’d lean into the touch, not unlike a kitten blissfully being groomed by its mother. The other exception was an Akademiya upperclassman named Kaveh.

transparent night by kurigohan_to_kamehameha (G, 9.4k)

“Sir, kindly do not obstruct us,” says the matra sharply. “We are in the midst of carrying out an arrest.” “An arrest?” repeats Kaveh, incredulously. “You’re arresting him? You’re arresting him? Why, what in Teyvat has he done?” The Archon Rescue Operation is going as smoothly as it possibly can — that is, until Kaveh returns prematurely from his desert trip, and runs into Alhaitham at the absolute worst possible moment. Of course he would.

this is what happens in the absence of small-talk by pencanze (T, 17k)

Haitham and Kaveh, whose travels are leading them in opposite directions, meet as strangers in a caravanserai—a travelers’ guest house. Because even opposite directions have a point of intersection or overlap, don’t they? Some might even call that point a headfirst collision. And another thing about opposite directions: they still run in parallel, even long after they’ve crossed.

trishna by kurigohan_to_kamehameha (T, 8.2k)

Down the seventh-floor passage in Vahumana, past the statue of the sage Zolfikar, and behind the third door from the left; inside a small, abandoned seminar room in the Sumeru Akademiya is a mirror cursed to show the viewer their heart’s deepest desire. Kaveh’s father smiles at him, slowly, so Kaveh can see it happen; the corners of his mouth quirk upwards and his eyes twinkle. He’s moving, alive. Kaveh hasn’t seen his father smile – not the expression itself, preserved in an old Kamera shot he kept in his sketchbook, but the very action of smiling – in almost ten years. An Alhaitham/Kaveh X Mirror of Erised AU

if they ask my gain from this world’s harvest by patchy (T, 16k)

In the silence that follows, Alhaitham seems to interpret the end of the conversation. He takes a step back into his bedroom and starts to shut the door. “I’ll pay you tomorrow,” Kaveh forces out, his voice cracking embarrassingly. The door pauses in its trajectory. Kaveh takes a deep breath. “But this is the last time,” he continues in a lower voice. “I’ll be out of your space by the end of the month.” Alhaitham pushes open the door.

The House, The Home, You and Me by sonotfine (G, 11.9k)

Alhaitham's books-hoarding situation continued to grow out of control. Kaveh magnanimously decided to offer to build a new house for him, with enough space for his ego and the books too. This was fine by Alhaitham. And, of course, he wanted it to be a house for two. -- On moving out of the old, moving on to the new, and moving forward together.

what it means to point true by luminvies (T, 9.8k)

It is biologically impossible for a man to replicate technological functions. As much as Kaveh (and colleagues) like calling Al-Haitham an index of niche and generally insignificant information on legs, he will never quite live up to the title. Here's a novel one: people must have taken to thinking of him as a human compass because they always seem to come to him when they're looking for Kaveh.

is that what I look like? by kurigohan_to_kamehameha (T, 3,8k)

Alhaitham grows a beard. Why? Who knows.

Three or Four (Or Possibly Five) Easy Steps to Living Harmoniously With Your Roommate by Bgtea (T, 28.7k)

The truth of the matter is, Kaveh has no idea how to read Alhaitham. He prides himself on being an expert at understanding people, his empathetic heart lending him the capacity to relate deeply with those around him (oftentimes to his detriment). But with Alhaitham, there is nothing for him to read; no clues from his cool expression for him to grasp. The man appears stoic all the time even during their petty bickering. Honestly, when was the last time Kaveh has seen the man do anything except smirk or frown? Does Alhaitham feel happiness? Has he ever seen the man laugh? Kaveh's mind is drawing a blank on the latter and it...bothers him deeply. -- Kaveh devises a plan to get Alhaitham to smile by being aggressively nice to the man (and also maybe if he makes Alhaitham happy, he can score a discount on his rent or something). Alhaitham thinks Kaveh ate some mind-altering mushrooms and is, understandably, confused and mildly afraid.

in weal and in woe by kurigohan_to_kamehameha (G, 26.7k)

“Oh, right – Alhaitham.” Kaveh claps a hand to his forehead. “Cyno, if you see him at the Akademiya tomorrow, don’t mention this to him, would you? I haven’t told him yet.”

“Told him?” Cyno asks slowly, a wary glint in his eye. “What exactly haven’t you told him?” “That I’m getting married,” Kaveh grimaces. “I wanted to tell him myself – I suppose I do want him at the wedding after all, you know – but I didn’t get a chance yet. You know what it’s like, trying to have a conversation with him.” It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife. Kaveh is a single man. That's about it, really. or: the one in which Kaveh gets married, but not to whom you think.

the hypothetical shore by heartslogos (T, 10k)

When Al-Haitham was still a student in the Akademiya he wore his hair long. As long as Kaveh’s is now, perhaps a little longer than that, even. But unlike Kaveh's, Al-Haitham’s hair was just as quiet as he was, just as cool — like a stream of silver water, fresh from the mountain pass. To this day Kaveh remembers the exact moment he thought he might be falling in love with Al-Haitham and that, perhaps, it might not be such a terrible thing.

de insomniis by liyuen (M, 32k)

Kaveh and Alhaitham live together. Nothing ever happens. Nothing ever hurts. But sometimes, when Kaveh watches Nahida idly finish her homework, he gets the feeling that he’s forgetting something important.

Kaveh must have fallen asleep at his desk again, the morning light hitting his eyes like a slap. He blinked at the soft green blanket over his shoulders. When he stumbled into the hall, Alhaitham was sitting in the living quarters with his back to him, soundproof earpieces alit. He had a stupid moment where he wanted to call out to Alhaitham. What would he even say? ‘I’m having some trouble.’ ‘Is the blanket yours?’ ‘You were right, I’m in over my head.’ ‘Can you hear me out?’ ‘Help me. Please, help me.’ Stupid. He yawned and went to stumble his way to the kitchen. From his periphery, he thought he saw Alhaitham turn towards him with a look like he wanted to say something. But that, too, surely was just a very nice dream.

The Importance of Interruption by theSealby (T, 8.6k)

Years. It has been years, yet it could’ve been yesterday they were sitting side by side, thigh to thigh, eye to eye, filled with a contentment that their future selves have lost. Maybe it would be enough to have that again. Maybe correctness has no place here—has never been the ultimate goal between them—and Alhaitham finds himself asking a very different question than intended. “How would you like to come home?” ✥ Alhaitham loathes interruptions. (All except one).

To Dream in Shades of Green by Intensely_Reading (T, 55k)

“There are three suitors who you can romance in this game. You must complete all your requirements with one of them." “Who are the three potential suitors?” Kaveh asks warily. “Your three suitors are Tighnari, the blunt Palace Chamberlain; Cyno, the standoffish Captain of the Royal Guard; and Al-Haitham, the acerbic Duke of Vultur Volans.” There's a new invention from the Yae Publishing House that turns a user's dreams into light novel stories. Kaveh has the (un)fortunate pleasure of being one of its first users. Too bad it dumped him in a romance game.

The Theorem of Narrow Interests by lumielle (M, 36k)

Kaveh clicks his tongue. “Well, I hope you are also aware that with all these requirements, you don’t get a set (A+B), or even (A+B+C). Yours is a set comprised of the entire Sumerian alphabet!” Kaveh has had enough of Alhaitham always loitering around the house. In an attempt to get Alhaitham to go out more often, he jokingly tells him to start dating someone. Much to Kaveh’s shock, Alhaitham agrees—and promptly assigns him as his personal matchmaker. And even though Alhaitham’s requirements for his ideal partner are annoyingly specific, Kaveh refuses to back down from a good challenge. He’s confident in his abilities—that is, until his own feelings start getting in the way…

Precipice by viiparyas (M, 37k)

Lately, his heart staggers at a precipice, just one breath from toppling over. Into what, he doesn’t know. After everything, after everything… He can’t help but melt easily into the intimacy between them, whether it’s by his design or not.

Kaveh has won fame and renown through Sumeru, witnessed the dissolution of a corrupt government, traveled from the trenches of homelessness to the pinnacles of a fairytale paradise. And yet something deep between his ribs screams, more, more, more.

or, Kaveh discovering what he truly wants and finally reaching for it. (Spoiler alert: it's Alhaitham)

nazar by pencanze (T, 13k)

It’s like they’re in a globed world of their own, trapped within a glazed bead. Shatterproof, soundproof, impregnable and unbreakable to anyone else—anyone besides themselves. (On superstitions, friendships, and other things that shatter.)

case study of the scribe by Jazer (T, 25.5k)

"The consequences of obtaining knowledge is the overwhelming feeling of loneliness. "

In which Alhaitham realizes that a peaceful existence does not have to mean a lonely one.

People keep coming to Al-Haitham when they want to know where Kaveh is. Al-Haitham would be lying if he said he didn't know why.

silviculture by sunsmasher (T, 13k)

Kaveh’s face is bright, young, flushed, freckled, happy. He’s wearing an Akademiya uniform and is as tall as the last time Alhaitham saw him (fifteen minutes ago) which means he’s an inch or two shorter than the last time Alhaitham saw him, because the uniform boots are heeled. He’s staring at Alhaitham with the aforementioned flush spreading like dye over the silk of his cheeks. “Kaveh,” Alhaitham says. “Don’t freak out. I believe I’ve been displaced in time.”

spitefully yours by luminvies (T, 6k)

Dear Al-Haitham, I propose that we meet this Friday at sundown on the southeast edge of the city bordering Avidya Forest. This is a marital engagement. Please come prepared with your sword at the ready. With spite, Kaveh Al-Haitham sets down the letter, letting out a long sigh. After all, isn’t the answer to dealing with domestic disputes not marriage? Isn’t that entirely contradictory to the issue?

Kaveh sends Al-Haitham martial summons to sort out their issues. Unfortunately, he makes a small error in the letter.

The Art of Misunderstanding by Anonymous (M, 7k)

"Kaveh didn't consider himself to be vain. Yet he was becoming increasingly, upsettingly aware that most associates would disagree. Vanity, by definition, refers to an inflated sense of self-importance and pride in oneself. A vain person may believe themselves to be the best in the room. They may find it absurd that all eyes do not fall on them the instant they make themselves known. A vain person may put themselves on a pedestal, believing themselves objectively skilled in their field. And though Kaveh had trust and confidence in himself as an artist, he was caught entirely off-guard to hear that others thought of him as vain." ------ AKA, Kaveh misunderstands when he overhears an upsetting conversation between old classmates. His assumption is that they are attacking his character and commenting on his personality. In reality, they're talking about his looks. Everyone picks up on it, save for Kaveh himself.

Illness, Drowning, and Other Minor Inconveniences by EulerIHKH (G, 11k)

Faced with a uniquely difficult client, Kaveh is reluctantly forced to look for help in the one architect he considers more capable than himself: his mother. But soon enough, the turmoil of Kaveh's personal life begins to seep into their professional correspondence, forcing him to reevaluate his career, relationships, and identity.

love haitham and kaveh....love these fics....so many talented writers...thank you authors <33 def missing a bunch bc my organization on ao3 is horrendous but i can update this or make another list at some point....also i would highly appreciate any recs tyy🙏

( + bonus not rec but self promo of a hkvh fic i tried my hand at writing last summer but never shared oops. here she is if you're intrigued

a comedy of errors (T, 6.7k) )

[ilycosy]

subby whiny coryo🤭

sub coryo is literally my fav kind ,,, how did u know are u in my walls ??!?!? this is w post!peacekeeper him bc ... i love the buzzcut

also :) hi tbosas fandom !!

you could hear his footsteps before you officially see him, returning back from the districts to you. his footsteps are heavier than last time— and he seems to have bulked up, broad shoulders now more muscular than scrawny like before.

you smooth out your dress before wrapping your arms around his neck, allowing him to take the lead while in public. his buzzed head tickles the side of your neck as he breathes you in, hands finding their way to your soft hips. he hums in contentment.

"c'mon, coryo, we have a party to go to." you mumble against his shoulder, knowing that the last place he wants to be is a party. but it'd help his social status, especially since the plinths are throwing the party.

by the time you both had cleaned up for the party and arrived, many people were downing posca like it was water (which, you could argue that it was to the elites.) so you and coriolanus didn't have to do much socializing, a simple nod and compliment going a long way.

you were engaging in a conversation with a random elite, somebody that neither you nor coriolanus cared for, when you felt a hand sliding from your back to your ass. you didn't bother with looking, already knowing that it was your impatient boyfriend.

coriolanus was an uptight and elitist boy when you met him, just beginning at the academy— he still is, but now you like to think that he's become more of a man than that boy you knew. so eager to prove himself and his power to everyone, including you.

his hand attempted to go up the dress, but you stopped him before he got ahead of himself. "my love," you said with a small laugh, resting your hand on his bicep. "will you please get me something to drink?"

he almost pouted before realizing what you asked of him, you never drank. his small frown turned into a charming smile as he pressed a soft kiss to the inner corner of your mouth, "of course my dear."

which is how you two ended up here, in the bathroom of an extravagant house belonging to a family that honestly shouldn't even like coriolanus. making out like he was about to go back to peacekeeping (which, he'd never do. he missed you too much.) your glossed lips left sticky colorful marks on his pale skin, marking him as yours.

your hand was wrapped around his pretty weeping cock, slowly jerking him off while you kissed him dumb. drinking up the whines that left his mouth while he grinded into your hand, his pent-up self finally being able to be relieved after the time in the districts.

"did ya' miss me?" you asked teasingly, thumbing his tip while he tried to steel himself. his blue eyes welling up with tears as he shys away from your hand, his cock leaking precum all over your manicured hand. "did you coryo?"

he gulped, which would've looked a bit silly if you both weren't so turned on. he nodded, his reddening face blurring together as tears slip. "missed y'so much miss," he slurred, a throaty noise coming out as he hid in your neck. "needed you, s'much."

you giggled and pressed another kiss to his bruised lips, licking them until he opened his mouth— only to pull back and let him pant openly. "well you have me now sweetheart," you assured him, pulling your hand away from him to rest your precum slicked fingers in his open mouth. "what do you think we should do? to make up for lost time.."

[s1mpactafterhours]

ok so i did a variation of this over on the sfw genshin main BUT i also wanted to make a filthy version too bc like my brain's been wandering- but anyway.. hear me out 🗣👏🏻

al-haitham coming home and barging into his housemate's room to tell him something or ask about something (etc etc) and accidentally walking in on kaveh absolutely plowing you, like you're both going at it hard until you suddenly hear the door open. (kaveh had assured you he wasn't supposed to be home until much, much later!) and so you're just desperately trying to cover up or hide or something, anything- but kaveh's noticed the way al-haitham looks at you, even if the man himself has no idea yet, so he just keeps going at it, witness be damned. al-haitham makes some offhand remark about how neither of you have any decency, but if he weren't wearing those damned headphone looking contraptions you'd be able to see just how red his ears were.

this is unfortunately how he begins to come to terms with his attraction to you, and unknowingly begins his learnings of the ways of heartache. kaveh pays this no mind, feeling that he's finally got the upper hand on his smart ass, seemingly unshakeable housemate. he's on a mission to make you scream his name, as many times as possible, as loud as possible. at some point, though neither of you hear it, al-haitham just ends up slamming the door on his way out, leaving to go to the library or literally anywhere else.... but not before guiltily rubbing one out. you two provided the perfect background noises he never knew he needed, but more importantly, it was your moans that were driving him insane. how would you sound screaming out his name all night long instead?

so off he goes to busy himself with work, so much work, so much that he ends up taking on extra work just to distract himself from the honeymoon phase you're both in, and the way kaveh just can't seem to stop showing you off in front of him. he can already tell the latter is doing so on purpose, but he refuses to let the blonde get the better of him. you're aware that something is going on, but attribute it to their weird relationship and how they're just always fighting.. though it has been awfully quiet lately, and you're starting to get suspicious. kaveh is quick to assure you that al-haitham is just very busy with work, and he's even quicker to get handsy with you. cuddles while he works on his projects, hands on across your shoulders or thighs at dinner, all the nights you two fuck your stress out before collapsing together in bed.. you're far too entranced by your seemingly sickly sweet lover to see through the haze, but it's always harder to think straight when you're getting your back blown out (or blowing him out-) ..and so, you don't.

and even as al-haitham has time to get himself back together, he can't help but wonder if maybe things would have turned out differently had he been more aware of his own feelings. if he had asked you out first, would that be how the both of you would be now? or had you always only had eyes for kaveh? the questions that used to keep him up at night become mindless chatter as he tries (and fails) to block you both out on the other side of unfortunately thin walls. but life goes on, and so does your relationship, and before you all know it, you're making plans to move in together, to share your lives together, and suddenly al-haitham finally knows what loneliness feels like.. all alone in a house that used to house shenanigans for three. he's not sure if he'll bother looking for a new roommate now that he's been promoted, but sometimes he can't help but wish he could share the news with you both, and how he misses your antics and smile and.... he belatedly begins to realize he misses kaveh too. in which a new set of questions unlocks thoughts he'd never even considered... had he harbored feelings for you all this time, or was he instead projecting because he was jealous... and falling in love with his own roommate all this time?

[ofallthingsnasty]

If your inbox is open could I please request a yandere sae where he traps his Darling by getting them pregnant and also this is around the time where he kidnaps them and they get Stockholm Syndrome if you're uncomfortable with this feel free to ignore my request

hey hey!! sure it's pretty much always open 🤗 thank you for giving my brain something to chew on - this really tickled me bc he isn't necessarily the first character i think of when i think yandere bllk! a cold one, for sure 🥶

tags: yandere, sae is 20+, emotional abuse, baby trapping (no pronouns used for reader but they can get pregnant), noncon mention, smidge of unreliable narrator word count: 0.6k

Sae is one thing: selfish. He knows you're here against your will and he simply doesn't care. He gets what he wants. You won't ever know why exactly he picked you out of all the possible people to obsess over because he won't ever treat you like one would a spouse. He's blunt, he's brash, he's an asshole - even to you. He doesn't keep you small on purpose, Sae is just like that. Unlike some others, he doesn't criticize you to snuff out your self-esteem, he truly thinks what he says. You'll learn how to play by his rules and admittedly - he is fair, at least as far as he is concerned. Neither cruel nor sadistic, he simply expects you to conform and be perfect for him. Deviate from his vision for you and he'll let you know- but as long as you are good for him you won't hear a single word.

He actually strikes me as one of the few from Blue Lock who would choose to kidnap you - it's easier and keeps you by his side. He's pragmatic like that. And because Sae doesn't need your love - he simply takes what he wants - he doesn't care for all that lovey-dovey shit, either. Watch him simply lock you away even though you have never talked to each other. He's convinced you're perfect for him and that's enough. He really wastes no time. In his opinion, your predicament isn't all too bad, even beneficial. Isn't this what so many people strive for? Marry rich, be pampered for the rest of your days, no more worries, no more hurt? Really, you should be over the moon to be the spouse of a famous soccer player. He'll tell you as much; that you should be grateful for the roof over your head, that you'll never have to work another day in your life because of him, that you'll have everything you'll ever want - and that being kept like this is the trade-off, that he expect payment from time to time. All your fighting, your scratching, your crying - it doesn't matter to him. It's annoying, sure, but it won't stop him at all. (Although even Sae has his limits. If you keep screaming at him how you don't care for the designer clothes, the expensive furniture and his stupid house, he isn't above showing you what you're taking for granted right now. Some nice, quaint nights in the basement with little food and water and no clothes should set your head straight. Not cruel. Just pragmatic.)

And because he takes such good care of you, he deserves something else in return, doesn't he? A baby is perfect. It's easy to realize that dream - he's expecting sex from you regularly, anyway and never really bothers with birth control. In the beginning, he humored you a little by using condoms (to soften the blow, so to speak) but by now he simply doesn't care anymore. The thought of you pregnant with his child excites him more than he'd like to admit. It isn't necessarily about keeping or trapping you - he just wants to start a little family with you. (And maybe, just maybe, he is actually a tiny bit in love with you, not just obsessed.) He won't tell you of his decision, he simply fucks you more often. But you're smart enough to catch on, with time - too bad you don't stand a chance against a pro athlete when he bends you over for the tenth time this week and tracks your periods, waiting for your fertile window. You can only grit your teeth and take it, terrified of the day he actually knocks you up.

And as always, he doesn't get why you're making such a fuss; you only have to be good for him. He'll take care of you and your child, you'll see.

[ploxpoke]

Izana X fem!reader

Tw- Smoking, mentions of violence, bad words (lmao)

Fluff with Izana bc I love him <3

Title: ♥ Out Of My League ♥

Izana was in your grade, and despite the two of you being in vastly differing social circles, Izana was interested in you. He’d been watching you for a while now, but he knew better than to approach you head on. He didn’t know what made you attractive to him but all he wanted was your attention. He wanted to make sure you were safe, comfortable, and protected. 

One day Izana saw you walk up to the roof, presumably to eat lunch. He followed you up and he watched you sit down and begin to eat your lunch and took this as an opportunity to talk to you. He walked towards you, his face fixed into a cold and calculating expression. He looks down at you and asks “Who are you?”

You were shocked by his sudden appearance and felt your heart skip a beat. You turned around slowly and looked at him with wide eyes. Your cheeks were flushed from both embarrassment and surprise and you  hesitated before answering 

“I-I'm Y/n”

 You say quietly, trying not to sound too timid. You  glanced back towards your food before speaking again

“And uh- I came here to eat my lunch today, since it's pretty empty up here and all... “

You pause for a second before you  feel a pang of guilt, you were probably bothering him you told yourself.

 “Do you eat here? Am I in the way?”

 You  asked while looking up at him nervously, wondering if he would react negatively to your presence. “I'm sorry- I can just leave if you'd like.” You quickly stand up, about to leave. You feel a sense of dread and you  hope he's not too mad at you. “I'm sorry-”

 Izana raises an eyebrow at your response, clearly surprised by your reaction to his presence, but he maintains his cold demeanor nonetheless.  He leans against the wall beside you, crossing one leg over the other as he observes you carefully. His eyes narrow slightly, taking note of your nervous behavior and the fact that you seemed to be struggling with whether or not you should stay.

“You’re not in the way,Y/n. You can stay here if you want to, I don’t mind.” He says simply, causing your heart to flutter “So, why do you come up here to eat alone?”

You  felt a surge of relief upon hearing him say that you could stay, but then you noticed how his tone had changed and he asked you why you were alone. You froze for a second, unsure of how to answer him. 

You didn't want to seem rude or disrespectful, but at the same time, you didn't want to give him an honest answer, since the truth was that you were ruthlessly bullied. “Uh... I don't really have many friends, so I thought it would be better to be alone. I like the quiet mostly”  You said quietly, not meeting his gaze and keeping your eyes glued to the ground. You had  tried to keep your answer short and sweet, hoping that he wouldn't pry more into your personal life and prayed he'd leave you alone instead of messing with you.

You felt some guilt for not telling the whole truth but you couldn’t bring yourself to.

Despite saying that, you still  hoped that he wouldn't think you were some kind of loser or something, even if you  were to most people, because you really did  like him and he was quite popular with the girls at school.

Izana listened intently to your response, his expression remaining impassive, but internally, he couldn't help but feel a sense of pity for you. He had always been fascinated by those weaker than him, and now that he had identified you as someone who needed protection, he found himself drawn to you even more.

However, he knew that he couldn't let anyone see this vulnerability, especially not someone like you.

“Fine, I understand, Y/n.”  He said softly, still maintaining his cold exterior but somehow making it sound more gentle at the same time.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, offering you one without actually asking if you wanted one. “Would you mind lighting mine for me?”

You were taken aback by his request, feeling your cheeks turn bright red from both shock and embarrassment. You’d never smoked a cigarette before nor did you plan to, but despite that, you agreed to light his cigarette for him.

“Uhm- sure, I guess I can” 

  You lit his cigarette, your hands shaking slightly as you did so having never used a lighter.

You don't exactly like smoking, but you don't say anything about it. you can smell the smoke and your face scrunches a little from the smell. You  keep your eyes focused on the ground and you try to ignore the fact that you hate the smell of smoke

Izana watched you closely as you lit his cigarette, noticing your discomfort with the scent of the cigarette smoke, but he maintained his cold exterior. He took a deep drag from the cigarette, exhaling slowly, causing the smoke to swirl around him. He then leaned forward slightly, reaching out with his free hand to take yours, pulling you closer to him and placing the cigarette between your lips.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tightly against him while whispering into your ear

“Take a deep breath, Y/n.. Inhale deeply.” He commanded, his voice low and firm, but also strangely gentle at the same time.

Your heart raced as you felt his strong embrace and you took a deep breath, inhaling the cigarette smoke that fills your lungs. You coughed slightly, trying to hide your discomfort and you looked up at him through your lashes, but still not daring to look into his eyes. You quickly look back down, not wanting him to notice you staring at him. 

Your cheeks were flushed and your eyes were wide, but your body relaxed slightly against his as he held you close. The scent of the cigarette filled your nose and made you slightly nauseous, but you didn't complain. You feel a slight burn in the back of your throat and you hate the sensation.

 You coughed a little more and the taste of tobacco and smoke was stuck in your mouth and you hated it but you didn't dare say a word about it. You never wanted this moment to end.

The cigarette smoke mixed with the scent of his cologne and you breathed it in deeply, savoring every moment of being close to him, even though you knew you shouldn't. You tried to focus on everything but the disgusting smell and taste of the cigarette. You can't bring yourself to look at him but you can feel him staring at you.

Izana watched you closely as you took a deep breath, taking note of your discomfort with the cigarette smoke. He saw your hesitation and decided to pull the cigarette away from your lips, putting it out on the roof of the building before he placed it back in his pocket.

  He then wrapped his arms around you even more tightly, pulling you against his chest and resting his chin on top of your head.”You don't like it, do you?” He asked softly, his voice full of concern. 

Despite his dominating nature, he genuinely cared about your comfort and well-being. His arms tightened around you, squeezing you reassuringly as he whispered into your ear. “It's alright if you don't like it.”

He could tell you were worried about something and he murmured to you, his voice honey sweet, “Don't worry, y/n. You're safe here with me.”  His tone was low and soothing, but also possessive, as if he was claiming you as his own.

You nodded against his chest, not looking at him, but feeling his strong arms around you and his warmth. You could feel the heat radiating off of his body and it made you feel safe, despite the fact that he was a stranger to you. 

You  couldn’t bring yourself to care that you didn’t know him that well, you just felt protected. You felt his lips near your ear and you turned your head slightly, wanting to look at him but something in your mind told you you didn’t deserve to so you don't and instead you stare at the ground

“Yeah... I really don't like it.” You whispered back, not meeting his gaze. You felt his chin on your head and smiled slightly. You could tell he was smiling but you still don’t look up at him.

“The taste is gross and the smell makes me want to throw up... reminds me of things I don't want to remember like...-”

You trailed off, not finishing your sentence. You shudder a little and you open your mouth to say something else when you hear people walking up the stairs to the roof. You realize that it's people you usually see Izana with. Other  students say they're all in a gang, and you hold your breath for a second nervously. You know those people, and they're not the nicest. You always tended to believe that at least some of them were in gangs. 

Izana heard the footsteps approaching and immediately recognized the sound of his friends, the members of the Tenjiku gang. He tightened his arms around you slightly, pulling you even closer to him as he glanced over his shoulder towards the source of the noise.He spoke softly into your ear

 “Don't worry, Y/n”.. They won't bother us right now.”

 He said reassuringly, even though he knew that wasn't entirely true. His friends often came to the rooftop to hang out with him, and occasionally they would get rowdy and start fighting or arguing with each other. But for now, he wanted to keep you safe from their prying eyes and judgmental gazes. 

"Well, they won't bother you... maybe each other but I won't let them bother you…”

You listened to his words and felt a sudden surge of relief. You didn't know why, but the thought of his friends seeing you with him, especially since he’d never really spoken to you before made you feel extremely uncomfortable.

You didn't understand why, but your gut told you to be wary of him and you couldn't help but listen to it. As the footsteps grew closer, you  held your breath and felt his arms tighten around you. You knew he was protecting you, but there was something in his demeanor that told you that he wouldn't let anything bad happen to you. 

You hide your face, not wanting anyone to see you at all anymore. You  knew the people weren't going to leave and you knew Izana wouldn't let you leave so you did your best to avoid eye contact and kept your eyes on the ground

The footsteps stopped and you heard voices, and you  recognized two of them as people you’ve seen Izana talking to quite often. you know who they are, Rindou and Ran Haitani . 

The two brothers were calling out for Izana, and when they saw him, they didn't notice you at first. Several other boys joined them before they realized you were even there. Izana kept his grip on you tight and the boys just stared at you for a second, not knowing how to react to your presence.

Rindou and Ran, stopped in front of Izana, their faces filled with surprise as they noticed him holding onto you. Rindou glanced at you briefly before turning back to Izana, his eyebrow raised in question. 

"Izana... Who's this? You've got a grip on her like you don't want her running away. Did she do something?"

Rindou asked curiously, while Ran frowned in confusion, clearly not understanding why Izana had brought someone up here with him.

 "She looks pretty frail, you might break her if you're not careful" Ran jokes

One of the other members of the gang; Kanji, walked over to join them, his eyes narrowed suspiciously as he looked at them. "What's going on here?" He demanded, crossing his arms over his chest as he glared.

 "What'd she do huh? We need to kick her ass or something?" He glanced at you with an unimpressed expression.

 You flinched as the boys started asking questions, and youI felt extremely vulnerable and exposed, but Izana's tight grip around you and his reassuring presence gave you strength.

You  didn't dare speak up, and you didn't move an inch. You felt like a doll in his hands, and you hated it, but you also knew that if you moved or tried to run away, nothing good would come out of it. So, you  remained silent, trying to stay as calm as possible

You gripped part of Izana's coat in reflex when you heard them mention you doing something. You  could feel the fear bubble up from your chest and tears begin to prick the corners of your eyes but you will yourself not to cry in front of them. A small whimper left you as you closed your eyes, trying not to panic. 

You  looked around and you saw a few people who you knew because they had bullied you but, you  weren't worried about that. You were more worried about Ran, Rindou and especially Kanji's words. 

You didn't know what was going to happen, let alone if Izana decided you did do something to deserve being beat up. You tremble slightly and you feel Izana's grip tighten even more

Izana scowled at the implication that anyone might hurt you from Kanji's comment, his grip on you tightening even further as he glared at the member of the gang. Ran and Rindou exchanged confused glances, not understanding why Kanji would immediately decide to choose violence.

"Fuck off, Kanji," Rindou snapped "She hasn't done anything wrong yet you dickhead." Ran nodded in agreement, looking at you with concern yet still had an amused grin on his face

Kanji rolled his eyes at their comments, unimpressed by their defense of you. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall, glaring at all of you. 

"Oh yeah? Then what's she doing clinging onto him like a lost puppy then? Looks like she's scared of something"

Ran scoffed and shot him a dubious glance "She's afraid of you asshat. You're not nice to anyone and you just threatened her..." Ran spoke casually and his words were long and drawn out.

Izana's hand tightened around your waist as he sensed your fear, and he whispered softly into your ear so that only you could hear him, "Don't worry, Y/n. Trust me, they won't hurt you. I won't let them." 

He spoke reassuringly, even though he knew that he couldn't guarantee your safety completely. He hoped that his words would comfort you enough to ease your fears somewhat. The three members of the gang approached you cautiously, sizing you up as they studied your appearance. 

Rindou and Ran exchanged glances, their expressions hardening slightly as they took note of your trembling and the way you clung onto Izana's coat while Kanji just looked angry. The three of them watched you and the way you responded to their stares with interest.

You heard Izana's words and felt a little more confident, but you were still very much scared. You look up at him and see that he said something to the guys, but you didn't quite hear what. You  look back at the guys and you see how they study you. You think they look like they want to hurt you, but Izana's words made you feel safer, so you trusted him. 

You believed him.

You slowly let go of his coat, but you kept your hands on it since it made you feel safer. You heard Rin and Ran talking, and looked at them with wide eyes, they seemed to be having a disagreement. You  couldn't understand what they were saying, but you knew that they were arguing about something related to you. 

You see Kanji glaring at you from the corner of your eye and you feel your panic come back but as your breathing picks up you feel Izana's hand lift your chin up to make you look at him. 

He smirked and leaned closer to you slowly. This got the attention of everyone.

 Ran and Rin stared with grins on their faces, as if they knew what Izana was going to do and Kanji looked even more angry. You open your mouth to say something to Izana only to be shushed by his lips on yours. Your whole body freezes up and Izana smirks into the kiss before pulling away and looking at the members of Tenjiku. He noticed how their expressions changed from anger to curiosity to realization as they watched him kiss you.

He knew that this would catch their attention and distract them momentarily from their plans to intimidate you as well as show why he was so interested in keeping you close. His hand rested on your cheek, caressing it gently with his thumb while his other hand wrapped around your waist, holding you close to him. 

He saw the confusion and surprise on everyone’s faces, including yours, as they realized what had just happened, and he enjoyed every second of it.

Ran and Rindou exchanged amused glances, their earlier argument forgotten as they observed the scene unfold before them. Ran elbowed Rindou and grinned widely at him and Rindou handed him something that looked suspiciously like money.

 Ran snickered softly, "Well fuck, looks like someone's got themselves a girlfriend already"

Rindou just  chuckled, and gave Ran a playful nudge. “Don’t act surprised. You called it.”

You stare up at Izana who just grins down at you and you can't help but to flush from his gaze. You look back down at the ground and you mutter something so quiet that not even Izana could hear.

Izana came closer to you and you  see him still smirking.  He says something to the members of Tenjiku again, this time he was more direct. You heard him say "You better not try to fuck with her, you better not even think about laying a finger on her. She’s mine"

He emphasized the word 'mine' with a slight growl, making it clear he wouldn’t hesitate to protect you from anyone who dared to even consider hurting you. He lowered his hand to the small of your back and he grinned at you sweetly before leaning down and pressing another kiss to your lips.

"Is now a bad time to ask you to be my girl?" He says in a teasing tone before whispering in your ear "I've been waiting for a chance to ask and I doubt there will be a better time than now" He kissed you all over your face.

You just nodded and whispered yes over and over to him until he kissed your lips again and laughed with you. He smiled at you and held you close to him and said with the sweetest smile

"God, you're out of my league"

[leorawright]

I hope your vacation is wonderful and restful to you!!

For requests can you do one for Engie, Demo and Medic where reader usually goes to them for help/tutoring for their bio-chem course classes but since reader's boyfriend is busy/stressed over their merc work and their side experiments, reader goes to the other two for help. Which causes reader's merc to be jealous/ fed up until reader notices it and explain how they didn't want to add to their stress/take up time only for the merc to explain how they enjoyed that time together and that they were looking forward to that time.

(I'm exponentially going insane bc of organic chemistry and the idea of a super smart boyfriend [Demo is smart, hell even drunk he gets his job done and done well and often fandom forgets he's an expert chemist] being patient with me and enjoying the same space while I struggle to understand something thats a cakewalk for them is comforting.)

Once again I hope you have fun and enjoy your vacation to the point that when u return your still relaxed way after!!!

This is gonna be my first time writing Engie since almost the beginning of my blog so tell me if I do a good job😅

Mercs with s/o who worries they're bothering them with tutoring sessions

Engineer

Engie is probably the best at hiding his tiredness from you but it doesn't take long for you to notice how he zones out during tutoring sessions or how he constantly falls asleep at his desk

But when you start finding other people to tutor you, Engie notices pretty quick

He's a little hurt so he sits you down to talk about it

When you explain that you're just worried about him and his amount of work, Engie immediately assures you that he adores helping you and that his exhaustion is never because of you

He starts making sure to spread out his work a little more so when he's tutoring you, he can relish the time you spend together

Demoman

His exhaustion is one of the most obvious, considering he's practically falling asleep when tutoring you

He doesn't really notice that you stop asking for tutoring sessions until a week or two since he's so busy with work

But when he does, he decides to do a little investigating and is a little worried when he learns you've been going to other people

He'd never think you're cheating on him but he's worried that you just didn't like the way he taught

So he asks you about it and you explain, he immediately hugs you with a tear in his eye

He adores how much you care for him but he declares that tutoring you is one of his favorite things and you know he's not lying about it

Medic

He didn't really get exhausted but you noticed that he was late to tutoring sessions or often called away early by work so you decided not to take up much more of his time

Medic immediately noticed but instead of confronting, he just decided to pout and make the occasional snide remark about it

When he notices that one of his comments actually hurts you, he apologizes, and you two take a second to talk about it

He's honestly thankful that you weren't bored or concerned by his rather graphic teaching methods since he thought that was why you stopped letting him tutor you

But once you explain, he starts pushing work aside more often so you know he has nothing he'd rather do than spend time tutoring you

Again, lemme know what you think about engi👍

[ghostlygeto]

pairing: osamu miya x reader

warnings: lowercase intended, just some fluffy shit bc i finally had inspo to write something

wc: 655

"y'know," osamu starts, breaking the silence between you two, "i can't remember the last person i opened up to like this," he spoke honestly, from his heart, "i'm actually not sure if i've ever been so vulnerable like this before. with anyone, not even 'tsumu."

you felt your heart swell with happiness. you two had been together for only a few months, but part of you felt like this would be worth it. like it would last forever. that's all you could hope for, at least. "i'm glad i can be that for you, 'samu."

"would it be too forward of me to tell ya i'm in love with ya?" he looked over at you, trying to gauge your reaction, nervous that it would be bad.

but how could it be? you had been itching to tell him how much you love him. but you knew he was new to relationships, having never had one before. you were his first everything. 

atsumu had mentioned once it's because osamu had always been too focused on everything else. volleyball, studying, graduation, opening up the restaurant. none of it allowed any time for romance, and osamu had seemed completely fine with it. he had accepted that his lifestyle didn't really leave room for a relationship, it'd never be fair to his partner because he could never dedicate enough time to them. it all needed to go into onigiri miya.

until he met you.

osamu was star struck. you had come into onigiri miya with the look on your face everyone else that comes in has, the look of being hungry. he found himself sneaking glances at you the entire time you sat and ate your food. he made sure to be the one to make your food, serve it to you, and check up on you after. his heart was sold on you the moment you told him how much the food felt like home to you. something about it reminded you of your grandfather, and that was so important to you. there was a certain sparkle in your eye that osamu had never seen in anyone else, and that sparkle is what absolutely sold him on you.

you visited the shop so often after that, osamu considered giving you an apron and hiring you. giving him new ideas for foods, sometimes coming right before close so he'd let you experiment with some different combinations. it didn't take a genius to see that osamu had been in love with you since the very beginning, before you had even started dating.

and the same could have been said for you. you had a crush on osamu the moment you saw him through the window of onigiri miya. deciding to come back every day in order to learn more about him. you didn't even live in the area, you had to catch a twenty-minute train ride to get to the shop. but it never seemed to bother you. you didn't mind the fact that you had been using up all your metro points just to visit the little onigiri store. seeing osamu and the smile on his face every time you entered those doors made everything worth it.

when he learned how long of a train ride you took to and from every single day just to come see him, he started walking you back to the station when you'd leave. the store would be fine with a few of his employees taking over for the few minutes he took to walk with you. then he started riding the train with you, then walking you home. eventually he'd meet you at the station each morning and walk you home each night.

all before he had ever confessed his feelings for you.

"no, i don't think it'd be crazy at all, 'samu," you put your hand on his face, looking him in his eyes. "because i'm in love with you, too."

request, reblogs, comments n likes appreciated! <3

[shizuchansmilk]

heyyyyyy i’ve seen your heiwajima parents art, and i really love your designs! <3 i wanted to ask, do you perhaps have any headcanons that you might like to share? o.o the novels BARELY mention them at all :( i’m scraping for content

DO I!? OH HONEY... DO I 💔💔💔

here's a quick doodle of them as well as a thank u for this ask bc uGH i adore them too (they are barely mentioned and basically everything i like about them i came up with in my own silly little head). this is a pretty long post so do continue reading under the cut if you'd like! ^^

gosh idk where to even begin okok. unironically girlboss and malewife. in my mind kichirou is kinda goofy, the more laid-back parent while namiko's the stricter one despite generally being a pretty quiet person in general.

shizuo definitely gets his temper from namiko i think, and while arguments wouldn't at all be frequent it'd basically be up to kichirou or kasuka to calm them both down whenever they happened ToT

i think namiko has an artistic sort of hobby like painting. don't ask me for any reasonings i just feel like she does, and this passtime eventually rubbed off on kasuka a little since i recall he likes painting too? she'd specifically paint landscapes, her favourites being beaches and the sea. because of this though she tends to spend a lot of her free time a little secluded. sometimes, especially as children, she'd let kasuka and shizuo watch her paint and let them try out their own stuff too, but since shizuo's immense strength became apparent he sort of began to feel like he wasn't as welcome as he once was in a studio full of her fragile hard work so he harbours a sort of reluctance doing any of that anymore.

speaking of, namiko would worry about shizuo. a lot. maybe TOO much in fact. she'd frequently scold him for getting into fights and things like that, and because she's his mother i don't imagine he'd really retaliate. he'd be real pissed off and slam his bedroom door (off it's hinges😭) in a huff, sure, but there's no way in HELL he's pulling a stunt like almost throwing an entire fridge at *her*. she'd be the one dragging him to the neighbours houses and making him apologise for kicking the entire bonnet of their car in or meeting with the head of school because shizuo threw a chair into the wall. idk i kinda get the impression that their relationship is a liiittle strained because their personalities kinda clash but they love each other really. whenever something's bothering shizuo i feel like namiko picks up on it pretty quickly and does little things like make him his favourite dinner or grab a cake from the store on her commute to cheer him up.

kichirou on the other hand is big on sports i think, and listen he DEFINITELY taught his boys how to play baseball. only narita can tell me otherwise like until it's outright disproven this'll always be canon to me. i feel like he's the golden retriever to namiko's black cat in the sense he's a lot more outgoing and talkative and relaxed than her, albeit maybe a little more oblivious. i imagine he was really impressed and boastful about how strong, like a real athlete, his eldest was until the property damage and hospital bills were on the rise.

i feel like kichirou would be pretty attentive to kasuka. like oh he's kinda quiet is he making any friends at school? that kind of thing. where namiko stresses over dealing with shizuo i think kichirou would kind of overthink anything going on with kasuka.

despite namiko being the more temperamental of the two i think kichirou still gets really defensive whenever he catches wind of people talking smack about his family. like you can make fun of him all you want but the moment you get a bad word in about his boys or god FORBID his wife i feel like it's on sight. i don't think he'd go as far as getting into a fight about it but the sudden drop in light-hearted attitude to a very cold and dead serious "haha the hell did you just say?" would be enough to shut most people up. perhaps kasuka gets his acting skills from him, as in being able to switch up at the drop of a hat. otherwise i feel like kichirou's really friendly, though again maybe a little oblivious, probably has met shinra's dad before and thought he was a cool guy but maybe just a tad strange (a sizeable understatement).

in essence, think like phil and claire from modern family or mr and mrs fox from fantastic mr fox. that's basically the dynamic of them i have in my head =w= i might have more HCs but this is all that's coming to me rn. again, thanks so much for the ask!!!! ToT💕

[writingsbychlo]

Cassian loves to give foot and shoulder massages, that's enough for me. he's muscular, so he's got steady hands...

okay y'all I want honest feedback bc idk how I feel about my interpretation of cassian in a romantic way and like I don't give anything but my best okay so if it sucks you gotta tell me straight

"Hey, baby." Cassian was leaning on the doorway to your shared bedroom, a smirk on his lips when you glanced up from your book, scowling at him. "How you feelin'?"

"Feeling rough. Like someone threw me down the stairs and I bounced off all 10,000 of them."

He chuckled, his amusement only enhancing your scowl, and he took a few steps into the room, the door to your shared bedroom swinging shut behind him. In one hand he held a tray, laden with stew and breads and a glass of water, and your stomach rumbled at the sight. You reached out, making grabby hands for the food, and he indulged you with a grin, seated on the edge of the bed.

"I don't want to hear any 'I told you so's'." He only shrugged, setting the tray down over your duvet-covered lap, and propping the small legs up underneath it to rest over your legs.

"What 'I told you so's'?" His eyes narrowed a little on you as you tore off a piece of bread, dipping it into the steaming broth before taking a bite. "You mean, the I told you not to go back to training because you weren't ready, or the I told you that you needed more time to heal, or was it the I told you that you weren't ready to leave this room?"

He was masking his tone with humour, but something wounded was seeping through underneath, and your mock-glare softened as you looked at him. His gaze swept down and along your body, as though assessing you for any new injuries since this morning, and you couldn't blame him. With a sigh, you sent a pulse of something down the bond, a mix of regret and affection, an apology woven in. It thrummed back as his eyes came back up to meet yours.

"Cass.."

"I was so worried about you. When it first happened, and you just- please, just give yourself a chance to heal." His throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly, more than just at his words, you knew, felt the sadness and fear leaking into the bond at the state he'd found you in only weeks ago. "I know you're going crazy in here, but I need to know you're safe. If you insist on going back to Valkyrie training, at least wait until I can come with you."

"I'm sorry." Your own throat hurt, food tasting bitter in your mouth as his gaze held yours, beginning to shimmer with a light shine. His hand lifted up, one large palm settling over your cheek, thumb smoothing over your cheekbone, and you tipped your head into his calloused touch.

"I don't want you to be sorry, don't ever be sorry for being so strong. I'm in awe of you, every day, but you make me weak. Just, let me fuss over you, let me make sure you're okay, because I can't go on without you." You nodded, his thumb swiping once more over your cheek, and you turned to press a kiss to his palm before he pulled it away. One more pulse shuddered through your chest; a promise, an I love you, an embrace, before that playful nature was drawing back onto his face. "You goin' to share that, or what?"

"It's my dinner!"

"Uh-huh, and you didn't already have cheese-fries and chocolate cake when you thought I wouldn't know?" One thick brow raised, the edges of his lips twitching into a smirk, and you scoffed at him.

"Az is a fucking snitch."

"He's my brother, and he was feeling guilty for not stopping you in the first place."

"Yeah, well, you can tell Az that snitches get stitches, and I'm going to kick his ass the next time I get him in that ring." Cassian only nodded, shifting across the bed to his own side, fluffing the pillows up and moving the book you'd been reading out of the way. As you held out a gravy-dipped bread roll to him, he lifted up the cover, smirking at the title etched in gold into the worn leather.

"Another Sellyn Drake book from Emerie?" You only nodded, not bothering to look at him, knowing the positively devious look you'd find on his face. "Find any inspiration?"

"Nothing we don't already do." You indulged him in a little teasing of your own, and he paid you back by leaning over, chuckling against your skin as he pressed a kiss to the edge of your mouth. He flipped open the book to the marked page, beginning to read from the top as you ate, until you finished, setting the tray aside. It quickly disappeared with nothing more than a tinkle of china and cutlery clicking together.

You tried to settle back, to get comfortable once again, but comfortable would be a generous word for anything to describe you in the last two weeks. Particularly now that you had tried your hand at sparring again and been so utterly destroyed by it, every muscle in your body was aching, focusing acutely in your shoulders, as of the present. You rubbed at it without thinking, not realising the discomfort you must have been blasting down the bond until the soothing lilt of Cassian's voice as he read passed, and you looked up to find him already glancing at you. "It hurt, baby?"

"A little bit, but what's new?" You sighed, and he chewed on his bottom lip for a second, before dog-earing the page - an act you knew Emerie would ream him for later - and placing it down on the bedside table on his side of the bed. He sat further up on his pillows, spreading his legs wider and patting the spot above the sheets between them.

"Come, sit here. Let me see if I can help."

"You don't have to do that, Cass-"

"Oh, shut up, and just sit here, will you?" Your eyes rolled fondly before you could stop them, and he reached out to flick lightly at the tip of your nose. As you settled in front of him, he leaned forward, warm hands clamping down on your shoulders gently as you moved your hair out of the way. Warm lips pressed a kiss to the back of your neck, drawing a soft sigh from you. "Now, sit back, and let me work my magic. We both know these hands can bring you pleasure in some ways, let's see what other ways we can find."

"You're insufferable."

"And yet, you still love me. What does that say about you?" He teased, fingers kneading experimentally across your muscles, searching for the spots that made you gasp and twitch, and focusing his attention there.

"It means I'm a fool."

"Well, that's not new information, just look at the mess you've gotten yourself into." If you'd had even an ounce of strength, you'd have turned around to swat him for his comment, but you didn't and so inside you sent the most vulgar feeling you could manage down the bond in. sharp burst, a breathy laugh brushing your skin as it burst from him. "Oh, relax, you may be a fool, but you're my fool, baby."

[realcube]

YOU GOT: SHOTA AIZAWA

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ matchup for @ermbabyel

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ if you would like a matchup, read this!

'I can be hot-headed, but that doesn’t last long and I’ll be back to my normal bubbly self in no time.'

𓆩♡𓆪hmm aizawa is kinda the same

𓆩♡𓆪 and i say kinda because he doesn't go back to his normal 'bubbly' self bc he was never bubbly to begin with haha

𓆩♡𓆪 but yeah he does have moments were he can be very firm and strict

𓆩♡𓆪 but they are usually short-lived and he goes back to his usual demeanour quickly

𓆩♡𓆪 however i do think he'd admire that in you , that you have these moments like he does

𓆩♡𓆪 not only bc it would validate him and the way he acts

𓆩♡𓆪 but also bc i think he'd be fond of a s/o that can stand up for themselves when they need to

𓆩♡𓆪 though he does like to protect you , it does bring him solace knowing that whenever he is away, say on business or whatever

𓆩♡𓆪 that you can stick up for yourself and won't let ppl around you mistreat you

𓆩♡𓆪 also someone seeing you talk back bring him a little bit of joy 🤭 secretly !!

𓆩♡𓆪 outwardly, whenever you start to get mad he is like, 'oh my.. 😦' and tries to calm you down but inwardly he is like 'oh my.. 😏'

𓆩♡𓆪 he finds it cute when you get mad, just a little

𓆩♡𓆪 ESPECIALLY if you were to stand up for him

𓆩♡𓆪 like he is a pro hero so he's used to fending for himself

𓆩♡𓆪 but if you were to fight a battle for him, he'd be so flattered and taken back

𓆩♡𓆪 also he would admire you're sassy side too bc he can be a bit sarcastic/blunt himself

𓆩♡𓆪 so he would (secretly) like it if you could match his energy and dish back some attitude back at him

𓆩♡𓆪 because if you were to always just accept what he is saying , then it would kinda feel rude

𓆩♡𓆪 but the fact you are quick to quip back at him , makes it more playful and fun

𓆩♡𓆪OMG if you were to call him old PFFFT

𓆩♡𓆪 outside he would be livid but inside he is like 😩

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

'My sense of humor is very dry, awkward and a hint of dark, so most of the time I’m just awkwardly laughing at my own jokes.'

𓆩♡𓆪 omgg iirc aizawa doesn't have that much humour of his own

𓆩♡𓆪 but he would be so charmed by yours

𓆩♡𓆪 bc it matches what little humour he does have, and that type of comedy is exactly what he finds funny as well

𓆩♡𓆪so with him it will never be you just laughing at your own jokes

𓆩♡𓆪 he will definitely exhale fondly out of his nose

𓆩♡𓆪 or if you tell one that is a banger, he might even chuckle!!!

𓆩♡𓆪 after a while of being in the relationship, you'll probably have a ton of dry/strange/dark inside jokes of your own

𓆩♡𓆪 and aizawa originally didn't get 'inside jokes' at first

𓆩♡𓆪 but now he does , with you

𓆩♡𓆪 however it probably gets to a point that your shared humour is so fargone from the norm

𓆩♡𓆪 you'll both be out in public or maybe at an event with aizawa's colleuges around and you'll reference the joke

𓆩♡𓆪 and you'll be laughing while aizawa is clearly amused by it

𓆩♡𓆪 meanwhile everyone around y'all is just like 😬 or 😨

𓆩♡𓆪 bc it's probably an inside joke that doesn't make sense to others, or a bit of dark humour that has caused offense

𓆩♡𓆪 OR secret third option, it wasn't that funny but no one has ever seen aizawa so amused by a joke before that it results in shock

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

'I’m usually not a touchy-feely person as being suddenly touched makes my anxiety skyrocket. I can also be quite clingy and possessive at times. But I’m quite cuddly and attached to my partner and my partner only. I live gifting and receiving gifts.'

𓆩♡𓆪 aizawa probably isn't naturally big on physical touch either

𓆩♡𓆪 don't get me wrong, he could definitely adapt and it is something he could learn to enjoy if you ever feel inclined , but if you're opposed to it, that doesn't really bother him

𓆩♡𓆪 being clingy and possessive would faze him at all either

𓆩♡𓆪 in fact he might even be flattered by it a little

𓆩♡𓆪 bc i can't imagine a lot of people in his life-time have enjoyed his presense so much that they would go out of their way to spend more time with him

𓆩♡𓆪 so the fact you do that pleases him

𓆩♡𓆪 plus it's not like he's the type of guy to constantly be out n about , at bars, attending events etc *cough* hawks *cough*

𓆩♡𓆪 he's not a very social creature

𓆩♡𓆪 he is busy though bc he's a pro hero + teacher n all so he might be away a lot

𓆩♡𓆪 but that's really the only thing you need to deal with

𓆩♡𓆪 besides that , he'd mostly be home , hanging out with you

𓆩♡𓆪 or training but that can be done with you anyway

𓆩♡𓆪 and he prefers it that way , spending alone time with you is calming and a nice relaxing way to destress from a long day of pro hero work

𓆩♡𓆪 so he revels in every moment he gets to spend with you

𓆩♡𓆪 as for gifting, he's very observant so i think he'd be a pretty decent gift giver at least

𓆩♡𓆪 plus he has pro-hero money so 🤑

𓆩♡𓆪 he could get some awesome gifts

𓆩♡𓆪 whenever he is away for a prolonged period of time, like on a mission or whatever, he will always get you something and bring it for you when he comes back

𓆩♡𓆪 usually something cute like cat figurine or a novelty plushie since he knows you like those

𓆩♡𓆪 OR if he went somewhere abroad/foreign, he'll get you something else with like, cultural significance

𓆩♡𓆪 like tourist stuff basically

𓆩♡𓆪 maybe a magnet of the city's name or a blanket with the country's flag on it

𓆩♡𓆪 just something to let you know that he was thinking about you while he was away

𓆩♡𓆪 however he will NOT tell you what he got you until he gets back

𓆩♡𓆪 like he'll facetime you every night (if he can) (wouldn't put it past UA tho to send him somewhere with no service like the earth core 😭) (anyway) and if you ever ask him like

𓆩♡𓆪 'so what did you get me? 🥰'

𓆩♡𓆪 he'll be like 'nothing 😐'

𓆩♡𓆪 and insist he didn't get you anything but you KNOW he has bc he gets you something every time but he will STILL be like 'well this time i didn't 🤷‍♂️' and you know he's lying ARGH bc he says that everytime as well!!!

𓆩♡𓆪 so yeah he refuses to tell you bc he likes seeing your surprised face irl

𓆩♡𓆪 but it's still so evil bc he leaves you in suspense every time

𓆩♡𓆪 maybe aizawa is the real villain of bnha 😔

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

for @ermbabyel: hmm i was thinking dabi at first but i think aizawa would vibe with your bubbliness a bit more than dabi!!

[omegapheromone]

Oh my god I forgor to post about it bc I was too focused on getting back home and then cooling off from being outside in the sun but when I went to run errands (and picked up my drinks) but I had such a weird experience. Got hit on by a teenager. I'm assuming they must've been under 18 since they were lounging around on the entrance/doorway steps of a closed business front and in this weather, were they of drinking age, they would've likely been at a park or hanging out at a bar terrace instead. Plus the general demeanor and speech patterns kinda made me assume it too, and just as our lord and savior Gerard Way once said, Teenagers do scare the living shit out of me, actually. And I was very anxious!

Anyway, I was walking past them to the business next door from the closed one- they were chatting about whatever and I paid no attention bc honestly? My attention was 80% in trying not to get sweat in my eyes from my long ass hair, 10% in focusing on doing errand tasks, and the last 10% in actually getting from place to place. Iirc they were saying something and maybe commented on my appearance or something just between themselves, idk and honestly don't care either, I get weird looks enough to not mind people commenting or staring at this point. It was only really when I walked out and past them again after my errands that the one guy in the group (was like 3-4 teens, most of them girls and like one guy?) Kind of leaned forwards a bit and asked "hey what's your snapchat" (in common use here) loudly enough that I registered after like 2 and a half steps past them that he'd actually said it to ME, very obviously, because there was nobody else around and the girls were not sitting anywhere towards my direction. Of course at that point I was already well past them and continuing to walk away since it hit me with a delay but like.

I was REALLY contemplating on whether I should turn around and go, "geez kid, how OLD even are you, I'm pretty sure I'm literally ancient compared to you- what is this, granny-fetish weekly support group? Don't bother your elders like that" Or something once I realized he'd genuinely spoken to me, but at that point one of the girls laughed at him and said something along the lines of "(they) just skipped you like nothing lmfao" (again, honestly, I didn't, at any point, even look directly at them, neither when entering nor leaving the business next door, so I mean, she was right, I suppose?) And I figured to just let them sort their own stuff out, because kids, and also not my problem anyway. I was just running errands and minding my own business to begin with.

It wasn't rude or anything though, like there was no demanding or catcall-ish vibe, he just seemed to sort of? Be hitting on me at random and didn't do it in an uncomfortable or creepy way, I was just mildly taken aback when it happened because like, idk if I should feel honoured or not, that some 16-18y old kid would look at me and think I'm probably about their age, or if I should be worried that this is why I'm not having success in dating people I'm actually interested in, because I'm frequently seen as younger than I am. I suppose it's a compliment of some sort, but I can't help but feel sort of weird and uncomfortable about it. I'd guess that it was probably not a serious attempt at hitting on me, more likely just a dare from one of the girls or something. I'm quite used to that considering that used to be exactly the kind of shit my bullies pulled on me way back in elementary+secondary school, and now I date, according to my friends at least, "way below my own league" (very much in a joking tone, but I figure there's probably some truth in it too). Idk, I'm just rambling because I'm still not sure how to feel. If it WAS genuine, well- why? Was it because I wore short shorts with some frills at the legs? Or maybe just because I have some visible tattoos and piercings and look 'interesting'? Maybe it was the backpack for shopping that made me appear younger? Idk man. I just can't see WHY anyone would bother, I suppose. Especially when I was SUFFERING in the heat outside, I'm pretty sure I had sweat running down my neck and legs, and my hair was dripping with it + I was feeling super weak, like my legs were shaking and I was just Not Feeling Well. I definitely did not look cute, if anything my expression was probably that of someone who wanted to just get the hell back home as soon as possible, which was quite accurate. Idk. I just don't see any reason for why a kid would ask something like that unless it was one of those "hey ask that weird kid out as a joke" type pranks/dares.

[rosenallies]

prompt for when nali wakes up sick for the first time when he’s living with rosie in begin again babies <3 i hope u feel better

writing another year old prompt bc <3 I can and I miss this au<3

----

"Nali?" Rosé whispered, gently shaking the other awake, smiling sympathetically as he blinked up at him, "Baby, do you not feel well? I woke you because it sounded like you were having trouble breathing, it was making me nervous."

Denali, now awake and aware was suddenly faced with the fact that he felt like shit. His chest ached and he was too warm, though a harsh shiver crept up his spine. He thought maybe he was coming down with something a couple days ago, but he ignored it, not wanting to bother Rosé in any way. He had vivid memories of his ex yelling at him when he was sick; the pounding in his head made worse, touching him in ways that were anything but soft and gentle making his already warm skin burn unpleasantly.

"I'm okay," he lied, his voice scratchy and painful sounding.

"No," Rosé shook his head, placing his cool palm against Denali's hot forehead, "you're sick, lovey. You don't need to hide that from me, I'll take care of you."

Even though he'd left his ex months ago, old habits die hard and he still sometimes felt the need to hide from Rosé, to pretend everything was perfect even when it was far from it, just like he had to do with his ex. Tears filled his eyes, unsure whether it was from the memories of his past relationship resurfacing or the way his body and head ached.

"You don't have to," he whimpered, voice breaking like Rosé's heart.

"Baby," he said softly, quiet as to not worsen the pounding in Denali's temples, "I'm gonna take care of you, okay? I'm not him, I'm not going to let you suffer alone. Tell you what, I'm gonna go get you some water and Tylenol. Do you wanna stay in bed or go to the couch?"

"Couch," he replied, wincing in pain.

Rosé frowned. "You poor thing, you sound awful. Let's me carry you to the couch then and I'll bring you your stuff there."

Denali didn’t even have a moment to process what Rosé said before he was lifting him bridal style and carrying him to the living room, the feeling of his bare chest against Denali’s overheated skin felt heavenly. He nearly whimpered when Rosé set him down, kissing his forehead before heading to the bathroom where they kept all the medicine.

He came back a few minutes later with a bottle of Tylenol, a glass of ice water sweating in his hand and a thermometer. Setting the items down, he sat on the coffee table in front of Denali.

“Come here, let me just check your temperature and make sure it’s not too high,” he said, scanning the thing over Denali’s forehead and tutting at the results, “100.1, baby, you’re definitely sick, but it’s not dangerously high.”

He then pressed two pills into Denali’s hand, shaking his head when he reached for the water. “Let me.”

Denali popped the pills into his mouth and let Rosé feed him sips of water, the cool liquid soothing his sore throat.

When he was finished, Rosé set the half drank glass back down on the table and curled up next to Denali, wrapping him in his arms. “I’ll be here until you’re all better and then some, okay, baby? Don’t worry about a thing, just rest up.”

[perexcri]

Leah!!! Oh Lordy idofnwkfjajdjwfjejfjdjc Flirty And Happy/comfy w himself Will fic!! It’s like u can see Exactly inside my brain and know what kind of fic I’m craving. I’m so Very excited to see where you take this bc the first chapter was !!!!!🥰🥰🥰

“Mike’s always been one for boldness, for sculpting light out of darkness and shadows out of glows–obviously he’d like working with charcoals” screams. I Adore that Mike’s gotten into charcoal (also cackled that he was clearly trying to get art class w will poor bb)—it’s a hard medium to work w (I’m Bad at it) but I think ur right, I feel like Mike wouldn’t be bad at it.

“It takes Will a good two seconds to convince himself not to press his lips into Mike’s neck, just to dispel the word friend out of the air. Like, yes, they’re friends, but also…it’d be cool to be friends but also something else, right?

“Yeah,” Will finally says, already being dragged down into a cascading tornado of thoughts that begins with swingsets and ends with What are we, Mike?”

S c r e a m i n g rolling on the floor wiggling like a slug. E s pecially that last line of that bit. I’m going to Eat My Phone.

Earnest flirting Best flirting !!! Will is the most valid and correct person ever actually😌

Love me some Platonic Madwise and u write them so well—despite the fact that the show Hasn’t let them interact much at all— and just diandrkfjw.

Also!!! Willel!!! Siblings!! They’re so !!!

“The Party has its own intergroup dynamics and mini units that like to meet on their own for their own hangout time: the four boys have a weekly D&D session separate from the one they do with the girls; Lucas and Will sometimes meet to go on runs or work out; El and Max are practically inseparable; Lucas, Dustin, and Mike have set up shop in one of the unused utility closets to tinker with old A/V equipment the school had all but abandoned.” I’m literally So feral over this. the Party Being Friends!!!!!!! Kicking my feet rn

Painting for Mike :D !!!! I’m So rieicjshfjw invested in seeing how this is going to turn out !! Ur ability to set up plot that leaves me invested is like So talent and I just!!

ur writing is lovely wonderful and u are v wonderful and I hope you are having a fantastic weekend💕💕

VEEEE!! i'm glad i can provide what you're looking for 😌 i genuinely meant this to be a flirty fic, but i think i like where it ended up going instead better :D as funny as it is to write about these two being losers, it's been nice to write about Will being happy with who he is for once (especially since my other wip is just taking a scalpel to all of Mike's self-esteem issues but we don't have to talk about that right now)

!!! i'm glad i could have an artist agree with me on the charcoals thing!! i haven't used them since the art class i took my junior year of high school, but i remember them being my favorite thing to work with. Mike just seems like the kind of person who'd like black-and-white mediums. but more importantly: he just wanted to spend time with Will 😩

*punches wall* Will is going to be happy, dammit

and i'm glad you like that he's being earnest!! honestly this fic started off with a post i saw around new year's (which i haven't bothered to look for again but i know i reblogged it lol) talking about flirty Will. i tried to approach it like i did with cheer up, baby where i was taking a trope that often gets applied to Mike and was trying to imagine what it would look like if Will did it. in this case, i figured he'd be a lot more earnest with his flirting rather than teasing or brash. he just seems like the kind of person that would look at you with shiny anime eyes and say the most heartfelt thing you've ever heard

AHHHH i'm also so glad you're enjoying all the little group dynamics T_T i love Max/Will/El as a trio even though those three barely interact as a group in the show lol. i'd sell my soul for a whole season of st that's just the three of them hanging out tbh

heheheh yesss a painting for Mike!! i'm gonna make everybody's theory that the painting was gonna be one of them meeting on the swing set a reality even if it kills me. i'm still recovering from the whiplash of watching vol2 and Mike unrolling the canvas - i literally watched it the first time and went "but isn't it supposed to be them on the swings?? did they not get the memo?"

Vee i know i only finished posting aftry like a week ago but i got so used to marathon-posting it and seeing your thoughts on each chapter every day that i've missed see your name pop up in my ask box ajkfsdalkj. so it was lovely to wake up and see a new message from you!! you are lovely to talk with as always, and i am wishing you a wonderful weekend too!! or, i guess it's technically monday, so i am wishing you a lovely week!! :] 💜💜💜

[happy-tori-friends]

How about a protective prompt with Splendont and the twins? Pick whichever quote draws you in the most

when i have to make decisions i crumble under pressure so naturally i grabbed all the dialogue prompts that i think fit, gave 'em a number, and used my good pal dicebot.

...of course then i get conflicted. 'do i really want to do this one?' indecision is a plague and it runs in my family. so to wheel decide i went.

it didn't help.

eventually i decided on... “  look at me. you’re gonna be okay.  ” usually for quote prompts (ironically save for the 1st one i did) the pov character is usually the one saying the thing but i decided to do something different bc i have a lot of dont povs already.

uh. content warning for. violence. yeah. they survived the eggs they should be fine. this got long because favoritism and also ive wanted to write something like this for a while.

It wasn't… good to be out in their part of town late at night. He and Lifty knew this fully well, but sometimes it didn't stop them from doing so. Maybe just a hankering to do something other than stew in the insomnia, or lingering outside after a heist actually went right for once.

Today was the former - Shifty was feeling restless and Lifty had gotten fed up with whatever he had been doing, and so they slipped out of the apartment. A short walk, just to stretch their legs. Avoid alleyways and the like, head to the gas station down the street, maybe snag something there, and then head back. Most of the time, it was really that simple.

This was not most of the time.

“If Splendont found out about us doing this, how much do you think he'd scold us?” Shifty hummed, reaching for his brother's hand so as to not get separated in the darkness.

“Maybe he'd stay over more, or let us stay over more…” Lifty murmured in response, taking the hand. “Probably a pretty stern scolding though, so I'm not sure I want to test the chances, even if I want to spend more-!” Lifty suddenly gasped, grip tightening on his brother's hand.

“What?” Shifty turned to look at him, only to see hands reaching out from around a corner tugging on Lifty's tail. His own lashed, ears perking up as he prepared to grab the younger and pull him away, only for Lifty to let go and be tugged around the corner.

Shifty hissed, running after them, only to have his wrist roughly grabbed. He tried to pull away, but the grip tightened and he was dragged further into the alley alongside, despite his attempts to break free.

…They both knew fully well they were not the worst of the shady people in this part of town. They knew that under the cover of darkness, the far more wicked types would begin to stalk, looking for easy prey. And they knew that they fell into that category for those far stronger, more successful than they were.

“Fuck!” he shouted as they were slammed against the wall, trying to take the split second they were free to grab Lifty and run away. But before he could, their assailant pressed a fut to his abdomen and he wheezed, falling down to his knees.

And despite his fighting against it, his legs and hands were bound, and so were his brother's.

“Let's see if you were smart enough to change that hero's contact name in your phone,” their attacker purred, grabbing Lifty's phone. Shifty took in a sharp breath, because he knew that his name in Lifty's contacts was simply his name.

But…

“Are you stupid or something?” he snarled out despite everything. “You're gonna contact him? For what? Ransom? Don't you know what he could do to you?”

Crimson eyes, not warm like their boyfriend's but cold and calculated, stared at him for a moment. “You're both smart and stupid at the same time. I want that hero to stop bothering me and my associates. You just so happened to pass by and say his name as if you knew him personally, talk like he cared about you personally. And it looks like I inferred correctly!” She twirled a lock of jet black hair around her finger before grinning. “Smile for the camera! And be careful, I turned the flash on.”

Shifty's jaw clenched and he struggled against his bindings. “Bitch! Like hell I'll smile for your fucking picture!”

“Shifty,” Lifty murmured softly, not looking at him, looking at the bindings around his feet. “Don't… don't do that. She'll just…”

The both recoiled as the camera on Lifty's phone shuttered, the flash going off. The woman spent a few more moments typing before she called out. “Two of you! Come out here. Bring the knife. Grab the one with the hat. He has a sharp tongue…”

Footsteps drew near, and Shifty growled as someone kneeled next to him, grabbing his chin and forcing his mouth open. He could hear Lifty visibly gasp and felt him flinch as a second shoved him to the side, reaching into Shifty's mouth and grabbing his tongue. Something cold touched his tongue. Something sharp.

“If you don't keep quiet, or at least don't stop being so crude…” their original assailant hummed, creeping closer to him, holding the stolen phone in front of his face. “Let's say you won't be having that sharp little tongue of yours for much longer.”

If Shifty moved, if he tried to fight, then… His eyes widened and genuine terror crept into his chest. And it was late enough that they'd probably be out here all night, waiting for Splendont to wake up. In such an amount of time, his tongue could get cut off and even worse could be done.

The flash startled him once more and he jerked - not enough to cut it, thank fuck, but enough to raise his heart rate and think about how it could have.

“Now that you know the consequences, I do want to make it clear that just being nice and compliant won't save you,” the woman chuckled, approaching Lifty and wrapping his arms around his neck. His breath hitched, and he saw his brother struggle with the bindings as tears formed in his eyes, and heard him gasp for breath around her hands.

’We're fucked. We're completely and utterly fucked,’ Shifty thought, heart hammering in his chest. They'd gotten cornered before, but never in such a way like this. They'd usually manage to get away somehow, or the curse would kick in. Not this, never this.

The cold metal against his tongue, threatening to chop it off, the sounds of Lifty choking, gasping for breath, and the sensations of the tight bindings… It's enough to make even him tear up. It's all too much, and his heart beating and beating so fast wasn't helping. He wanted this to be over with - if they were going to kill them, get it over with fast. He hated struggling, hated the prolonged pain of a drawn out death, hated the blood and gore that never really fully went away. He didn't want to die, not really, but if it was quick, it'd be better than prolonging it.

…They probably planned to make them suffer, though. If Splendont didn't respond, they'd start cutting off their fingers one by one, remove an eyeball, or other stuff like that.

A shadow began looming above him, but he dared not to look up, dared not to move an inch. Until the knife was tossed away. The hand holding his tongue let go, and they were tossed aside like the lightest thing ever.

Looming above him was Splendont, folding his arms. “I suggest you let go before I toss you aside like your friend over there.”

“...I thought we had a deal, sir? You give us a pretty sum of cash and leave me and my associates alone for good, and your friends will be freed,” Letting go of Lifty's throat, the woman folded her arms, mirroring the hero's. She gave one look to the one still holding Shifty's mouth, and waved him off. He scrambled away as the woman took the lead, and Shifty scooted closer to his wheezing brother, gently touching their shoulders together.

“You think I'd just… bow to your whims like that?” the redhead murmured, eyes narrowing, and there was an intensity in his voice that Shifty had never heard before. Burning red rage hidden behind calmness, he wagered. For him. For Lifty.

The woman hummed. “You focus more on saving people. You wouldn't hurt anyone purposefully, would you? A hero would never do that, especially if all they want is to save people.” A taunt, and she stared at him with a smug look in her eyes. “So, hand it over. Because you're a coward that wouldn't dare hurt anyone unless you had to.”

Instantaneously, Splendont reached and grabbed her by the throat, slamming her against the wall with enough force to hurt but not kill. “You are pretty fucking stupid for assuming that. My brother, maybe, but I'm not above hurting scumbags like you who think they can outsmart me to get their way.” His fingers tightened around her throat. “You're lucky that only one of them actually got physically harmed after being tied up, and it's not the most serious of wounds. Because if you'd done anything more serious, I wouldn't be talking to you right now. Your brains would be splattered in this alleyway, or maybe your body reduced to nothing but ashes.”

The redhead took a deep breath, baring his teeth at her. “I'm not above maiming you or killing you, and honestly, I am considering it anyways. The only reason I haven't yet is because I want you to be alive to go and tell your little crew something. These two are off limits completely, do you understand me? They're under my protection. And if you, or one of your ‘associates’ dares to harm them in any way, shape, or form after this warning I will slaughter you in the most painful way I can think of. Do you understand me?”

Her gasps for breath were similar to Lifty's, and it made him feel… uneasy despite everything. Even if she deserved it, it just made him think of Lifty. His brother sobbed beside him, clearly still shaken up by the experience. Shifty didn't blame him. Even with the sensations of being forced to have his mouth open and tongue held against a knife gone, his heart was still beating so rapidly that he was afraid it'd burst out of his chest. Tears were still flowing from his own eyes, though not in heavy sobs like Lifty, who was still gasping for breath, trembling as he hiccuped and tried not to hyperventilate.

In a way, he felt kind of pathetic. Wondered if Lifty did too. For every excruciatingly painful death that they faced, everything that was more than likely worse than this, Shifty was still… unnerved. Terrified. Was it the threat of permanence, or was the thought, the sound, the feelings, the imagery all too much?

His golden gaze drifted back over to Splendont as he sniffed, wishing his hands were free so he could wipe away the tears, even if to the point the skin around his eyes was raw. He didn't want to be seen like this, even by his boyfriend who had seen him in even more vulnerable states.

The lady hit the ground as he let go of her. “Y-yes… I… I promise…” she wheezed out, and he saw that glimmer of fear within her eyes. She, who felt now what they'd felt. 

Lifty's phone was picked up off the ground and presented to the hero, who took it. “Stay here. I want to see you tell them not to mess with these two. If you try to run, I will find you.” He received a nod in response as she sank to the ground, and he smirked at her before turning his attention to them. He began to undo their bindings, and as soon as his arms were free, he wiped away the tears, taking in a shaky breath and not meeting Splendont's gaze. Instead, once he believed himself to no longer look like a pathetic mess, he grabbed Lifty's hand, making circles with his thumb on his brother's palm.

“Hey. Look at me. You're gonna be okay. Both of you,” Splendont gently grabbed his chin, placing a kiss on his lips before the motion made him flinch and think of the way he'd been held before. He did the same to Lifty, who simply clung onto him and cried. Shifty hesitated, feeling the tears return as he let out a breath, shuddering as he simply stared at him, a wide-eyed mess, trembling like a frightened child, crying like one too.

And yet wordlessly, he followed in Lifty's example, clinging onto Splendont and letting out an anguished sob, mentally pleading for him not to let go, to just… let it happen. Just until he could compose himself. Just until his heart no longer was about to beat out of his chest.

–––––

Even back at their apartment, even after witnessing the scum and her associates promise to leave them be, even when his tears had stopped, even when Splendont was holding them so close to him, rubbing their backs comfortingly, he still felt… indescribably not good. It probably would be the last time they went for a walk or something so late at night. It'd probably fuck with their insomnia even more. Nightmares? Maybe! Because fuck him and Lifty, they deserved the worst possible fucking cards in life at every given opportunity, right?

“Damn it,” he hissed, voice cracking as tears welled up in his eyes again. Why did he have to keep thinking about how he felt? It just made him fall back into crying again, a cycle that was hard to break.

“Shifty,” Splendont murmured softly, holding him closer, wiping away the tears gently. “It's okay to cry and be scared. I think anyone would in your situation.”

“It doesn't feel okay,” he snapped half-heartedly, sniffling, shutting his eyes tightly. “I hate feeling like this, I hate the fact it happened, and I hate the fact that the problem we tried to solve by going out is just going to get worse!”

“Shift…” Lifty murmured softly, looking at him. “...He's right.”

’I KNOW he's right but it doesn't make it feel any better!’ he wanted to shout, but he just held his tongue, burying his face into Splendont's chest.

Splendont continued to rub his back, just holding him while he cried and sobbed like a child. It was soothing, and Lifty grabbed his hand and held it too.

“I love you,” Splendont murmured, kissing his forehead. “More than words can describe. And I'm so glad I got there before they did anything worse because I wouldn't be able to live with myself if something did happen to you. I would take a thousand bullets for the two of you, run through fields of fire and lava, turn back time if I had to. I'd die so many deaths for you… Anything to keep you two safe.”

“I'm sorry,” Lifty murmured softly. “I'm sorry, it was stupid of us to go out so late especially given we live here, but… but we couldn't sleep and we didn't want to just sit around.”

Splendont let out a breath. “Don't apologize. I was feeling restless tonight myself. God, I'm so lucky I was on my way to do an extra round of patrols when I got that text. But… you know what I'm about to say, right?”

“...You don't want us to wander outside at night anymore,” Shifty answered, lifting his head up. “We weren't going to. Not for a while.”

Splendont nodded. “Not alone, at least. If you want to go take a walk, call me. I'll drop everything for you.”

“You're too good. Too good for us,” Lifty murmured. “...Love you…”

“Yeah. We love you.” Shifty added. “...Thanks. For saving us, for… staying with us, for everything.”

They both let out a soft gasp as Splendont pulled them closer, peppering kisses onto their faces. And finally, Shifty no longer felt the dark and cold pit of dread and fear in his stomach, but rather a warm feeling. Love. Safety. The tension began to melt as he relaxed in his boyfriend's arms, giving his brother's hand a squeeze.

Maybe when Splendont left, it would return. But for now he knew they were safe and loved, and that was good enough for him.

[an1chovies]

i wrote this bc i didn’t want to write my essay in ap lang, n will maybe never finsih this

"What are you doing?"

As of right now, Lucas caught sight of Max, sharpie in hand and ready to draw on Mike's sleeping face.

"Expressing my frustrations through art." She simply replied, a small grin on her face. "He ate the last brownie piece that Mrs. Wheeler had baked, which is totally uncivil like since he's our host."

For context, Mike had invited the Party over to his house the previous day; there were promises of sweets, pizza, and a movie marathon of everyone's favorites. Max claimed the last brownie as hers before heading upstairs for a glass of juice, yet when she came down, she saw Mike gobbling up her piece.

She will never forget the smug look on his face.

"Sounds good." It's none of his business, and honestly, sometimes it's best to let Max put Mike in his place.

"Heard you took Will to see The Goonies last weekend." Beginning to start with the outline of whatever the hell she was drawing.

"Yeah, I did, while you were doing god knows what with El." Max's fond smile at the mere mention of the other's name didn't go unnoticed. "I took Will to the movies, no biggie."

"Oh please, 'no biggie,' my ass." Immediately going in for the tease. "Bet you were like: Oh Will, drinks are on me. Oh, Will, I love getting you away from Sir Leechs a lot."

Even if these were playground teases, Lucas still found himself a little flushed.

"Careful, or you're going to end up waking." A nod in Mike's direction. "It's like his ears can pick up whenever you're making fun of him."

On cue, Mike's face scrunched a little, muttering something about 'the voices.' Max made a weird look at that.

"So...how good was The Goonies? El has been dying to have a movie date." Ah yes, El and her love for cliché tropes. "It's either that, or The Breakfast club, and she didn't seem interested in the latter."

Lucas thought about her question for a while, even if it was about a movie. About to finally answer when Max interrupted.

"On a scale from 1-10, how pissed do you think Mike will get if I draw like glasses and a mustache on him?" She didn't even bother to wait for his answer, already going ahead with the idea.

"You already took out his front tooth-"

"I did not 'take out his front tooth,'" she mocked. "I only chipped it."

Lucas recalls the day Mike revealed his injured tooth. How displeased and upset he looked, his brows were furrowed. Every time Max talked to him, he'd give her an attitude before growing into a shittier mood.

The whole ordeal was sad, yet funny at the same time. Only Mike Wheeler would lose his tooth that way.

"Same difference, the point is, you're just going to get him more irritated at you." Sharpie doesn't come off easily, Lucas has learned that the hard way.

"So? He's funny when he gets mad...but also really annoying, but the funny part balances it out." Hands holding Mike's chin, she smiled at her work so far.

"You're not going to think it's funny when he starts complaining about every small thing." The last time he'd been mad, he began nitpicking the size of a chip.

"Puh-lease." Now beginning to write a small: 'Max is cool!! Mike sucks.' "He's out like a stone, by the time he wakes up, we'll be gone."

Once again, Mike moved in his sleep, muttering about rocks and for Max to get away from the rocks.

"Oh, by the way, do you know where Dustin and Will are?" Drawing little hearts on Mike's cheeks, as well as stars. "This is Dustin's house, Will arrived with Mike, but there's no Dustin or Will."

"They biked over to Family Video, apparently Steve has a job there, so Dustin wanted to see what kind of deal they could get off movies now." And then, he realized something. "We're not at Dustin's, we're at Mike's." Giving her a look of confusion.

"Really? Could've sworn this was Dustin's house."

Lucas's face contorted into a weird one, debating on if he should or shouldn't question his friend.

"How much you wanna bet he's going to whine to Will about this?" Max asked, deciding to switch the topic.

"10 bucks that he does, and he clings onto him for the rest of the night." Easiest 10 dollars he'll ever make.

"Deal."

"Don't tell me Lucas is betting again." Dustin groaned, the stairs creaking as both he and Will entered the basement.

Will was carrying a stack of movies. "What's the bet this time?"

"You'll see, just wait, and you'll see." Max grinned, the lightbulb in her head turning on. "Hey, Will, wanna play tic-tac-toe?"

"Sure, just give me a moment." Unaware of where exactly she was hosting the game, setting the tapes onto a nearby table. "Can't believe Steve let you take this amount of movies."

"Will, my good sir, always take advantage of Steve working the counter." Patting his friend's shoulder, shifting his gaze to Max and Mike before letting out a small chuckle.

Dustin knows where Max wants to play tic-tac-toe.

And god, he can't wait to see Mike's reaction to his face full of marker.

Looking through the movies one final time before turning over towards Max. "Alright, where's the pap-"

Keeping her laughter to a giggle, better not wake up Mike before she can even start to play. "No no no, never mind, you're definitely going to start losing your shit midway, and I want to see El's reaction."

Will opened his mouth, to either argue that he would not ‘lose his shit’ or to not draw on Mike's face.

Taking another small glance. "Excuse me." He muttered before going upstairs.

Lucas, Max, and Dustin shared a look, wondering what was up with him.

"I didn't think me drawing on Wheeler would upset him."

"Maybe he realized Mrs. Wheeler had made cookies with brownies?"

"I think he dropped a disk in the living room and wanted to go get it back."

All of those answers were wrong, and laughter was heard.

Will had gone upstairs to lose his shit.

"If Thing Two is laughing like that, I can't wait to hear Thing One's reaction." A small grin appeared on Max's mouth.

"She's probably going to start giggling as soon as she sees the glasses outline." Dustin could see it now. "Like how she began laughing when Mike showed us what the rock did to his tooth."

Lucas snorted at that. "Or when Mike tripped going up the stairs."

"Or the time he slammed the door on his finger." Max giggled.

"I remember that!" Dustin exclaimed, covering his mouth quickly.

Mike's eyes opened slightly, he let out a small groan before closing them again.

"He sounded like Tom even jolted like him too." Finishing his sentence quietly.

Max bit the inside of her mouth to hold in her laugh at the memory. Out of anyone in the party, Mike is so easy to laugh about—it's not even funny.

"Anyone want to play one round?" She offered, drumming her fingers lightly against his cheeks.

The two boys shared a look for a moment before Lucas nodded his head.

"I will."

"Would end up absolutely losing my shit while playing." Dustin had also wanted to be the referee for this game.

Every time tic-tac-toe is played, someone cries, and everyone in the party argues.

"'Kay." Lifting Mike's head a bit to cradle it in her lap, thanking god that the marker didn't smudge off onto her fingers.

Lucas sat down in front of Mike and Max, getting a better view of what was on his friend's face.

"Oh my god." He whispered in disbelief. "How did you manage to fit so many things to draw on here."

Max shrugged before grinning. "Sheer willpower to avenge my stolen brownie."

The door to the basement opened.

"-so funny that you're laughing about it?"

"You just gotta see, El, you just gotta see."

And to everyone's joyous surprise -El's the greatest- both of the wonder twins made an appearance!

Max quickly shoved Lucas off the couch, smiling at her girlfriend. God, she could just go on about how much she absolutely adored El.

“Ouch, hey!”

“Hey is for horses, shut up before you wake the one who shall not be named up.” Letting out a yelp when Lucas pinched her leg.

“Oh Will and El, come kiss Lucas’ and Max better.” Dustin teased, he ended up getting a marker and coke can launched at him.

El rolled her eyes “What’d you guys do now that had Will choking on air practically?” Nudging her brother gently, she wants to shake her friends in a can sometimes.

When her eyes landed on Max with a sleeping Mike cradled on her lap, noticing the doodles and words on his face.

Immediately she bursted out laughing.

“You haven’t even seen it up close, and you’re already losing it!” Will joined in, slouching on his sister for support.

“Oh my god, he’s going to blow his shit, I can’t-“

It was funny, so funny that El ended up losing her balance, so down came crashing her and Will.

“Shush, you’re going to wake-“ Sentence lost, he couldn’t keep it together. Trying to cover his mouth, slapping a hand over his sister’s own mouth.