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rainylana · 2 years

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“Why the hell would you say something like that?”

Eddie Munson x reader

summary: instead of the shitty ending we got, he’s gonna live in this fic. you’re welcome<3

warnings: mentions of blood and injuries, crying, trauma, major angst and fluff, language.

a/n: writing is something that is so fun and spectacular. you can create and imagine anything you please. so for me, eddie lives on! and I’m going to continue to dream and write about him! you were a hero eddie, it was your year. thank you for making my life brighter. we love you big boy❤️

“Just promise- promise me y-you won’t lose your- yourself, okay? You have to- live. You have to live, y/n.”

“Shut up! Stop talking like that! You’re going to be fine, Eddie!”

Dustin squeezed your right hand, the slow beeping of Eddie’s bedside vitals being the only thing heard. The room was crowded, everyone slumped in seats, Steve and Robin crouched on the floor. Everyone had tears going down their faces, but you couldn’t shed any.

“We have to get him to a hospital! Dustin- Dustin help me! Steve! Where’s Steve we need him!”

Living in Hawkins was not easy, it never was. You always bounced back, though, whatever the menace that decided to curse the town that season. But this, vecna, everything. It was different this time, and not just for you. Your eyes were glued to the floor, your lips parted as you breathed. There was a feeling in your body that you didn’t understand, a heaviness in your heart.

You were completely traumatized. You’d never seen so much blood, his wounds ripped open from violet claw and teeth marks. His beautiful, shiny white teeth had been stained red. You couldn’t get his face out of your head, smiling up at you from your lap.

“I love you so- so much. You- you’re so beautiful.”

“Dustin, help me carry him! Come on, Eddie, you’re gonna be okay! Shh, it’s alright.”

Violent coughs had smacked you in the face, his mouth spewing blood that made you sob. It had all happened so fast, as cliche as it sounded. You kept replaying every moment in your head, thinking maybe, if you pinched yourself hard enough, you’d wake up from the dream you were having.

He had screamed in pain as you and dustin dragged him to the doorway to your world, and you cried and cried, apologizing profusely. But, you had been running on adrenaline, both you and Dustin, and it made carrying him easier.

No one had spoke for nearly an hour, and despite the glum faces, there was reason to celebrate. Eleven had defeated Vecna. Joyce and Hopper were back. Hopper was alive. Max was hurt with several injuries, but she would be okay. Her and Lucas would be okay. You glanced over to Mike and Eleven, where she rested her head on his shoulder. God, everyone had gotten so much older.

And despite all this happiness, Hawkins’s victory, Eleven’s victory, you couldn’t stop thinking about it.

“I’m not g-going to make it, y/n. put m-me down, you can’t carry me. dustin make her-”

“No, I’m not leaving you here, dammit! I won’t! We’re almost there, Ed’s, just hang on, honey.”

You had physically exhausted yourself with your strength, Dustin too. You gulped, your eyes going up to his bed. He looked so pale, so cold. His hair was wet and matted with his blood. The nurse had cleaned him some, but it didn’t help much. He was going to be fine, the doctor said, and it was all because you had gotten him to the hospital just in time. He was near bled out when you had arrived. But you wouldn’t believe it until you seen his opened his, his pink lips curling into a smile.

And it wasn’t like you were trying to take away the spotlight from everyone, but they hadn’t seen it, besides Dustin, who still clung tightly to your hand. They didn’t hear his screams, how terrified he looked despite his smile. Their hearts didn’t break, yours did. Eddie was still alive, yes. Your best friend, your lover, and it was the greatest gift god had ever given you, but your heart was shattered by agonizing trauma.

“You hungry?” Dustin’s voice dragged you away from your thoughts, and you blinked tiredly as you turned your head to look at him.

The poor kid was exhausted, and you seen the look on his face that yours held. No one else’s had it, just you two. You shook your head. Eating was the last thing you wanted. “No.” You whispered.

“Me neither.” He sighed, looking at his friends. “You think Eddie will need anything from the trailer?” He spoke to everyone, gaining their attention. “I mean, he’s going to be here for a while.”

“I could go,” Nancy spoke up, her bushy hair wild and bright with crimson colors. “What should I bring, y/n?”

The attention was on you then, and you pushed out a squeaky breath. “I, uh-” You looked over at Eddie, your sweet, sweet boy. You blinked tiredly, a lump building in your throat.

Dustin’s eyes bore into yours, and he patted your knee, letting go. “I’ll go with you, Nance. I know what he’ll want.”

It wasn’t till a half hour later, did Eddie make his sign of life. The room was dead quiet, and you heard it, that little whine that was undeniably his. Everyone’s eyes snapped up to him, and you sat up, your breath in your throat.

“Eddie?” Mike shot up, going to his side. “Eddie, can you hear us? It’s me, Mike!”

You stopped breathing, your fingers squeezing the arm wrests as everyone watched with anticipation. Another groan, a twitch of his arm, and then- “Wheeler?”

Everyone cheered at the sound of his cracked, hoarse voice, going to his side. You watched as his eyes peeled open, those beautiful brown eyes that you loved so much. You seen how quickly life replenished in his face, the color already coming back to him, and Steve helped him in a comfortable sitting position.

But you couldn’t get up and run to him. You couldn’t cheer along like they did. You felt like fainting, truthfully. Your face contorted into tears, your body hunching over as your hands covered your face, your elbows resting on your knees. The relief you felt was too overwhelming for you to do anything else, so you just sat there and cried.

“Where is she? My girl?” Eddie beamed, looking up at everyone’s faces. “Y/n, is she here-" He was interrupted by a sob, your sob, and everyone quickly followed the sound. He cocked his head to see around everyone, and then, he saw you. You were in the corner of the room, your hands covering your face, and you were unapologetically sobbing to yourself.

His bright eyes creased at your figure, and he awkwardly tried to set up, biting his lip as a sharp pain went through his stomach. Robin was the first to read the room, and she softly patted Steve’s shoulder, and the quietly ushered everyone out of the room.

“Y/n?” He smiled softly, his voice full of love. He wanted to see your face so badly. You kept crying though, steadily in your hands as you listened to his voice.

“You gonna look at me, sweetheart?”

You sniffled loudly, your hands shaking as you peeled them away from your face. His eyes softened even more at you. You looked at the ground for a few more seconds, and then you batted your eyes up to him. Your heart soared at his beautiful face.

“Hey, you,” He said playfully, tilting his head. He wasn’t clueless to realize you were crying tears of joy, even though there was much more to it.

You could only look at him, your chest heaving as tears fell down your face. You felt on the verge of a panic attack.

“You know,” He raised his brows. “If you really wanted me gone, you could of pulled the plug.” He chuckled, teasing as he nodded to the electrical wires around him.

You choked on a sob, turning to face the window as you shook your head. “Why the hell would you say something like that?”

His smile dropped at the sound of your voice. It wasn’t just tears of joy, you sounded legitimately upset. Your voice was about as hoarse and cracked as his was, and he noticed the tear tracks that fell down your neck. “Sorry, I shouldn’t of said that.” He licked his lips, frowning when you didn’t look any better. “Hey- hey, honey, come here.” He rushed smoothly, wincing as he sat up.

You obeyed blindly, sniffling and whimpering as you shuffled to his bed. You stilled right beside him, and he looked up at you. “You can touch me, you know,” He said slowly, acting as if you were a baby deer. “I won’t disappear, kiddo,” He chuckled, reaching out to brush his hand against your arm.

The touch was enough to melt you. You nearly fell atop of him, your face burying itself in his chest, your arms wrapping around his shoulders, knees smacking against the floor.

“Whoa, hey,” He wrapped his arms around you. “It’s okay, I’m here, baby.” His muscles aches and spasmed at the weight of you, but he held you tightly anyways. You cried into his chest, your hands fisting his shirt. You reached up and grasped his face, sobbing as your eyes locked into his.

“God,” You cried, resting your face against his. “Oh, god, Eddie.”

“I’m alright, y/n,” He grabbed your chin. “Calm down, take a breath. I’m fine.” It was alarming how much you were crying, how upset you were.

His other hand softly petted the back of your head, his thumbs circling your cheek. “I’m alright.” He pressed a soft kiss against your lips, drinking in your whimpers.

“I’m guessing you missed me then?” He chuckled, closing his eyes.

“I want us to leave, Eddie.” You sniffled, grabbing his face, whimpering at his features. He was still alive, you told yourself. “I can’t- we can’t stay here, Eddie, please. Please-”

“Woah, woah, what?” He sat up, looking up at you. “What are you talking-”

“I can’t.” You sobbed, your voice cracking heavily. Your hand clasped over his heart, shaking your head. “No more, Eddie. We can’t keep- I don’t want to live here anymore! It’s too dangerous, and I can’t-”

He looked at you with wide eyes, his hands resting on your arms. “Y/n,”

“I can’t live without you.” You said more quietly, voice coated with traumatized tears. “Eddie, I was so scared. I still- I’m still scared, I don’t wanna l-loose you! Please, tell me we can go! Please,”

“Okay, okay, shh,” He grabbed your face. “Calm down, shh, it’s alright.” He pulled you close, holding you as tight as he could. He realized know just how traumatized you were. Really, he had trouble remembering all about what happened. He remembered the pain, and the sound of both your screams. He remembered how stubborn you were as you dragged him through the upside down with Henderson. “Y/n, I’m alright, you hear me? I’m here, you’re here. We’re alive, sweetheart. We’re okay.”

You sobbed into his chest, your hand resting at the back of his neck. “Don’t ever leave me.” You cried. “Swear it. Swear you won’t leave me again.”

Despite all of this, he’d never felt more confident. Finally, in his life, he didn’t run. Sure, he got torn up in shreds, but he didn’t run. He was a hero, and it was his year. You made it his year. “I swear it.”

#eddie stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things season four #joseph quinn #eddie munson fluff

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xetswan · 9 months

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Youngest Shadow- Crash It

One | two | three | four | five | six |

Today was the day of my 6th Volleyball game out of 14. It’s a Home game.

Every single game has been attended by Jacob, Quil and Embry. Sometimes Sam and Billy. Bella made it to about two. Clearly needing to do her own thing I understood. If I didn’t understand a sport I wouldn’t want to go either.

She makes me sit with her at lunch still, I got kind of close with Angela. She’s cool. She also comes to games but that’s to take pictures, helping with the yearbook committee.

Bella and I walk out of the house together. I see my bike is gone and remembered I had to give it to Jacob for maintenance. Since he offered I was getting it done for free.

It’s also raining so I’m kind of glad I don’t have to choice to ride it. Sometimes the rain drops hurt like a bitch. I lift my hood up, walking behind Bella as we go down the steps. “Great.” She mutters under her breath.

Charlie pulls in with her truck. “Dad I can drive us to school myself.” As we get closer to the bottomed step she slips and falls on her ass. Tripping due to not watching where I was going I go forward.

“You okay, Bells? [Name]?” Charlie climbs out of the truck, helping Bella up and then the both help me. I ripped a new pair of jeans, hissing in pain from my hands I wipe it on my sweater that’s not so new. Luckily I didn’t bleed at all. “Ice doesn’t help the uncoordinated.” Bella frowns at her own joke.

“Clearly.” I groan.

“That’s why I got you new tires.” Charlie points to the red truck. “The other ones were nearly bald.”

“You got me new tires. No one’s ever don’t that before.” Both Charlie and I look at her confused. “I mean… nothing.”

He glances at me, not getting it but he heads to his cruiser.

“I won’t make it to dinner or the game. I’m heading down to Mason County. A security guard at the Grisham Mill got killed by some kind of animal.” He explains to us.

“An animal?” Bella asks, confused.

“You’re not in Phoenix anymore, honey. They’ve been hunting it for a week with no luck. Thought I’d lend a hand.” He puts it simply. “Be careful.” We say in unison.

“Always am.”

“And thank you for the tires.”

I’d thought by now they wouldn’t be so awkward with each other but I am very wrong. The tension is so thick it couldn’t even be cut with a knife.

Change of pov

Rain was still hitting hard. Eric and Bella walk together into Biology. She brushes off her coat as he talks. “And yeah, prom committee is a chick thing, but I gotta cover it for the paper anyway and they need a guy to help choose the music. So I need your playlist.” Eric explains but before the girl can respond Mike comes up behind her. “Come on, Arizone. Give it up for the rain.” He shakes his wet baseball cap onto Bella’s head.

“Terrific.” She walks away, ignoring them to get to her seat.

She freezes once she notices Edward. She straightens her posture, striding to the shared table confidently. Dropping her books in front of him, ready to address him but instead he looks up at her and speaks.

“Hello.”

She stops, automatically stunned. “I didn’t have a chance to introduce myself last week. My name is Edward Cullen.”

She’s too shocked to respond, she wasn’t expecting him to talk to her. “You’re Bella.” He stares, not questioning.

“I’m… yes.” She finally sits, feeling stupid.

He abruptly moves to the edge of his seat away from her. She’s baffled to say the least, smelling her hair as if she stinks.

“Onion root tip cells! That’s what’s on your slides. Separate and label them into the phases of mitosis. The first partners to get it right win the golden onion!” Mr. Molina holds up a gold spray painted onion but disappointed by the little to no reaction.

“Come on people, tick tock.”

Everyone gets to work. Edward pushes the microscope towards Bella, still keeping a distance.

“Ladies first.” She grabs it defensively and snaps the first slide in, adjusting the lens. “You’ve been gone.”

“Out of town. Personal reasons.” He was curt like her, short with his answers.

“Prophase.” She says, going to remove the slide. “May I look?” She slides the scope to him, he looks into it. “Prophase.”

“Like I said.”

He writes it down on the work sheet. He takes a deep breath, turning to her. “Enjoying the rain?”

“Seriously? You’re asking me about the weather?” She seems offended. “It appears.”

“No, unlike my sister I don’t like the cold, or the wet. Or the grey. Or the parkas. Or the turtlenecks.”

There was a small smile that played on his lips.

He actually seemed interested in what she had to say. He studies her like her sister did to him days ago. But she can’t tell if he despises her or not. “What?”

He shakes his head and turns to the microscope, switching out the slides. She continues to stare at him, appreciating his evident beauty. His cheekbones to his lips.

“Anaphase.” She snaps out of her daze to go back to giving a dry look.

“May I?” She mocks him for before, looking into the lens.

“Anaphase.”

“Like I said.”

They change the slide.

“If you hate the cold and rain, why move to the wettest place in the continental U.S.?” He quizzes her.

“It’s complicated.” Simple answer, but he’s intrigued so he pushes.

“I think I can keep up.” She looks at him quickly then looking away back at the scope. He seems to be paying attention very intently.

“My mother remarried.” Another simple response.

“Very complex. So you don’t like him.” A statement, he doesn’t question himself.

“Phil is fine. Young for her but nice enough.” She tells. “Interphase.”

At the end of school she’s still holding the golden onion. She bumps into Edward on accident. “Why didn’t you stay with your mom and step dad? Or your sister?” He waits patiently for her to say something, studying her like before.

“Alright, Phil’s a minor league baseball player, so he travels a lot. My mother stayed home with me and [Name] but it made her unhappy. And my sister has always been a daddy’s girl. So I decided to spend time with my father too.” She explains everything. “But now you’re unhappy.” He states himself again.

“No I… I just.” She turns away, embarrassed.

Back to You

At the end of the day I stood beside Angela and Jessica. Since our game was today I don’t see a point in going all the way home just to come back to the school.

I watch my sister head for her truck, shivering. Once she got there she looked back, making little eye contact with me and then staring at the Cullens. More specifically, Edward? I think that’s his name if I’m remembering correctly.

Their eyes met then there was a loud screech only getting louder by the second. A van skids out of control, heading right for my older sister.

I felt frozen for a second, running over there immediately. The van comes to a complete stop after spinning out. Like something forcefully stopped it. I didn’t see anything as it had happened so fast. The van had only hit the back of the truck, leaving a dent that was definitely noticeable to the eye.

After milliseconds everyone went berserk, roaring into screams of trying to get help, calling 911.

Mike and Eric yell if she’s okay, I watched Edward who was once at his Volvo now leaving the scene. Wanting to ask him what happened I shake my head, pushing the two boys out of my way. “Bells, Bella?!” I cried out, falling down to her level, feeling the pain in my knees from earlier but ignoring it. I took her into my arms as she was obviously in shock.

I ended up driving her and the boy who crashed into her, Tyler a ride to the hospital.

I told him to shut up on our way there. Even sitting in the room as they got checked up on I sat there glaring at him.

Minutes later, Charlie rushes in. “Bells, are you alright?“

“I’m fine dad, calm down.” She assures gun but it’s not enough. “I’m so sorry Bella. I tried to stop.” Tyler apologizes.

“It’s okay Tyler.” Bella tells him and I scoff. “It sure as hell is not okay.” Charlie says, I nod agreeing. “Dad it’s not his fault.”

“We nearly lost you.”

“But you didn’t.” She says, I pull her into a hug since Dad is glaring at Tyler like I once was. “You can kiss your license goodbye.” He sternly tells the boy and I watch his body falter.

I notice Dr. Cullen approach us and if I didn’t know anything I would’ve thought he was a movie star. I didn’t pay Trenton to what they were talking about. I focused on his face, observing him as he talked. Just like I did with his foster kids. Then I heard Tyler apologizing once again, since I was closest I closed the curtain getting a fist bump from my dad.

“It would’ve been a lot worse if Edward hadn’t knocked me out of the way.” Bella says ignoring dad and I’s antics.

“Edward? Your boy?” Charlie asks only to not get a response.

Dr. Cullen adverts his eyes, I watch Bella press. I’m guessing she knew something that was making him uncomfortable. “It was amazing he got to me so fast. He was nowhere near me.”

The blonde man smiles.

“As long as you’re safe.”

We leave the treatment area. “I just have to sign some paperwork. You better call your mom.” He points to Bella.

“You told her?! She’s probably freaking out!” He just shrugs and walks off.

She pulls her phone out and I laugh, earning an eye roll. Then we both look down the hall, hearing an argument. “Stay here.” She orders as if I was so much younger than her. She gets a little closer to whatever was happening.

Not meaning to but the curiosity getting the best of me I do the same thing.

“This isn’t about you. It’s about all of us.” It was Rosalie. I raise an eyebrow but Dr. Cullen definitely saw Bella, taking Rosalie inside his office.

I sit for a moment, but I see Bella talking to Edward so I just walk the other way, pulling out my phone as I felt it vibrating.

It’s Jacob calling, shit.

I answered it quickly. I forgot all about my Volleyball game that’s in… 35 minutes.

“Hello?” I spoke to,

“Hey, where are you? Are you okay? I heard something about an accident with you and Bella?” He freaks out, i why shush him trying to calm him down.

“Hey, everything is fine. No damage was done. Bella was apart if it but no scratches, just a bump on the head. I’m sorry I should’ve called.” I told him, hugging my self with my open arm.

“Oh, I’m glad you’re both okay, I’m glad shes okay.” He sighs like he had just been holding in a long breath.

“Yeah, yeah. Everything is good. I’m just going to keep watch on Bella for a little. Could you let my coach know what happened. I’m sure she knows but y’know?”

“Totally understand, I will let her know. Call me later tonight?” He sounded hopeful and I smile to myself.

“Of course, I’ll call around 9.” I say

“Can’t wait…”

“Knock it off.”

I was going to ask what he meant by that but I hear the other guys in the background and I laugh.

I hung up, not seeing Bella come up to me, she grabbed my shoulder causing me to jump and almost drop my phone.

“Who was that?”

“Jacob. He asked if we were okay since he went to my game as usual. Seeing I wasn’t there freaked him out.” I take a deep breath through my nose.

“I completely forgot about that. We can still make it.” She says in a hurried tone but I shake my head.

“Coach wouldn’t let me play anyway. There’s no point.” I laugh, putting a hand on her arm.

“I’m sorry.” She frowns.

“No need, you should call mom though.”

She whines to herself, pulling her phone out again.

Charlie walks out and we go outside. I drove the truck home.

Later that night I call Jacob like I told him I would. He tells me about the game since they stayed due to Quil wanting to.

“It would’ve been a better game with you for sure.” He says and I could hear the smile.

“I know, I’m just so amazing.” I brag, playing with my tongue piercing as I hear his laugh.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have boasted your ego.”

“What ego?” I jokingly say.

I look over ti my clock, seeing the time and it was already 11:30.

I was surprised Charlie hadn’t come and told me to go to bed.

“Ah, we should go to bed.” I start to say, I heard a small thump from Bella’s room upstairs and I stood up carefully strutting towards the door.

“[Name]?” Jacob calls, I snap out of whatever trance I was in. Not hearing anything else from Bella’s room so I go back to my bed.

“Sorry I got distracted. Goodnight, Jake.” My voice was a little raspy from being tired.

“Goodnight.” He ends up hanging up the phone and I lay back in my bed.

Thinking about everything that happened today.

Chapter three, unedited.

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withacapitalp · 1 year

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Happy birthday Cass!!! I don't know if you remember this, but this was the first thing I wrote that started our friendship so I wrote a little add on as a birthday present and I hope you like it <3 @henderdads

Eddie noticed everything.

Eddie noticed the exact shade of brown that Steve’s eyes turned when the sunlight hits his face. He noticed that Steve cut Dustin’s sandwiches into triangles, El’s into rectangles, and always took the crusts off of Mike’s. He noticed that Steve stuck money in Wayne’s wallet when he knew that Wayne is dead asleep in his easy chair. Never enough for Wayne to catch on, just enough that Wayne could always afford a new pack of smokes if he wanted.

So of course Eddie noticed Steve's…thing about numbers.

The first time was with the shoes. Steve always seemed like a bit of a neat freak, but he had this especially weird thing about always making sure everyone’s shoes were lined up in perfect order.

The next thing was the steps while they were walking. It was like his boyfriend would purposefully miss the doorway, walk a few steps farther just so he could turn around and walk in on the right number.

But the rings….it’s the thing with the rings that makes Eddie confront him.

When he came home that night and found Steve shaking in a ball on the floor, Eddie had just held him, and then he had done his best to try and let them move past it. Steve would pick his rings in the morning, and Eddie would be content to just let Steve have his quirks. That would work.

But the curiosity continued to grow as the coincidences continued to mount and before too long Eddie couldn’t ignore it any more.

“So what’s special about seven?” Eddie asked as Steve slid the last ring off for the day. It was a thick black one with angel wings on one side and demon wings on the other. It was Steve’s favorite.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Steve said with far too much casualness, keeping his eyes firmly on their joined fingers.

“Baby,” Eddie said softly, leaning in close and touching their foreheads, “You don’t have to tell me, but please don’t lie,”

“Nothing,” Steve finally whispered, pulling back, “There’s nothing.

God, Eddie loved Steve with all his heart, but sometimes it really was just like pulling teeth.

“Stevie-”

“I’m not lying,” Steve said, quickly cutting Eddie off. He was starting to tap again, drumming the fingers of his free hand against his thigh in that oh so familiar pattern, “There’s nothing special about the number seven. Nothing important,”

“But?” Eddie prompted when Steve trailed off. His boyfriend oepneed and closed his mouth a few time

“But I can’t stop counting to it,” Steve blurted out in a rush, turning away from Eddie and burying his face in his hands

“To seven,” Eddie clarified, still unable to understand.

“Seven kids, Seven adults, my birthday is July 7th.” Steve said, muffled but clearly filled with shame, “I can't stop looking for sevens, because if I stop, then someone will get hurt, and it'll be my fault,”

Eddie's breath left his lungs, making the room feel too small. He knew Steve had a thing about sevens but this…this was beyond anything he could have thought of.

He must have been doing a pretty terrible job of hiding the horror on his face, because the second Steve looked up he huffed out a bitter little laugh and wrapped his arms tight around his middle.

“I know that makes me crazy, okay? I know that. I know that I'm crazy, I know that it means nothing. I know, I know, I know,” Steve said, growing more and more frantic with every word. Eddie crawled to the edge of the bed next to him, putting an arm around Steve's shoulder and holding him tight.

“But I can't stop, Eddie. I can't stop, I can't stop,” Steve admitted in a broken whisper, falling into his arms and breaking down in a very uncharacteristic, very terrifying way.

“I can't stop because if I do you'll get jumped at the school, and Robin will get in a car accident, and the gate is gonna reopen, and the kids are gonna die and, and- I can't stop. I can't stop. I can't stop.”

Steve continued to mutter into Eddie's shoulder as he fell apart. Over and over, until he cried himself to sleep.

He couldn't stop. Which meant Steve had tried to.

Which meant Steve wanted to.

The word finally hit him as Eddie tucked the blanket around Steve and pressed a kiss to his boyfriend's forehead, lying down next to him and holding him close. It really was the perfect word for the situation, but the word that created a host of other complications. Still Eddie couldn't make it leave his head as he laid awake the entire night.

Not a habit. Not an addiction.

It was a compulsion.

#steve harrington #stranger things #st #eddie munson #steddie #st drabble #st4 #happy birthday Lex 2 #ocd #obsessive compulsive disorder #steve Harrington has ocd

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sirianasims · 7 days

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Chapter 43.5

Idiot.

The voice in my head is persistent. It’s been over two months but it’s not letting up.

I try to focus on the lines, struggling to keep the faint remnants of my Tartosan accent from creeping into Llama Man’s commanding voice. It’s always more difficult just after I’ve been home.

Idiot.

Images from the last year keep flashing by, little details seared into my brain. Her green eyes. Her smile. The delicate birthmarks artfully strewn across her face. I used to insist on kissing each of them goodbye before I left and it always made her laugh.

It was the best sound in the world.

Idiot.

The more recent images are a different story. Her tears. The look of shock and confusion in her eyes. She didn’t understand, of course, and some days I’m not sure I do either. Am I an idiot for leaving her? Or for letting myself fall in love with her in the first place?

Both?

“Alright, Paul, that was good, but let’s do an extra take just to be sure.”

I nod at the sound technician and start over.

“I’ve sent the files off to Mike. Personally, I don’t think he’ll demand another round, the last two takes were flawless.”

“Thanks. I’m sorry for dragging you in for pick-ups again, I’ve been feeling a bit off lately.”

“Hey, it’s a pay check. And I’m going to need it for the move. We want to get settled into the new house before my son’s wedding so we’re already packing.”

“Did you find a job in Henford yet?”

“Not yet, but my wife got an offer. We’ll make it work. My kid is the only family I have left, so if he moves abroad, we follow. And I never liked staying in one place for too long anyway, I get restless.”

“Well, best of luck over there, Charles. The new sound tech will have some big shoes to fill.”

“Thanks, Paul. It’s been a pleasure working with you.”

Charles leaves, and I turn on the coffee machine.

I’ve just finished pouring two mugs when Lee arrives.

“Oh, you must have read my mind, love, I am positively dying for a coffee right now.”

“When are you not?”

Lee settles onto the sofa with a sigh.

“It’s been one of those weeks, deadlines put such a damper on my creativity. But how was Tartosa? Did you have a nice birthday?”

“It was fine. I didn’t feel like making it a huge thing, but my mother had arranged a family dinner at the vineyard.”

“Ah, just an intimate and completely non-threatening gathering with fifteen to twenty people, then.”

I lean back against the counter and take a long sip of the coffee to avoid responding. It’s still too hot, and I grimace as the liquid burns my mouth. Idiot.

Lee isn’t so easily deterred, though.

“So, that’s it? You’re just never going to see her again?”

“Lee, first of all, she blocked me. On my birthday, no less. So I’m going to take that as a big fat hint and respect her wishes. Second, I broke up with her because it was a dead end. She’s not going to settle down for another decade, and when she does, she’s not going to pick some fifty year old relic.”

Lee raises an eyebrow.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Yeah, I said it. Sorry to break it to you, Lee, but you’re old. Ancient. Practically dust.”

“I’m choosing to ignore your hurtful remarks because you’re clearly heartbroken and out of your mind with grief.”

I snort. “Sorry. I’m fine, really, I’m just annoyed at myself.”

“For irrationally breaking up with the love of your life or for stubbornly refusing to reconsider?”

“For being an idiot in general, I guess. I knew it was a bad idea. I even told her as much the first time I met her. But then I just had to go back and talk to her again like a complete dumbass and she practically invited herself back to my hotel. How could I say no to that?”

Lee chuckles. “Oh, but you couldn’t, of course you couldn’t. I mean, she’s not exactly my type, but I can still appreciate the aesthetics, as it were.”

“Right? And that might even have been fine if it never went any further, but I got carried away and kept seeing her even though everyone could tell it was going to end badly. We’re both better off like this, I’ll get over it.”

Lee just looks at me over the rim of his glasses.

“Are you sure? I may be a dusty old relic but as far as I’m aware, the only way you could possibly know that she blocked you is if you spent your birthday trying to look her up.”

“Thanks, detective. It was a moment of weakness, you don’t need to rub it in my face.”

“I’m not trying to rub anything in your face, love, I know it’s not your thing. But you were clearly serious about her if you were planning to bring her to Tartosa. And just because the poor girl understandably got slightly intimidated, you drop her like a newborn giraffe. Why not give her some more time?”

“I didn’t… Lee, it was the sensible thing to do! I just turned forty, I can’t just spend years waiting for her to make up her mind and hope for the best.”

“I don’t share your fetish for monogamy, but I believe all relationships are like that, you can never be certain. But you’ve always been stubborn so I’ll just give you the usual break-up advice. Get a haircut, hit the gym, put yourself back out there. Will you at least see my stylist?”

“Never. I am not brave enough to let Jessica Clemons near my wardrobe.”

beginning / previous / next

#duchellilegacy #duchellichapters #duchelligen5 #paul romeo #charlie ward #lee thompson #oh hi charlie #bye charlie?#two protagonists? in this economy?#it's more likely than you think

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ironstrange1991 · 4 months

Text

Forbidden (Part 7): That Was A First

+18 Smut

Pairing: Doctor!Strange x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: The night with Stephen at the Sanctum Sanctorum takes a somewhat interesting turn

Word Count: 5,6k

Warnings: Dry humping, cuming in pants (and panties)

A/N: This was such a fun to write and I really hope you guys like it. It isn't much but be patient with our reader, she is learning ;)

SERIES MASTERLIST

Ultraviolet played softly through the TV speakers as you and Stephen were sprawled out on the couch in the living room of the Sanctum Sanctorum.

The night that seemed to be a real failure, took a completely different turn when he rescued you from one of the terrible parties at Mike's house and now you were lost between kisses, confessions and giggles.

"So..." He pressed when he noticed that you were too quiet while listening to the song.

You smile broadly. "It's hard to be impartial in my analysis when you said you think of me when you listen to this song."

He chuckled, placing a small kiss on your cheek and moving his lips down your chin and then back up, practically nuzzling his face onto yours. The touch of the goatee making your body tingle. He bit your earlobe and whispered to the lyrics of the song to tease you.

"Baby, baby, baby, light my way."

His baritone was so sexy in that context that it made your entire body shake.

"Okay, I think I like it... very much." You responded, cupping his face and pulling him back to your lips. Again and again. You just knew that you would never be tired of kissing those lips.

He hummed with satisfaction, his arms that were around your waist pulled you closer and you fit your leg between his, easily getting used to that new proximity.

When you broke the kiss you found yourself tracing the small bruises on his face. You didn't like that, it was inconceivable for you that someone or something would want to hurt such a pretty face.

"Are you going to tell me how you got hurt?"

He sighed. "I had a meeting with two former Kamar Tag students who ended up taking the wrong path and they didn’t make things easy for me. My mission was to bring them back or..."

He didn't finish the sentence, but you understood. You weren't naive, Stephen's job was to protect the world, but not all people could be saved, especially not when they became a danger to other people. Tony had already explained that to you.

"Maybe it's better if I don't talk about my work..." Stephen started to say, but you interrupted him.

"No, please. You can tell me anything. I'm not a child, Stephen. I understand how the world works.

He smiled and closed his eyes when he felt your fingers on his face again.

"I just hate seeing you hurt. Especially those cheekbones." You placed a small kiss on his wound and watched as he moved his fingers in a complicated gesture and a golden light emanated from them. He brought the light to his face and like magic the bruises closed and then disappeared as if they had never been there.

"Better now?" He smiled widely, probably noticing your surprised and delighted expression.

"This was so incredible!" You gasped.

"You haven't seen anything yet, sweetheart." He giggled holding your face in both hands and kissing your lips softly.

"Then show me. I want to see you do magic."

"I prefer the term spells." He corrected you and you rolled your eyes.

"It's the same thing."

"We'll have plenty of time for that. I promise. And eventually I can use a spell or two on you." He teased, pulling you back to his lips and you surrendered with a hum, letting him control the kiss.

You couldn’t tell if he was serious or not, but a part of you liked the idea. Dating a sorcerer was pretty sexy, actually.

Stephen pushed his hips against you so you could feel his hard on and although it was all new, you didn't flinch this time, on the contrary, you let out a little moan in his lips that made him tangle his fingers in your hair and deepen the kiss, turning it into a clash of angry tongues and teeth.

He was the one who pulled away gently and then admitted it, "Fuck, sweetheart, look what you do to me." Then he grabbed your hand and brought it to his hip. You palmed his erection, slightly surprised at how massively large he seemed even confined within those tight jeans.

He sighed satisfied with the touch, staring at you as if he wanted to analyze your reaction.

You opened your mouth and closed it again, biting the inside of your cheek instead of saying what was on your mind.

"What is it?" He asked and you hid your face in the crook of his neck inhaling deeply, delighting in his scent.

"No no, sweetheart, let's make a deal. From now on you're going to tell me whatever's on your mind. Okay? You can trust me."

"I don't know..."

"Y/n...please."

You groaned in surrender. "I was just going to say that you just feel so..."

"Big?" He teased with a cocky smile.

You nodded, hiding your face in him again. "I mean, how is this supposed to fit..."

"It won't be a problem, love, you were made to take me inside you. You'll see."

Stephen couldn't believe you were there in his arms after he spent so long pining over you believing he could never have you. It was even more unbelievable when he realized that he would be your first. There were so many things he wanted to show you, so many ways to achieve pleasure. He was dying to finally have you, but he was mature enough to understand that he would have to have a little patience. He would have to take it slow, testing the water and seeing how far you would let him go.

Stephen had been without sex for almost six months and it was making it harder for him to hold himself together, being there alone with you in his arms and although he was mature enough to control himself, a part of him was willing to tease you a little and that was precisely what he did when he grabbed the fabric of your dress and lifted it up a little revealing your thighs to him.

"You know, America bought a certain magazine and I ended up seeing some pretty compromising photos of you."

You smiled proudly, but didn't say anything.

"Imagine my surprise when I discovered that you have a tattoo here." He said, finally laying eyes on the intricate bouquet of flowers that you had tattooed on your right thigh and that outlined it getting dangerously close to your crotch. He traced the outlines of the design with his trembling fingers, moving up your dress enough to get a peek at your panties. They were pink and lacy, and his cock pulsed inside his pants.

"Did you like it?" You asked innocently and Stephen swallowed thickly.

"Oh, I loved it." He responded mischievously and then turned his attention back to the actual drawing. "But I'm curious, why tattoo here?"

"Looks good in a bikini." You responded with a playful smile on your lips.

"Hum, I guess I need to see that."

"You'll have to take me to the beach."

"Oh, it's definitely in my plans now."

You smiled broadly already contemplating the idea of seeing Stephen in trunks.

"So, you liked the photos?"

"I loved them, sweetheart, but I don't like the idea of other men looking at you.

"Hum, jealous?"

He smirked. "Perhaps a bit, but I definitely loved the photos."

You hummed happily watching him trace the flower petals gently with his fingers.

"Does it hurt?" He asked, genuinely curious. Stephen never thought about getting tattooed. Not because of the pain, he was used to feeling pain, but because he didn't think it suited him. It was totally the opposite with you. He loved each one of your tattoos.

"Tattooing?"

"Yeah."

You thought for a second as if you were choosing the best way to explain.

"It hurts a little, not a lot. But it depends on the place too. This one was pretty painful. But I have a good resistance to tattoo pain. It's quite different with piercings, though."

"I heard that some people even like the pain." He pointed out and you grimaced.

"Definitely not me. I am a crybaby when it comes to pain."

He smirked, pulling down your dress again and covering the tattoo completely. "I'll be very gentle, then."

You felt your cheeks getting hot again. He was so cocky and sweet and dirty all at the same time. He was passionate and you couldn't resist him, you could feel yourself literally melting for him, totally aware of the wetness in your panties and you had never felt that way for any man.

Suddenly you felt a little bold.

"There's one you haven't seen yet." You told him knowing it would make him interested and at the same time trying to hide how much his comment messed with you. "No one has seen it yet."

He smirked kissing you "I'm afraid to ask where it is, sweetheart."

You chuckled, turning onto your stomach and crossing your feet, swaying your legs cutely in the air.

"Why don't you search for it, then?" You suggested giving him a sweet wink.

He chuckled in disbelief but gave in to curiosity and sat down.

"Is not here." He said tickling your feet and making you giggle. His hands ran down your legs and you closed your eyes feeling the heat and gentle tremor of his hands running up your thighs.

"It's not on your legs, nor on your thighs. Perhaps..."

You bit your bottom lip when his hands went under your dress. That was without a doubt the most erotic thing you had ever done. - Forget the shitty handjob.

"Can I?" Stephen asked, a little unsure of what he was doing, but when you hummed positively, he felt impelled to continue. He lifted the delicate fabric of your dress and was treated to the sight of your cute little round ass adorned by the lace of your pink panties. Your skin was so delicate that all Stephen could think about was how beautiful it would look with his red handprint on it. But instead, he caressed your cheeks, feeling his cock throbbing again in his pants.

"Definitely not here."

He continued lifting the dress until he finally found it, in your lower back, above the waistband of your panties. Just one word written in delicate cursive: sweetheart.

Stephen couldn't contain the little groan that escaped his lips. He was speechless, one part of his brain went into short circuit and the other was trying to understand if that was on purpose or not, but you answered his silent question almost immediately.

"I made it after the night you called me like this for the first time. I didn't tell anyone and I know it was a bad idea, but I like it. I like it even more now."

Stephen traced the letters with his fingers and without holding back he leaned to kiss the tattoo lingeringly, watching your skin prickle with the touch and to his surprise you pressed your thighs together and moaned. An unmistakable sweet little moan.

Stephen was determined to play nice, but you had just made everything very difficult for him. He could barely think straight. All his blood seemed to immediately descend into his dick.

"You always wanted to be my sweetheart, didn't you?" His voice sounded almost shaky coming from behind you and you couldn't deny the truth in his words.

"Yes."

Stephen moved his lips up your back, biting your skin over the thin fabric of your dress. He was practically on top of you and even though he was holding most of his weight in his arms, you could feel it and it felt so good.

When he brushed aside your hair and ran his lips down the back of your neck, your entire body trembled and you gasped, delighting in the feeling of his beard on your skin.

"Feels good, uh?" He teased and you responded with a shaky uhum.

He chuckled, pleased to see your reaction to his touch, and brought his lips to your ear. He licked and nibbled it and then spoke in his baritone voice. "I'm not going to take your virginity tonight, but that doesn't mean we can't play a little."

You barely realized you were holding your breath until it escaped your mouth in slow puffs.

He pressed his hard on against you, grinding himself in your ass and it felt so good. For the first time in your life, you craved the intrusion. You wanted him inside you.

"That is if you want it, of course." He whispered in your other ear, nibbling on your earlobe. "I'm not going to do anything you don't want me to, Y/n. Never. But you'll have to tell me."

You hummed trying to find your voice. "I want to."

"Good girl." He cooed letting out a satisfied hum and got off of you and laid down by your side again.

"Then lay down here on top of me." He instructed cupping your cheek and kissing you softly.

Your cheeks were hot, but your entire body was hot now. The arousal between your legs so obvious that even you could smell it.

You moved to do as he asked, but he corrected you. “Hike up your dress.”

You overcame your shyness and knelt down next to him and did as he asked, but before you could straddle him, he flicked his fingers and his jeans and shirt were replaced by a pair of sweatpants and a tee.

"How did you do that?" You gasped.

"Lots of practice." He responded grabbing your hand and pulling you on top of him.

"I like your panties. Does the bra match them?"

You just nodded, unable to say anything.

"Hum, would you let me see it?" He asked, lifting his hips up to make you feel his erection on your core. The sensation made his entire body shake.

"I don't know, Stephen. What if someone shows up and sees us?"

He shook his head confidently, "Wong and America will be spending the night at the Kamar Taj. They're most likely sleeping right now."

You thought for a moment and then confirmed with him "We are not having sex tonight."

Stephen shook his head and smirked watching you take off your dress and throw it on the floor and then he devoured you with his eyes. All matching in pink lace, all for him. Your breasts were small, but they were beautiful. His cock pulsed beneath you.

"There are many ways to have sex, sweetheart and not all of them involve penetration. I'll show you."

He held your waist with one hand and the other he took between you and grabbed his cock through the fabric of his pants positioning it the way he wanted and then he opened his arms for you. "Come here."

You surrendered to his request and let yourself be enveloped by his strong arms. Your legs on either side of his waist, straddling him and when you dropped the weight of your body on top of him, the contact of his erection on your covered core made you both gasp at the sensation.

You could feel how hard he was and he could feel the moisture seeping through the fabric of your panties and making him wet.

Stephen was so proud to be responsible for making you wet like that. All the surprise and sudden fear of discovering that you were a virgin was replaced by satisfaction and uncontrollable desire. Knowing you were so innocent sparked something in him and only his conscience was holding him back. However, he felt his control slipping away with each passing second.

He cupped your cheeks with both hands and kissed you hard and then moved his lips down your chin, nibbling lightly until he reached your neck. He kissed, bit and sucked the skin pulling a hum from your throat and without you realizing you started to grind yourself in his erection and Stephen felt as if an electric current had passed through his body.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Stephen teased moving his hands to your ass cheeks and forcing you back and forth and without any shame he moaned.

"Shit, it definitely feels good for me."

You couldn't believe what you were doing. Your cheeks were so hot they felt like they were on fire, your entire body was shaking and you couldn't respond because you seemed to have lost the ability to speak.

Still, your body seemed to have a mind of its own and before you knew it you were moving alone on top of him, completely surrendered to the desire that took over you.

"Oh my god, Stephen... what are we doing?"

He smirked and bit your chin "We are having fun, sweetheart. Tell me, does it feel good?"

You moaned, increasing the pace of your hips on top of him, his hard cock providing you with delicious friction on your covered clit.

You cupped his face between your hands and pulled him for a desperate kiss, your tongue entered his mouth and clashed with his in a battle of pure lust. Stephen hummed in your mouth, positively surprised by your change in behavior resulting from your arousal state.

"Feels so good... Oh Stephen..." You whimpered, letting yourself be carried away by the moment and he wrapped his arms around your waist, keeping you impossibly close to him.

"You can hide your face in me if it helps you feel more comfortable." He said. "Just keep moving, sweetheart. Don't stop."

You did exactly as he suggested, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, letting your body guide you through all the sensations, inhaling Stephen's scent into your lungs and feeling the familiar knot tightening in your stomach. It was embarrassing, but your walls clenched around nothing.

"Stephen..."

His name. Stephen lost count of how many times he found himself fantasizing about you moaning his name like that. It was so beautiful. The sweet noises you made were so beautiful.

He hummed thrusting up to increase the sensation and you could feel his dick throbbing beneath you and somehow you knew he was as close as you were.

"It's okay, sweetheart, don't hold back, let go for me. Pretend you're alone in your room doing whatever you do when you think of me." He whispered in your ear.

Stephen knew you were holding back, shyness getting in your way, preventing you from reaching your sweet release, but when you followed his advice, he felt your movements getting faster, your sweet pussy rubbing against his dick faster and harder and so quickly he understood that you had finished, he also felt himself cumming.

Your heart was pounding in your ears. Your eyes were closed, but you could see flashes of light in the darkness as your entire body seemed to convulse on top of Stephen's. You moaned loudly and your moan was followed by Stephen's groan and you felt his body trembling beneath yours and then a strange wetness wetted between your legs. It took you a few seconds to understand what it was and when you did you felt your entire face burning. You thought it was ridiculous that you were still capable of blushing after what you had done, but Stephen thought it was adorable.

He stroked your hair and you finally found the courage to look at him and when you did there was a wide smile on his lips and his eyes had a sparkle that you had never seen before. He caressed your cheeks and before saying anything, he gently pulled you to his lips and kissed you softly. When he broke the kiss you opened your mouth, but closed it again not knowing what to say and ended up nuzzling your face in his. Like a cat. You just wanted to be so fucking close to him. Never ever to be apart again.

"You okay?" He asked, sounding just as unsure as you were. Your entire body was shaking, but you nodded and he held you in his arms.

"Sweetheart, you can talk to me."

You cleared your throat. "I don't know what to say. I've never done this before. I don't know what people talk about after they do it."

Stephen smiled. "We can talk about anything. You can start by telling me what's on your mind right now." He suggested.

"I love you." You ran to say before you lost your courage and Stephen smiled again. A smile you hadn't seen before. A little surprised, a little incredulous, but extremely satisfied.

"It's what's on my mind right now, but at the same time it feels like it's all over my body. I've never felt like this before."

"It's your hormones. Oxytocin to be precise. I’m feeling it too. It's always special when you do it with someone you love. And we barely did anything, sweetheart."

You cupped his face "Do you? Love me?"

He sighed, holding your chin between his index finger and thumb. "Yes I do. I've fought my feelings for so long, Y/n. You have no idea how good it feels to finally be able to feel them."

You nodded. "Actually I do. I loved you from the first moment I saw you and I waited five years for Tony to bring you back to me. Still, I never thought I could have you. I thought I would always have to love you from afar."

Stephen held your face between his shaking hands. "I'm here now. We're together, sweetheart."

You felt your eyes getting wet with tears, so many feelings building up in your chest, your stomach was feeling weird, but you fought against it, afraid that Stephen might find it childish to see you crying.

"I still can't believe what we just did." You said hiding your face in him.

"Hey, none of that! No more shyness. I want you to tell me, did you like it? Because, I think it was pretty obvious that I liked it."

You gave a small giggle. You were well aware of the mess between your legs. "I liked it. It was really good. I've never... well, you know."

"What?" He insisted.

"I've never cum with someone before. It's always been a solo experience."

He smirked, "I don't know if we can classify it as solo if I was on your mind the whole time." He teased.

He was so cocky, even at that moment. But you liked it.

"I never thought it could be done like this." You confessed and Stephen chuckled, stroking your back absently.

"Men can be creative when they want to have sex. And there are many ways to do it. I'll show you. To be honest, I'm pretty excited about the idea of being your first. Being the one who will show you all the good stuff."

You smiled to yourself, feeling your body slowly relax. Your heartbeat returning to normal.

"I thought if you knew I was a virgin, you would get scared and run away."

He shook his head. "I was scared, really, but I didn't think about running away from you. Quite the opposite."

You smiled and pulled him back to your lips and Stephen sighed contently, feeling all his worries melt away as he realized that you were okay with what you’ve done.

He knew he hadn't planned it, but in his defense, seeing that tattoo on you did things to him.

Either way he was more than pleased with the way the night turned out. There were definitely a few months of pent-up sexual frustration inside him and his hands helped to a certain extent, but he needed something more. And as much as dry humping seemed like a teenager thing to him, he couldn't deny that he loved the experience. However, the resulting mess left him feeling wet and sticky and definitely in need of a shower.

He caressed your face gently.

"I need to clean up now, sweetheart. I made quite a mess in my pants."

You agreed, dismounting and sat down next to him, looking a little unsure of what to do next.

Stephen stood up and allowed himself to actually look at you dressed only in a set of pink lingerie, your panties wet with your fluids and his. Your hair was all messed up, your lips were swollen from all the kisses and the skin around your mouth was burned by his beard. You looked beautiful and most importantly, you were his. He was still trying to get used to the idea.

He reached out to you. "Come on. I'll give you a change of clean clothes. You can't keep those dirty panties."

You looked at him a little shyly, but you let yourself be pulled. Stephen grabbed your dress and the two of you slowly walked up the stairs.

Stephen's room was bigger than the room you slept in the night he saved you at the night club. His bed was huge, a four poster bed.

You barely noticed that you had stopped in the middle of the room to stare at the bed or that he had left you to your thoughts and walked away when he returned with a tee and a boxer brief and handed them to you.

"You can use the bathroom. Make yourself at home. I'm going to take a shower in the next room. I'll be back in a minute."

You nodded, watching him grab a change of clothes and leave the room.

Stephen didn't know what to expect from the rest of the night, but it was already after 3 am when he went down to the Sanctum lounge to turn off the TV, which was now playing some random music that he didn't recognize. He picked up the bottle of wine and the glasses and took them to the kitchen and then picked up your jacket and boots and went back to his room.

You were sitting in one of the armchairs next to the fireplace. His tee was big enough to cover your thighs and you had braided your hair now. The little makeup you were wearing seemed to disappear. He had never seen you so natural, so simple and yet so beautiful. Stephen was still reluctant to understand how you could bewitch him like that. He never felt that way about any woman.

"I used your toothbrush. I hope you don't mind." You informed with a shy smile.

"Not at all." He responded closing the bedroom door and placing your boots on the floor next to the bed and hanging your jacket on the free armchair next to you.

"I don't know what I should do now. Should I leave?" You said being one hundred percent sincere. You had never had that level of intimacy with anyone, you didn't know how things worked and looking at Stephen dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt was giving you an air of domesticity that was achingly passionate and inviting.

Stephen shook his head, "No. I mean, I can take you home if you want. In fact, I can open a portal to your room right now, but... I don't want you to leave."

You smiled shaking your head "I don't want to go either. I don't want to be away from you."

He reached out to you, "Then stay with me. Tomorrow morning I'll take you to your room, if you want."

You pretended to think for a moment, but the truth was that you agreed to the idea immediately.

"Don't think too much. We did nothing wrong." Stephen reaffirmed. "It was actually really good and you are still a virgin as I promised." He smirked. "Spend the night with me. I won't try anything else, I promise."

You sighed, holding his hand and letting yourself be dragged to the bed.

"Smart girls would say it's not smart to go to bed with the guy you like on the first date." You teased as you crawled under the comforter and made yourself comfortable on the pillows. Stephen's scent was permeating them and that was definitely your favorite scent now.

"Practically speaking, we can't even say this was a date. At least not a traditional one." He responded and to your surprise he took off his shirt before lying down next to you and you had to swallow your saliva when you saw him half naked for the first time.

"We… drank wine and danced... It's...very traditional for me." You struggled to finish the thought. Of course you knew that Stephen had a well-defined physique. Just by looking at him you could already deduce that, and you could also feel his muscles under his shirt, but actually seeing them was something else entirely. You were practically drooling and you doubted he didn't notice the way you were devouring him with your eyes, but he didn't say anything, just crawled under the comforter with you. You felt your body becoming tense at the new situation, but Stephen had a way of making everything better just by smiling at you.

"Remember I mentioned before about using a spell or two on you?" He said touching your neck. "I guess I'll have to do it now if we don't want Pepper to see this."

You touched the spot where he was touching and your skin felt slightly sore.

"Did you leave a hickey on me?" You asked incredulously. You had just brushed your teeth in front of the mirror. How did you not see that?

He smirked, "In my defense, you didn't make things easy for me when you made me feel so good."

You chuckled, "So now it's my fault?"

"For being cute and delicious? Yes."

Before you could think of how to respond to that, he moved his fingers and orange light emanated from his hand.

You flinched a little. "Will it hurt?" You asked and he shook his head.

"No, but you will feel a strange sensation. May I?"

You nodded and he brought his hand closer, letting his magic touch you. It was warm and ticklish, but it wasn't a bad feeling. In fact, you even liked it.

"And it's done." He reported and just as it came, the orange light disappeared.

"This is super cool." You said "Can you show me more?"

He smiled. Sometimes you reminded him of America. So young and excited about everything. But Stephen shook his head, dismissing the thought and berating himself. He definitely needed to stop comparing you to America now.

"I will, but not tonight. I think you've had too many new experiences for one night."

You sighed in frustration, rolling your eyes. "Now you're talking like you're my dad."

"Well, I'm old enough to be, aren't I?"

"Okay. Whatever."

You lifted your head and adjusted the pillows trying to get comfortable. Stephen adjusted himself, turning to his side and took your hand in his, your fingers intertwining.

"We need to talk about something important." He said, blue eyes fixed on you.

"What?"

"Birth control. I assume you're not on anything."

"I didn't need to be...until now."

Stephen nodded, reaching his other hand to touch your cheek. "It's okay. You're right. You had no reason to use anything if you weren't sexually active, but now we need to think about it and I don't want you to think for even a second that you need to figure it all out on your own."

You nodded. "You're a doctor. You can prescribe something for me."

He smirked. "For your head, certainly. Or if you're having some trouble with your nerves. I'm a neurosurgeon, sweetheart. But what I can actually do is refer an old co-worker to you. She works in a hospital not too far from here. You can talk to her and choose the best method for you."

You nodded and Stephen leaned to kiss your lips softly and then sighed. "And I'm going to get tested for STDs. Even though it's been almost six months since I've had sex, I want to be sure."

You looked at him, looking surprised.

"What is it?"

But you just shook your head and bit your bottom lip.

"Tell me."

"It's just... being who you are and because of your appearance... I didn't think you'd go this long without..."

He nodded. "All my sexual relations over the last few years have been one-night stands, sweetheart. And to be quite honest, being in love with you, no woman has seemed like a good enough substitute."

"That's sweet." You smiled realizing you were tracing his goatee with your index finger and giving a long yawn.

"I like your goatee. I think I have a thing for men with nice facial hair"

Stephen kissed your hand sweetly and caressed your cheek.

"And I love you." He completed. "But I'll let you sleep now, sweetheart. We can talk more in the morning."

"Hum, okay. Good night." You answered with your eyes already closed.

"Good night."

Reblog please! Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! I will love to read all of your comments and opinions. It inspires me to keep writing ;)

DOCTOR STRANGE MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

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cupidsanne · 6 months

Text

Only For You ✢ Mike Faist Imagine

Mike Faist x Female Insert! Reader

SYNOPSIS! ✦ The night of your wedding, mike has a meaningful surprise for you. <3

WARNINGS! ✦ No warnings, so sweet it may be corny, sfw!

NOTES! ✦ sorry this took so long to get done! I’ve been busy, and not proof read oops!!

Mike Faist Masterlist .

You stumbled into the suite with Mike hot on your tail. Your cheeks hurting from all the smiling and laughter that you had from earlier. The both of you high off of positive energy from the reception. Alcohol and cake buzzing in your system.

You flopped yourself onto the bed with a laugh, nothing was particularly funny, but you were filled with so much joy. Marrying your best friend, your family and his showing their love, amazing food, and your dream wedding, it couldn’t be anymore perfect. You would definitely count this as the best day of your life.

Mike flopped down alongside of you, basking in the comfort of the bed and of your presence. A smile spread wide on your face before he spoke.

“What’re you smiling for?” He asked, not aware a smile was creeping on his face as well. You leaned over a bit on top of him.

“I’m smiling about how comfortable this bed is— not the fact that I just got married and had the time of my life!” You retorted. “I can’t believe you’re asking me that right now.”

“I know, I know,” Mike chuckled. “I’m just teasing. We’re married now, you’d think you’d be used to this.”

“I’m used to it alright.” You smiled while giving him an eye roll.

“What we’re you thinking about as you were walking down the aisle? Be honest.” Mike changed the subject. He was staring up at you dreamily, but his tone was a bit more serious.

You rested your head on your hand while looking down towards him. You thought back to the hours previously from the wedding and trying to remember what was going through your mind. It took a second to think from the alcohol in your body, as well as the sight of Mike looking so handsome near you.

“I won’t lie, I was tearful a bit.” You answered.

“I noticed.” Mike added.

“Not out of sadness though, but I was definitely overwhelmed. I was really happy, and anxious, but mostly happy.”

His face fell into concern. “Why were you anxious?”

“I don’t know…” You expressed sheepishly. “Maybe that’d you say no? I think I was just fearing for the worst at any moment, cause anything could happen.”

“That’s understandable, but I wouldn’t have said no. Especially if I’m the one who proposed.” Mike insisted.

“It can happen…! Yet I’m glad it didn’t. It was just my mind trying to stress me out.” You assured him. “Plus, I wouldn’t have let you say no anyways. I would’ve chased you cause you’re my boo!” You smiled while playfully caressing his cheek. Mike grumbled and moved his face away from you.

“Don’t call me that! That nickname is corny.” He ordered. You ignored his complaints and kept teasing him.

“Sorry… boo!” You egged on before laughing at yourself. Mike found it funny how you could always find yourself so amusing from the simplest things.

Mike laughed a bit alongside you. “You play too much, and you think my teasing is bad.”

“This is why we’re a perfect match.” You grinned.

“I guess you’re right.” He expressed happily.

As he was talking you started glancing down more to his lips, no matter how dim the room was, the color of his lips still radiated a pink tone. Maybe it was the alcohol, but has his lips always looked so warm?

“Oh, I have a surprise for you.” Mike realized and began to lean up away from the bed. A slight feeling of disappointment washed upon you since you wanted to just lie there and look at him all day.

“Surprise?” You said curiously.

“Yup. Let me go get it.”

He swiftly got up from his spot and went to a different room. You rose up from your spot.

“You didn’t have to get me anything!” You called out. “You know I don’t like surprises.”

“I know, but you’ll like this one.” He answered from the hall. You shook your head with a smile and sat patiently. You weren’t going to put up a fight, how could you deny anything from him?

A few moments later, he walked back into the room with a beautiful crafted acoustic guitar. He sat on the ottoman across the bed. You gasped pleasantly.

“What is this?” You inquired with an amused smile.

“I know I sing on the occasion, but hardly ever do I sing for you.” Mike said bashfully while tuning the guitar. “So I decided to do a little something, last minute.”

You didn’t know if you wanted to smack his shoulder at the “sing on the occasion” remark, because Mike has been on broadway more than once or if you wanted to jump on him at the sweet thought. You couldn’t do anything but to beam brightly.

The guitar was gorgeous. It had a simple look, but it looked very pristine in his hands. It was cream colored, with the sides sleek in brown to compliment the look. You couldn’t look closely at the guitar, but the strings looked to have a gold tint.

“Mike…” You smiled. Even though he didn’t even start performing yet, you were already impressed and swooned with him. “You’re too sweet.”

“Only for you.” Mike replied. You knew he was just fibbing, he was sweet to anyone who passed him. You weren’t going to rebuttal his statement though. You could only reply with a smile, cheeks becoming sore from all the joy in your face. He didn’t need a verbal response though, and began to look down to the guitar, strumming the beginning chords.

#mike faist x female reader #mike faist x you #mike faist headcanons #mike faist x reader #mike faist imagine #mike faist fanfiction #mike faist #mike faist x wife reader

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sadesluvr · 15 days

Text

Parting Gift

You love Mike, but he's jaded.

Mike Schmidt x GN! Reader

A/N: Something for my FNAF fans! I’ve been watching too much HBO and wanted to write angst, so this fic features a realistic Mike Schmidt. This features hints of Vanessa x Mike, but also his emotional problems in general. We love him, but I don’t think its controversial to say that being in a relationship with him would be difficult...

Please read my other Mike works if this isn’t your kind of thing!

Set post movie.

Word count: 1.6K

Tags: ANGST / SMUT / Gender Neutral Reader / Reader is human as has weird emotions / Breakups / Hints of jealousy + rage / Hints of fluff / Bittersweet stuff, really

You never went inside.

As a detective, you weren’t oblivious to the irony of it all. You’d been to hospitals thousands of times; speaking to suspects, injured colleagues or even to address the dreaded ‘call’, and yet the thought of watching Mike and Abby leave handmade cards at Vanessa “Shelly’s” bedside made you violently ill.

You knew everything that had gone down at the defunct Freddy Fazbear’s, and it had plagued you to no end. Though Abby and Mike’s relationship had certainly turned for the better, you were angry, frustrated at the fact that he’d been hurt, not only from being physically punted across the room, but the fact he’d had to stare his brother’s killer in the eye, virtually powerless to it all. Even more so, you were pissed that Vanessa had become a factor in your lives.

You’d only been dating Mike for just under a year, meeting him in a rather cliched manner at a donut stand in the mall. An exchange of numbers turned into casual check-ins, which soon evolved into a relationship – or at least parts of one. It was no secret that Mike was guarded; letting you in, but not too close enough to get overly attached. At first, it felt like you were made for each other – you felt a similar way about you line of work, and how you operated with people because of it – but closer towards those crucial few months of the new year it had begun to grow tedious.

You weren’t expecting a whirlwind, all-consuming romance, but it certainly wasn’t supposed to feel like this; with days of missed calls, unexplained outbursts and erectile dysfunction making being with him feel like a chore. Some days, you wondered why you’d even bothered asking for his number. Most days, you wondered why he’d responded at all.

Deep down, you knew none of this was his fault. He'd been fighting to survive since he was a teenager, and it was only inevitable that he’d develop issues. Being a detective meant you were all the more receptive to them, understanding the nuances of why people became the way that they were, and it was painfully clear to you why Mike had changed since the incident.

He and Vanessa were both conjoined, victims of William Afton in their own ways, yet both bound by blood. You’d been there when he’d stopped on the way home to visit her, listening from the outside as you supervised Abby. Why couldn’t you all go in? It wasn’t as if it were a particularly gory scene; it merely looked like she was sleeping. Why had he made you all wait?

“Vanessa, I don’t know if… you can hear any of this, but, um… I’m having a hard time just processing everything that happened.

But you were there for me and Abby when it mattered the most.

And I don’t think that either of us would be here today if it weren’t for you.

So… So get better. And we’ll be here when you wake up.”

The words were as clear as day. Hadn’t you been there for them? Tried to give Abby a sense of a stable life? Tried to help with bills? Offering to send him to counselling? Why had it taken a near fatal murder attempt for Mike to wake up?

Now, with all the fallout, you were all left with far more questions than answers…and this time you didn’t have the energy to try and solve them.

“Abby’s sleeping,” you announced, poking your head through the door. Mike was rummaging around his room, trying to prepare himself for work in the morning – a menial task for some, but strangely methodical to him in the moment. He didn’t answer.

“Abby’s sleeping,” you repeated, and he perked up, a flustered smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Oh...” he said, clearing his throat. “Thanks. I guess I lost track of time…”

“Yeah.” you mumbled, leaning against the doorframe, clearly waiting for something…you just didn’t know what.

“Thanks —“ he said after a moment of silence, his soft brown eyes gazing into your own. You could see him nervously gnawing on the inside of of his cheek. “—For helping. I really do appreciate it. I’m not trying to seem like a douche, there’s just been a lot on my mind recently.”

“I’m not surprised,” you hummed, strolling into the room. “But it’s been bugging you for a while now. Don’t you want to…you know…talk to someone?”

Mike paused and cocked his head.

“Like a therapist?”

“That would be a good option,” you hummed, trying not to dance around the subject. “Or you can speak to me. I won’t even psychoanalyse you, I could just listen, y’know?”

He bit his lip again, this time glancing down at the floor before back at you. You couldn’t quite make out what he was thinking, but he was certainly showing signs of restraint. Restraint. It seemed to be the defining word in your relationship.

“…I don’t think you’d understand.”

“Oh, but Vanessa would, right?”

He flinched at your raised voice, and glanced nervously down the hall.

“That’s not what I meant —“

“Then what do you mean, Mike?” you huffed, crossing your arms. “You met her a month ago, whilst I’ve known you for a year! You’ve never once given me as much grace as you have her. Ever!”

“I had a lot on my plate, okay? It wasn’t easy.”

“I know that! But I was there for you. I watched you pick up those prescriptions, I tried to be a role model to Abby, to help take the load off all those payments, and I got nothing!” you yelled. “I wasn’t asking for a mile, but you didn’t even give me an inch.”

Mike didn’t respond, instead he ran a hand through his hair, pushing the stray strands away from his face before he rubbed his eyes.

“How is it that you can mend every relationship you have except the one you willingly chose to be in?” You said, voice wavering as you watched him sink into the bed. It was his natural response; life was crushing and had done so many times, but his lack of fight was extremely telling. He could stand off with a serial killer and haunted animatronics, but not muster a few words to reassure his partner?

He was just too complicated for you to understand.

“I’m sorry…” he mumbled, shaking his head absentmindedly before looking up at you. “Maybe I didn’t think this through…”

You knew what that meant, and even though you’d been anticipating it – even manifesting it yourself – it didn’t make the blow any easier. Sighing, you steadied your week knees by sitting on the bed next to Mike, grasping at the bedsheets as you stared blankly around the room. For once, it felt like you were both in the same page.

“I love you,” he said, breaking the tension. You glanced at him, taking in the fact that his eyes were welling with tears and jaw clenched, and you could tell that he meant it. “I really did, y’know? I tried.”

You nodded, rubbing at your cheeks anxiously before kissing him. His lips were slightly chapped, but you didn’t mind, losing yourself in the way he drew you into his body with you hands, clinging onto you as he made a desperate plea to attempt to reach out to you for a final time.

Before you knew it, you back was against the mattress, and Mike was on-top of you, hurriedly pulling down his sweatpants before doing the same to you. As your lower torso lay exposed, he pressed a kiss to your stomach, making his way around your belly button and down towards your privates. Shutting your eyes, you wondered what your relationship could’ve been if every time felt like this; electric and passionate…with intent.

Once he’d slipped his boxers to the side, you gave his erect cock a few languid strokes before inserting him into you, letting out a broken moan as he adjusted to being inside of you. Mike’s eyes fluttered shut as he sighed, and you remembered just how beautiful he looked in his (rare) moments of bliss.

He stabilised himself on his forearms as he watched you, rolling his hips as he explored your hole, searching for that all-important sweet spot. The room may have been dimly lit; the darkness of night encroaching upon the walls, but he could see you all too clearly. It pained him that he hadn’t before – no, he had, but he didn’t know how to express it – and wondered just how much different things would’ve been had he not met Vanessa, hell, had he not attacked that man that fateful day. He knew some things had changed for the better, some for the worst, and some that only time would tell – and he had a sneaking suspicion that you fell into the latter.

His mind was hell, but it felt like heaven to be inside you.

Leaning down, he placed a sloppy kiss to your lips before moving to your neck, groaning as you ran your fingers through his hair and whispered sweet nothings into his ear.

“Mike...” you moaned. “You’re so good to me...”

‘For me’ was left unuttered.

“Please...” you begged; your words almost inaudible over the creaking of his bedframe, and his heavy thighs slapping against your own as he rutted into you. “Cum for me. I need it...”

Mike nodded, damp strands of his fringe glued to his forehead as he pushed into you a final time, his legs trembling as he came. It was unfathomable that in the heat of his pleasure – the best orgasm you’d had together – he wanted to cry. Breathlessly, you held him as he rode off his high, so tightly that you thought you might’ve pierced his skin, before you spoke your final words into the night.

“I love you too...” you whispered. “I’m sorry...for everything.”

You were gone before sunrise.

#florence writes!!#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt x gn!reader #gender neutral fanfic #gender neutral reader #fnaf x reader #fnaf angst #mike schmidt x reader angst #mike schmidt x male reader #fnaf x gn! reader #angst imagines

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love-kurdt · 4 months

Text

This is Me Trying (byler): 3

word count: 6,996

warnings for this chapter: none really, ngl. just very honest and open conversation. but same as all the other warnings in previous chapters, just be cautious if you see anything that may trigger you. this is semi-autobiographical so pls be kind <3

in short: if you are emotionally or mentally vulnerable, please dni.

The world buzzed with static around him, each second feeling like an eternity. Time stood still, just like the day Mike took off his watch. His hands were shaking, the anticipation inside him about to explode like fireworks. He balled his hands up into fists and put them in his sweatshirt pockets, but immediately pulled them back out because he could feel his palms getting sweaty.

Mike glanced around, and saw the nextdoor neighbor taking her dog out for a walk. He raised his hand in an awkward greeting, and she smiled back at him. He watched her run further and further away until they were out of his line of sight; a minute had definitely passed by now. He turned his attention back to the door, and lifted his hand again, going to knock one last time.

But then, before he was able to, Will opened the door.

Mike froze, his hand still in the air. He lowered his arm slowly, and took a mental photograph of Will’s awestricken face before he was met with a faceful of door. He should have seen that coming. He leaned his head against the door, exhaling with a shaky breath. “Will… I know I’m the last person you want to see. I just…” he hesitated, digging his nails into his palms. This was likely going to be his first of many fumbles. “This is going fucking splendidly already, Jesus Christ.”

There was no response on Will’s end, but Mike figured he might as well get everything off his chest, even if Will wasn’t there to hear it. Saying it out loud could probably suffice. “Uh… I guess I should start by saying I’m sorry. For everything. For hurting you with my words, with my actions, for being so fucking reckless with my life. I’ve accumulated a lot of regrets over the past few years, but…” here goes nothing, “loving you will never be one of them.”

Mike closed his eyes with his head still on the door, but jumped back a bit in surprise when he felt a light thump right next to his face. “... Will?”

“I’m listening.”

The faint sound of Will’s voice was music to Mike’s ears; low and velvety, with a hint of rasp. His stomach nervously flipped as he cleared his throat, continuing on. “I’ve been a mess without you. I don’t know who I am without you. This is me trying to say…” Mike trailed off. What was he trying to say? How could he reduce his love for Will into a single sentence? How could he explain himself in a concise, yet bold form that wouldn’t scare Will away? He couldn’t. He was doomed regardless of how the conversation would unfold. He asked Will the first thing that came to mind: “... You ever been to a college party?”

“Yeah, a few.” Will replied.

“Well, I just failed out of school because I went to way too many of them. I just drove here directly from my last one, actually.” He tried to add a bit of humor to his voice, but it ended up coming out sounding pathetically broken. Fumble number two. Fuck it all. Everything was going down in flames. Mike set his hand on the door, caressing the painted surface as if it were Will’s face.

“But here’s the thing— it’s hard to be at a party when you feel like an open wound. You’re all I think about, and it’s like I can’t… I can’t let go. It’s hard to be anywhere these days when all I want is you. And even though you don’t love me, and even if we can never be friends again, I need that closure, Will, and I need you to understand that I won’t move on if that never happens.” Mike felt the doorknob click below, and he lifted his head up just as the door opened again. Will emerged, tears lining his cheeks. Motherfucking fumble number three. When Will and Mike were little, they functioned as a unit. When Will was happy, Mike was happy. When Will would cry, Mike would cry with him. Now, Mike felt like he was five years old again, getting choked up at the sight of Will crying, and mentally cursed himself. “Fuck, now I’ve made you cry for the umpteenth time in our lives. What else is new?”

Will crossed his arms across his chest, and looked down towards the ground, still on the defensive. But his voice betrayed him when he said, “No, please don't worry about me. It’s fine. And I…” his voice wobbled, “I’m sorry for slamming the door. I was just so…”

Mike nodded in sorrowful understanding. “Yeah.”

He took a good look at Will, noticing how Will’s hair had finally grown out of the bowl cut, falling into his eyes in loose copper waves, ending just above his strong jaw. His eyes, even obscured with tears, looked green as ever. Mike wanted to drown in them.

“You changed your hair,” Mike heard himself say. Will let out a small smile at that, brushing some of his bangs out of his eyes, along with some tears that had attached themselves to his eyelashes.

“Yeah, the bowl was kind of… archaic.” Both of them began awkwardly laughing while still crying. Mike had to refrain from thinking too much, because if he did, he’d get all sentimental about how this was the first time he’d laughed with Will in… he couldn’t even remember.

“You like it, though?” he asked. He still sought his approval, after everything. Of course Mike liked it. Mike liked Will’s hair no matter how it was cut. But this style that Will was sporting currently had Mike falling flat on his face; and not literally, for once.

“Yeah, it really suits you,” he told Will, who was flattered at the compliment.

“Thank you. I mean, Mom’s skill set with scissors was… limited, but she tried.” Mike thought of that one time he’d walked into the Byers household unannounced back in junior year of high school. Will was sitting on a chair in the middle of the kitchen with a literal bowl on his head as Joyce shuffled around her son with a pair of kitchen shears. Joyce was an incredible mom who loved both of her boys unconditionally. Which reminded Mike…

“How’d you get my number?”

“Your mom gave it to me over Christmas break.”

“She shouldn’t have done that.”

“I’m sorry for letting her give me your number,” he apologized, picking at the nails of his index fingers with his thumbs. “And I’m sorry for calling you on your birthday. I should’ve respected your space.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Will replied quickly, eyes wide. “I was being a total asshole that day. I know this doesn’t excuse what I said to you, but I’ll have you know I’d just failed an English test–”

“Did you not read the material?” Mike smirked, and Will smiled back up at him, their eyes fully meeting for the first time.

“You know me too well,” he said, and Mike’s heart skipped a beat. “But then, when I thought my day couldn’t get any worse, my boyfriend at the time broke up with me.”

Mike gawked at that, his eyes narrowing. “On your birthday? That’s ass.”

Will leaned against the doorframe. “Mike Wheeler, everyone: ex-English major, literary nerd, and author.” Mike ignored the not-so-subtle roasts in favor of Will’s muscles, which were even more defined than he remembered. Will had obviously become well-acquainted with the gym. His gaze trailed along the divots of his biceps, and his mouth went dry when he realized that Will was wearing… the blue sweatshirt Mike had sworn had gone missing during senior year.

“But yeah,” Will continued, “leave it to Matt Winters to ruin the one day of the year where I don’t feel like shit. So when you called, I’d just gotten back home. And I felt so guilty for snapping at you and hanging up that I didn’t call you back after the fact, because I was afraid you’d be mad at me.”

“Are you kidding? I could never be mad at you. Ever,” Mike emphasized. “And we both know I’m not a good person when I hold grudges.”

Will’s strong eyebrows furrowed, and Mike feared he’d said something wrong, but Will rose up onto his tiptoes, lifting his hand up to Mike’s forehead in mock-concern. “Mike, are you okay? Do you need medical assistance?” Yes. If Will was going to act all flirty and cute and tiptoe-y and forehead touch-y, then they’d need to call an ambulance. Because Mike was down bad.

“Haha. You’re funny,” Mike deadpanned at the joke, despite himself.

Will retreated back to his spot in the doorway. “But seriously, I just told you that I have a real live ex, and you’re not mad?” How could Mike be mad at Will for that? Why would Mike be mad at Will for that? It wasn’t like Mike had any right or say as to who Will dated, and if Mike did so much as judge Will for any romance-related decisions, he’d be the biggest fucking hypocrite to ever walk the earth. He figured he’d come clean to Will about this one. It was the whole reason why he was here, after all.

“Will, I hooked up with four guys…” Should he say this next part? Sure, okay, whatever– “And all of them had the initials ‘WB’.” Mike’s focus shifted down to his shoes, too humiliated to see Will’s reaction. But he didn’t even have to see it, because Will giggled. Like, high pitched and adorably. Mike’s head snapped up and Will, having gotten caught laughing at Mike’s biggest shame, slapped his own hand to his mouth in a failed attempt to stifle it.

“No way,” Will said, his voice still suppressed with his hand.

“Way,” Mike quipped back. He decided to try something new then, reaching up to Will’s wrist and pulling his hand away from his face. His beautiful lips were curved into a shy smile.

Will shook his head, crossing his arms again, but not in hostility like he had before. “I don’t believe you.” And all of a sudden, it was August 1989, and they were back in Mike’s basement again. Those were Will’s last words to Mike before he’d stormed out, never to be seen again. And a year and a half later, Will became thoroughly aware of the aftermath, where Mike tried and failed to fill the Will-less void with–

“Wyatt Bowman, Wes Butler, Walker Brooks, Warren Blakeley,” he listed off what he’d endearingly dubbed The WBs™, but now in retrospect viewed as fucking pathetic, and watched as Will exhaled sadly. He tacked the only thing he could think of onto the end of his list to lighten the mood: “... And there was a guy named Elvis.”

Will snorted. “Like Presley?”

“Exactly.”

“Jesus,” Will whispered, running a hand through his hair. Mike wished it was his hand instead. As he took in Will’s jarred reaction, his world went cold. It made more sense when Mike shivered, looked up, and felt a few snowflakes land on his eyelids. He lowered his gaze back to Will, avoiding the impending guilt with lighthearted bluntness.

“Yeah,” he concluded unceremoniously, “so, you have an ex-boyfriend, and I have a disturbingly high body count. I think that makes us even.” Will’s lips formed a line, and Mike diverted his eyes back to the ground. He watched Will’s feet, clad in fuzzy socks and slippers, shift backwards. The moment was finally here; this was the end. They were not, in fact, even; Will was shutting him out for the last time, giving Mike the closure he’d practically begged for. Mike lifted his head so he could at least say goodbye properly, but saw that Will was… waiting for him?

“Wanna come inside?” he asked, and Mike raised his eyebrows in shock. Well, that was a plot twist if he’d ever seen one. He took a deep breath, muttering a slow “Yeah… sure,” and followed Will into his house. Mike took off his mud-caked shoes at the front door, remembering how much of a neat freak Will was, and imagining his reaction if he tracked the past seven or so hours into the house. He expected it would probably begin with “Michael James.”

Once situated, he took a look around the living room. There were multiple swirly, wooden furniture pieces that Mike knew Will wouldn’t have picked out in a million years, but he’d still managed to make the apartment his own. Framed movie posters, a black couch, and a few bookshelves were sprinkled modestly amongst the otherwise very feminine decor. Mike walked over to the bookshelves, which were fully stacked with comic books and picture frames. He peered at one of Will posed with Ivy and Hannah, who gripped onto either side of a metal pole that Will had perched atop his shoulders as he lifted them in a white muscle tank top. He knew he’d started working out. God, Will was attractive. He smiled to himself, moving on to look at the next photo. It was the exact same one Mike had on his desk, the photo that Jonathan took of Mike on Will’s handlebars. Mike felt like crying again, so he looked away before that could happen. His attention was drawn to the ceiling, which was lined with Christmas lights. He guessed the passage of time had thankfully worked in Will’s favor, as well.

“So Kate’s at work?” Mike asked, and Will whipped around from where he’d been organizing one of his other bookshelves, like he cared about what Mike thought in regard to his preference of alphabetical versus publisher order.

“How do you know about Kate?”

Mike hesitated, expression sheepish, “I… I ran into your friends Ivy and Hannah on campus. They’re how I found you.”

Will blanched. “Oh God. What did they say to you?”

Mike shook his head in reassurance, taking a step towards Will. “Nothing out of the ordinary. I think they were just worried about me, because I was… kind of lost.”

“You didn’t think to get a map?” Will, the little shit, teased as he took a step of his own towards Mike.

“I had one, Will!” Mike tossed a hand up in exasperation. “I just… couldn’t read it correctly?” He phrased the last part of his sentence more like a question, which Will must have thought was funny, because he moved a few inches closer to Mike in order to poke his chest.

“Okay, that tracks,” he grinned, and Mike feigned offense as he felt Will’s fingerprint burn a hole in his sweatshirt, the fire expanding to scorch his entire torso. Will was close enough that Mike could hear Will breathing lightly through his nose, and could see the freckles scattered like constellations across his neck. His eyes traveled up a bit to land on the one mole above Will’s lip, and he fought the urge to kiss it.

“Ivy and Hannah said to tell you they said you’re welcome, by the way, whatever that means,” he breathed, and Will processed what Mike had just told him before bringing his hands up to his own face as he turned beet-red.

“Of course they did.”

Mike observed Will’s reaction, pushing down the bit of hope that bubbled up inside of him. He hadn’t a single clue of what Will had told his two friends, but the way he reacted made him think that maybe it wasn’t all terrible.

“Wait,” Will brought a hand up to lightly smack his forehead, “I’m so stupid, I should have asked when you first came in.” You’re not stupid at all, if anything I’m stupid, but go on, Mike thought. “Do you need anything to drink or eat? You look like shit.”

“Wow,” Mike said as he glared back at Will, giving away his joking nature with a small lift of his lips. “But sure, water is fine, thank you.” Will stood there for a moment in contemplation. Mike gulped, feeling incredibly anxious as to what Will would say next.

“I’m gonna make you pancakes,” he told Mike, ambition in his tone. Mike wasn’t even supposed to be there, yet there Will was, taking on the role of hospitable host. Mike shrugged, leaving the option up to Will as to if he really wanted to be that kind to him.

“You don’t have to.”

Will was the one who shortened the distance between them this time, taking Mike’s much larger hand in his own, intertwining their fingers and gently rubbing his thumb along the back of it. “But I want to.” Mike felt lightheaded.

“Well, I didn’t say it.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Mike glanced down at their connected hands as Will spoke again, but he didn’t hear what he was saying. He blinked, pulling his attention back up to Will’s face. How was he supposed to concentrate on what Will was saying when their palms were brushing together with intentionality? And of Will’s own volition, no less.

“Wait, sorry, what?”

“I said, I’ll have some too, if it’ll make you feel better.”

Well, now Mike had to say yes. He gave in, and Will nodded in approval before letting go of Mike’s hand. Those few sweet seconds would have been enough to last Mike for another year and a half without him, but now Will was making him pancakes. There was no turning back after this. Will headed to the kitchen, turning back when he noticed Mike standing in the middle of the room and gesturing for Mike to follow him, chuckling to himself.

Damn Will for being so aware of the effect he had on Mike.

They made it into the kitchen, and Will headed to the pantry while Mike hopped up on the counter like when they were kids. Old habits die hard. Will eyed him from where he stood, grabbing the box of Bisquick. He ritualistically walked around the kitchen, grabbing eggs, milk, vegetable oil, and a bowl before setting them all down on the counter. He paused in what he was doing to reach over to his coffee pot, pouring a mug, grabbing the sugar bowl and dumping whatever was left into the mug before handing it to Mike, who took it with gracious hands. He’d remembered the way Mike took his coffee. Black, no cream, and a diabetes-level fuck ton of sugar.

“Thank you.” That didn’t even begin to cover how Mike felt about it.

Will hummed in response as he got to work, cracking an egg into the bowl and whisking it around. “So what have you been up to? I mean, besides hooking up with the entire male population of Indianapolis and failing out of school,” Will asked, and Mike died a little on the inside. The truth hurts sometimes, Wheeler. Deal with it.

“Jeez, Will. Harsh. Warn a guy next time,” Mike frowned, sipping his coffee. “I’ve been working on a novel.”

“Ooh, do tell!” Will exclaimed, turning to Mike as he stirred the batter, the sweatshirt he wore— Mike’s sweatshirt— stretching as his muscles flexed underneath the fabric of the sleeves. Mike set his coffee down next to him and shifted so his hands were squished under his thighs. That way he wouldn’t be able to do what he truly wanted to, which was to grab Will by his waist and shove his tongue down his throat as he ran his fingertips over Will’s arms.

“Um, it’s a mythological coming of age, with a bit of a twist… the protagonist is gay.”

“Ohhh my god,” Will grinned, all teeth. “That is great. I love that.”

I love you, Mike thought, but held his tongue. “Right? But yeah, I’ve been working on that, and… journaling. A lot.” Well… journaling was a synonym of writing dozens upon dozens of love letters, right? But Will didn’t have to know that.

“Mike Wheeler using a therapist-approved coping mechanism? I’m proud of you,” Will said. Mike preened at the praise as he pulled one of his hands out from under his leg to pick up his mug.

There was a beat of silence, and Will stood there, his eyes fixed on Mike for a strangely long time as the pancakes sizzled. Mike watched Will’s Adam’s apple bob up and down. He was either hallucinating, tripping, or Will was checking Mike out.

“But what about you?” Mike asked, effectively snapping Will out of his trance, “Any groundbreaking endeavors I should be caught up on?”

Will shrugged as he plated the perfectly congruent, golden pancakes he’d made. “I’ve been working on this new painting for a while now… it’s a watercolor piece, so it’s kind of out of my comfort zone,” Will explained, turning to the refrigerator to grab a bottle of Canadian maple syrup. Mike nodded at what Will was telling him, but something else dwelled in the forefront of his mind.

“Yeah, you’re more into oils on canvas, right?” Mike asked, and Will’s eyes snapped up to meet his, establishing an understanding between the two of them. “I saw the painting,” Mike remarked slowly, trying his best not to freak Will out or make him feel ashamed of it. “I’ve gotta say, you flatter me, Byers. I am not that attractive.”

Will couldn’t hide his smile. “Shut up. Yes you are.”

Will handed Mike a plate, and Mike thanked him as they dug in, the two young men standing at (and sitting on) the counter as they ate. Mike cut into his pancakes, stabbing a bite-sized piece with his fork and swirling it around in the syrup on his plate. He looked up when he heard a similar scratching noise and saw Will doing the same thing. Will met Mike’s gaze, light smile gracing his face as he lifted the fork up and popped the piece into his mouth. Mike blushed when he realized he’d been staring, and quickly focused back on his own plate. He chewed the piece of pancake he’d cut and confirmed to himself only after one bite that these were the best pancakes he’d ever had. These were pancakes of reconciliation.

He turned towards Will to compliment his culinary skills, which would inevitably be shot down with a humble, “they’re just pancakes, Mike,” only to see Will staring at Mike already. Will’s eyes jumped from Mike to the floor to the kitchen cabinet to the floor and back to Mike all within the span of five seconds. Mike held his attention this time when he licked his lips, and Will watched intently as the syrup disappeared.

God, Mike felt like he was in high school all over again; those four years had felt like a romcom movie montage of staring, quick touches, and flirting back and forth. The only difference between those movies and real life was the reserved, cautious nature behind every single stare, touch, and flirtation. But this time around, Mike noticed, Will seemed more confident in himself, more purposeful in the way he carried and expressed himself. Everything lingered for longer than normal, than acceptable, than usual. It was a promising sign.

Once they’d finished their pancakes and put their dishes in the sink, Mike and Will headed to Will’s room. There was something intimate about entering Will’s space like this; something sacred, something previously unattainable. That was the dresser that held all of Will’s clothes. That was the desk Will drew at. That was the bed Will slept in. That was the phone Will had used to break Mike’s heart.

Mike admired the dark blue walls, decorated modestly with a few more posters, before he came across Will’s framed Hawkins High School diploma. Mike remembered that day vividly; after everyone in the Party had walked across the stage and gone back to Mike’s house to celebrate, Will had brought their friends into a secluded area of the house and told them he was gay. Mike, who had been head over heels in love with his best friend for over five years at that point, was having a crisis, because oh my God, Will was gay, and the flirting might not have all been in his head. Maybe he had a chance. But every interaction between them following that day was strictly platonic, and Will made sure Mike knew it. So Mike withdrew after a while, not wanting to keep stringing himself along like he had been.

“Little did I know that everything would change,” Mike said more to himself than to Will, but Will walked over to stand next to him, close enough that their arms brushed.

“Why, because I came out?” he asked, looking up at Mike, who didn’t reciprocate the action, but instead kept staring straight ahead at the diploma, as if it were a portal that would take him back in time to before his world imploded.

“No, not because you came out. Because… because then, I fell under the delusion that I could finally have you.” He looked down at Will then. “But then I fucked it all up in August.”

Will turned his body so he could fully face Mike before saying, “Okay, I’m confused. I’ve gotta ask. What’s your recollection of that night?”

Mike didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want to remember it. Hell, he didn’t want to think about it. But Mike took a second to reason with himself, because Will was standing beside him, Will was asking something of him, and the least he could do after everything was oblige to Will’s one request. So Mike told him.

It was the summer of 1989, and all was well. Hawkins was no longer nationally renowned as an extra-terrestrial hybrid between earth and hell, but simply as a small town in the middle of nowhere, Indiana. It was the summer of 1989, and Mike was lying on the basement couch with his legs hanging off the edge. His eyes were closed, and he wore his headphones which were attached to his Walkman, playing Will’s mixtape on repeat, just as Mike had from the second it fell into his hands back in 1986. He felt the thumps of the opening and closing of the basement door, followed by light footsteps treading down the stairs. He cracked a singular eye open, but opened them both fully when he registered that it was Will who was entering his space. He always loved when Will came to his house unannounced; there was a certain element of familiarity, of family, of domesticity.

“Mike, we’ve gotta talk,” Will said, his voice a bit edgier than usual.

“Okay, what’s up? Are you–” Mike sat up, pulling his headphones fully off his head and resting them around his neck. Then he saw the look on Will’s face. He looked livid.

“What the fuck are these?” Will spat. Mike’s eyes widened at what Will held in his hands. Fuck. How on earth did he find them? Mike thought he’d hidden them well enough. Apparently, he was sorely mistaken, because Will held Mike’s letters, all twenty-six of them, all addressed to Will, in his shaking hands. Mike couldn’t even begin to explain, mouth hanging wide open.

“Dear Will,” the boy with the bowlcut began with a snarl, “when I look into your eyes, I see the rest of my life. Dear Will, why does loving you feel so wrong yet so right? Dear Will, I want you to hold me in your arms forever, because it’s the only place I can truly call home.” Mike wanted to die. “I don’t know what to… Why the hell are these addressed to me? And why… Why are there so many?”

“Because…” Mike squeaked out, eyes wide with intimidation, “they were for you. You were never meant to find those, I swear to God.”

“Are you making fun of me or something?” Will snapped, and Mike flinched. He’d never seen Will this angry before. He stood up then, his face on fire with inferiority from when he’d been on the couch as Will towered over him. Now, Mike was the one looking down at Will, whose chest was heaving with unadulterated rage.

“Come on, Will! I’m your best friend, and you really thought I’d make fun of you for being gay?” Mike kept his tone soft, what the Party called his Will Voice™, trying to calm Will down. It worked, at least a little bit, because Will’s breathing became more regulated, and less metaphorical smoke escaped his ears. But his eyes were still a menacing shade of green, his pupils blown wide.

“Well, no,” Will’s voice was lower this time, laced with venom, “but that does not mean you get to fuck around at my expense.” Will could not have been more wrong. Mike was anything but fucking around. Malice was the last thing on his mind when he thought about Will. When he thought about Will, he felt safe, he felt hopeful, he felt valuable, and he felt worthy. What he felt for Will was pure love, and he’d say it out loud… if he didn’t hate himself so much.

“I poured my heart out in those letters,” Mike told him, taking a step forward. Will stepped back. “I didn’t write them for shits and fucking giggles, they were genuine,” he continued, following Will as he backed away, stopping only when he had Will caged in between his arms, back against the wall of the basement. Will held onto Mike’s wrist, their watches positioned side by side. Mike closed his eyes and took a shaky breath, collecting himself in preparation for what he was about to say next. Confession time. “I wanted to send them so badly… I just didn’t, because I was afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

Mike opened his eyes, drinking in the expression on Will’s flustered face. He blinked slowly, lashes fluttering, and fuck, he could hear Will’s heartbeat. He licked his lips. Afraid of what? I’m afraid of the world. I’m afraid of our country. I’m afraid of this town. I’m afraid of my family. I’m afraid of your dad. I’m afraid of myself. But I’m not afraid of you, Will. I’m not afraid of you.

And with that, Mike leaned down and kissed Will.

Those were the best five seconds of Mike’s life, by far. Will’s lips were smooth, yet firm. They were warm. Mike wanted to kiss Will forever. He allowed himself, for once in his life, to take what he wanted, and moved his hands down from the wall to Will’s hips, gripping them with all of his pent-up passion, holding him close. He felt Will’s hands meet Mike’s shoulders, and… he was pushing Mike away. Oh no.

“What are you doing, Mike? Is this a joke?” What was it with Will thinking everything was so fucking funny to Mike? He’d just bared his soul to the love of his life, but Will had interpreted everything as simply cruel humor. That was what Will thought of Mike. He wouldn’t stand for it.

“No, Will, I’m in love with you,” he said in full earnest, grabbing Will’s hand, just like he’d always done throughout the years whenever Will felt angry, alone, or scared. In turn, Will aggressively shook Mike’s hand away like it burned him.

“Don’t say that. Please don’t say that, you don’t mean it.” What the hell?

“What makes you think I don’t?”

“I just… you’re…” Will forced his words out in a state of panic, ducking out of Mike’s reach as he headed for the stairs. “I can’t do this. Not now.”

“Please don’t go. Hear me out,” Mike pleaded, getting desperate now. “Will, you’ve got to believe me.”

Will turned around from where he stood, halfway to the basement door, his gaze ice cold. “Well, I don’t, Mike. I don’t believe you.” Mike took back what he’d thought about not being afraid of Will. He was terrified. He watched Will stomp up the rest of the way, slamming the door behind him. Mike put a hand up to his mouth, muffling a sob.

What had he done?

Mike stopped his pacing for a moment to breathe. He’d gotten it all out, and by some miracle, without breaking down. He looked over at Will, who rested his chin on his palm as he sat on his bed, staring into space. “I never got the chance to explain myself. You just… shut off.” Will blinked a few times, looking up at Mike with that same blank expression, and Mike wanted to scream. But he didn’t. He didn’t have the energy.

Will breathed out hard through his nose, getting up from his spot on the bed and meeting Mike where he was at, and placing a hand on his arm. Mike didn’t move; all this talk about Will abandoning him caused some of the resentment to return. But Will took Mike’s chin and moved it so their eyes could meet again. He looked sad.

“Because I had convinced myself that you could never love me the way I loved you. But all of a sudden you were telling me that you loved me romantically and wanted to be with me forever! How can you blame me for being thrown off?”

Mike shrugged, resigned. “I can’t.” And he meant it; he couldn’t blame Will for being thrown off, because Mike had gone through the complete opposite, having felt led on and let down. “But you also can’t blame me for waiting so long to say something. I literally hated myself for years for being gay.” Will’s hand that held his chin lowered down to the space between his neck and his shoulder, and he went to reply, but Mike spoke faster. “And when you came out, I thought maybe I could, too. But then, another part of me didn’t want to say anything, because coming clean about my true feelings for you would’ve destroyed everything we worked so hard to build back up after California.”

“Well, I didn’t make it any easier by keeping you at arm’s length after I came out,” Will said as he ran his thumb back and forth along Mike’s sweatshirt sleeve. “I tried to convince myself I was okay with being just friends in order to protect myself, you know?”

“Yeah,” Mike’s tone was rough as he crossed his arms, and Will pulled away. Nice going, Mike, you fucking asshole. “I mean…” Mike softened his voice, “I get your thought process. I just felt so… rejected. And after August, it felt so final. Like, I really thought you had zero feelings for me, and that I had severely misread things.”

“You didn’t. Believe me, Mike. You didn’t,” the words tumbled out of Will’s mouth, startling both of them at once.

Mike looked down, feeling the beginnings of tears pricking his eyes. “I’m trying to.”

Will reached out to Mike and pulled his hand up into his own, his fingertips gently mapping out the veins that spread out beneath Mike’s skin. “Do you still hate yourself now?” he asked, and Mike looked up slowly.

“I’m not gonna lie, yeah, I do,” he admitted, playing with Will’s fingers as he spoke. He was not proud of the person he’d become. He relived every single one of his mistakes on a constant loop, with each day bleeding into the next. The shame devoured him like a hungry beast. Every waking moment without Will felt like suffocation. Mike slowed his movements before confessing something else, something he never thought he’d ever be able to. “But I hate living my life without you even more.”

Will let out a small sniffle at that, and Mike was quick to comfort him, his hands flying up to cup his face and swipe his tears away. Will leaned into the touch, his voice breaking. “I hate living my life without you, too.”

“Can I…” Mike hesitated, uncertainty flooding his thoughts, but he swiftly pushed it away. “Can I hug you?” he asked. Will nodded, laughing wetly as he said, “Yes, of course.”

Mike pulled Will into a tight embrace, warmth filling his body instantly as Will’s head fell against his chest, right over his heart. He could only imagine what Will was thinking, granted the fact that his heart was thrumming at record speed. Will ran his hands up Mike’s back, pulling him down slightly by his shoulderblades. Mike nestled his nose in Will’s shaggy hair, breathing him in. He still washed his hair with the coconut shampoo he’d always used. In order to avoid the temptation to inhale Will’s scalp like a vacuum, he opted to place a feather light kiss there, so light that in the future, only he would remember it happening. As they stood there, their bodies flush against one another, Mike knew he didn’t need a watch to tell that time as an entity ceased to exist. Mike and Will held each other tightly as the rest of the world fell away. This was what Mike had been waiting for. Just this. He finally felt whole again.

He wasn’t sure how long they’d been clinging to each other, or who pulled away first, but he was sure of the fact that both of them were crying. Again. “Goddamnit,” Mike laughed, practically slapping his sweatshirt sleeve up to his face to absorb the tears that fell there.

“Since when have you been a Frequent Crier?” Will teased, and Mike remembered that Will had never been exposed to the outcome of his emotional revolution before.

“What can I say?” Mike continued the bit, “Their loyalty program has really good perks.”

“Can’t argue there,” Will laughed, leaning his forehead onto Mike’s chest again as Mike’s hands ran up and down Will’s sides. He memorized the feel of Will’s improved physique, trailing his hands upwards until his hands met Will’s chest.

“Also,” Mike said into the silence, causing Will to twitch slightly, but not enough to remove his forehead from Mike’s chest. “The Heart? Didn’t know I was still held in such high esteem.” Will’s hands, which had been resting on Mike’s hips, moved forward until they were wrapped around Mike’s lower back.

“You’ve always been my heart, Mike,” Will told him, voice steady and sure. “You never really stopped.” Mike felt his jaw drop, barely able to process what he was hearing. The words that left Will’s lips ricocheted around Mike’s brain, and he might have forgotten how to breathe for a minute. He needed Will to pinch him, so he could wake up from this… if it wasn't real, it would be a nightmare. Instead of asking Will to do it for him, he pinched himself, and felt butterflies erupt in his stomach when he didn’t snap his eyes open to the sight of his bedroom back in Indianapolis. He was still here, in Will’s room, and Will was holding him rather sensually, and Mike felt so fucking alive.

“So… where do we go from here?” Mike whispered, and Will lifted his head, an unrecognizable look in his eyes. Mike backed away, fear slowly entering the peripherals of his mind, all possible worst-case scenarios threatening to cave in on him. He’d gone too far, been too forward, taken Will for granted, given off the impression of an ulterior motive.

“Sorry,” he said, almost a reflex at this point in his life. He always had something to be sorry for. Something to make up for. Something to–

“Me too,” Will whispered, grabbing Mike’s wrist before he could get too far. He pulled Mike back in sharply and grabbed him by the back of his neck, tugging him all the way down until their lips collided. Mike let out a little noise in absolute shock, but not wasting any time as he shoved his hands into Will’s hair, raising his head as he leaned into the heat of Will’s mouth. While Mike’s hands remained pretty central to Will’s upper body, Will’s hands roved Mike everywhere they possibly could. They lifted from Mike’s lower back, up his torso, past his chest, around the back of Mike’s head to brush the nape of his neck, through Mike’s long hair, then back down to grope Mike’s ass. Mike squeaked into Will’s mouth, and he responded with a low hum of a laugh that sent vibrations through Mike’s body and set him ablaze. Mike lowered his grip on Will’s shoulders to his biceps, squeezing them the way he’d wanted to since Will opened the door earlier that morning. Will broke the kiss then, smirking up at the taller man. “You really like my arms, don’t you?”

“Yeah, how’d you notice?” Mike tried to be sarcastic, but ended up sounding breathless. Will pressed a chaste kiss to Mike’s lips, turning them around and backing Mike up until his calves hit the base of Will’s bed. Mike was sure he had died and gone to heaven.

“You wouldn’t stop ogling. You were being so fucking obvious, it was hilarious,” Will teased, and Mike whined a little in embarrassment, but Will was having none of it, so he pushed Mike backwards until his back hit the mattress. “Don’t worry, babe, it was cute.”

Babe. Mike had thought Will would only call him that in his dreams. But this wasn’t a dream. Mike watched as Will climbed on top of him, one leg on either side of his waist, and leaned down to kiss him, nice and slow. Mike ran his tongue along Will’s lower lip, and he let Mike in immediately. They continued like that for a few minutes until Will lifted Mike’s arms up so they were pinned above his head, and Mike quietly moaned as Will began to kiss down his neck. He smiled at the ceiling. Mike Wheeler loved Will Byers, and Will Byers loved Mike Wheeler. All was right with the world.

But Mike would have a lot to explain over Christmas.

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sapphic-bats · 7 months

Text

“Would you stop it?”

Will freezes, confused and shocked now, his yelling ceasing at once.

Mike shouts again. “Would you stop yelling at me? It happens so often now!”

The other boy’s anger returns in a moment. “Then maybe you should stop giving me a reason to!”

The hurt in Mike’s eyes, returning to Will’s glare, shows his knowingness enough.

“You’ve changed, Mike! You stopped caring. You stopped asking. And you never, never, used to do that! What happened?” Will’s voice quavers. “What did I do wrong?”

Mike’s eyes go wide with horror, reaching out his hands to comfort him in a touchless surrender. “Will, no, you didn’t do anything-”

“You can’t even touch me, Mike. Don’t pretend like you haven’t noticed it.” Will’s voice is much less furious, now. It’s upset. “Can’t hug me properly, can’t put a hand on my shoulder unless I’m scared. And it fucking sucks!”

Mike’s taken aback by the profanity. Will never swears.

He continues. “It sucks, because I’ve been looking for a little fucking comfort. You used to care. I care, so why can’t you? What have I done wrong?”

A sob is let out, one that makes Mike’s heart rip itself in half. “Will, please, come on, I’m sorry. I- I…”

He stands there numbly for a moment, a short one, because suddenly he’s wrapping himself around Will, holding him close. He fears what could happen, Will pushing him away and snarling disgusted words at him, a repugnant glint in his eyes.

But it doesn’t happen. So he stands there, holding him.

“All I ever wanted to do was spend my life, whatever’s left of it, with you.” He bites his bottom lip hard. “But that’s so stupid. It’s so dumb.”

Mike shakes his head. “No, no it’s not.”

“It is.” Will snivels. “It’s so idiotic that I’m crying to you like I’m fucking five again. That… that I…”

When he trails off, Mike speaks again. “I’ve spent my whole life saying that.”

Will pauses, puzzled. “What?”

“All the time, I used to- I still do act adult, like I know what’s gonna happen. What I’m doing. But there’s only a handful of things I really know.”

He continues. “I know the sky’s blue. I know my name is Mike. I know that you’ve always been my best friend.” Mike lets out a small, sad laugh. “But even those don’t stay true. The sky can go gray, my real, full name is Michael…”

He smiles, shakily and unsure. “And sometimes… sometimes I’m in love with you.”

He feels Will tense in his arms, only pulling away far enough to look him in the eyes. “Which I’m lying about right now, because I’m in love with you all of the time. Every day.” His smile’s slowly crumbling, scared and terrified and falling all at once. “But I’m so shit at showing it. I’m so bad at communicating, at showing I care.”

And that’s when he says it. “But you’re not.”

Will’s eyes widen. “I understand. I know what you’ve been saying, and I see how dumb it was that I couldn’t say it, in the quietest way, back. So, if you’re gonna be loud, and honest to me, then I’ll be loud and honest to you.”

Will’s heart skips about two beats; one for each of them. He’s breathing, and it’s so loud. It’s loud, and he knows, then. He feels. Lets himself guide without much thought at all.

He kisses Mike. And immediately, almost too quickly, Mike’s kissing back, holding him and swearing things silently that are too noisy to hear through their passionate embrace. It’s messy, but not rough, and they’re honest. They’re telling the truth, now.

They stand there like that for what feels like hours, holding and caring and showing it. Being too loud in that quiet. The first time, the first kiss, that first song that hums out in the nonexistent space between them. They can’t get close enough.

When they break for air, loud and obnoxious air that they require to live, Will says it. “I love you, too.”

And Mike laughs. “Can I get a redo?”

Will’s brows furrow at the ridiculous request. “A redo? On what?” He laughs. “You were doing so well already!”

And the other boy shakes his head, beaming. “I didn’t say it first. Like, the real thing.”

“Well, now I get the credit.”

“Fine. Sure.” But Will relents, so Mike speaks on. “I love you.”

Will grins wider. “I love you, too.” Then, after pressing a kiss to Mike’s enthused lips, he says, “Even though I said it first.”

#byler #byler ficlet #this drained twelve percent of my battery and it was worth it #stranger things #stranger things 4 #st4 #mike wheeler #will byers #pink october bones #sapphic bats #byler ao3 #Byler endgame #byler fic

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viewmasterfeeling · 2 years

Text

mike in hiding

(s4 byler scene/mike gets vecna'd)

“Hey,” Mike says, sitting next to Will on the couch in his basement. It’s funny how much things have changed, and yet here they are again.

“Hey,” Will says, shifting to face him.

Mike starts, “So, I, uh…” Will looks at him expectantly. Mike doesn’t know how to say this, but he presses forward anyway. “That thing I was going to tell El, I–” Will’s demeanor falls the slightest bit. “I told her.”

“That’s great, Mike,” he says, giving Mike an encouraging smile. “Really.” He still looks off though, and Mike can’t place why.

“Yeah, totally. And, uh… The thing is…” Will watches him, confused. “We broke up.”

Will’s eyes widen. “What?”

Mike nods. Bites his lip. He’s scared. What if Will can see right through him? It’s only a matter of time before he finds out, really. Finds out that Mike isn’t… isn’t normal.

“Uh, yeah. I guess I was right, that we, uh… We couldn’t come back. From that fight, I mean. I mean… Before, when I said that I should have told her something… I was wrong. About the thing I needed to tell her. Because I wasn’t being…” Mike shakes his head. Inhales. In his periphery he sees Will’s eyes locked on him. “I wasn’t being honest.

There’s a pause. “What do you mean?” Will asks.

Mike sighs. “It’s complicated.”

“No.”

Mike furrows his brows. “Huh?”

“No, it’s not complicated. It’s simple. I know what’s going on, Mike.” Mike stops breathing.

“Wh–What?”

“I know that your feelings aren’t right. For her. And me.” Mike’s heart drops. He can’t move, he can’t breathe. He can’t look away from Will. Will, who looks like a stranger.

How does he know!? How did he find out? Was Mike too obvious? With his… whatever the hell is going on in him right now? He… deep down, he knew this rejection was coming, but… he wasn’t ready. And even deeper down, he kind of wished that Will would be… understanding. That Will would be Will. But no, Mike is broken and everything is wrong and Will should hate him. He should. But it still hurts like hell. God, it hurts like hell. It’s always felt awful, every time Mike has lost Will, but this is the worst of them all.

And then the lights flicker. And then Will’s face is wrong. Mike staggers back, yelping in panic.

“Mike.”

Mike looks around. Who was that? Where is that voice coming from?

He stares at Will, who is staring back, only he has no eyes. Mike screams and sprints up the stairs and out of the basement.

“You’re in pain.”

Mike stands in the kitchen, looking around again, but he has no idea where that voice is coming from. No idea what the fuck is going on.

“I know you’re afraid.”

Mike jolts and sprints up the stairs to his bedroom. He slams the door and hurries to his bed and hides under the covers. He bites his lip. Please, go away. Please. Please stop this.

“Mike!”

In a flash, Mike is back in the basement, and the lights are normal, and Will is there, shaking his shoulders, a tear streaming down his face. “Mike!” Mike meets his eyes, and Will’s overcome with relief. “Mike, oh my god…”

Mike immediately pulls him into a tight hug. Will hugs back. “I’ve got you,” he says softly. Mike belatedly realizes: It wasn’t real. He didn’t say that. He doesn’t know.

And then the tears start falling.

#byler #byler fic #byler fanfiction #byler ficlet #byler fanfic #my fic #st4 spoilers #st4 #stranger things 4 #st spoilers #byler angst

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lonesome-witching · 8 months

Text

Mind Control

If I'm honest, I'm kind of excited for this one. Thank you @thepartyfriendship for this prompt. I have never written mind control before so it was a challenge, but one I really enjoyed. And the ending of this one is just amazing. I hope you like it.

You can read my old prompts or send me new ones.

Nancy was acting odd lately. Even Robin realized that, and they had only just gotten to know each other. Or maybe Robin was just seeing things. Because when she talked to Steve about it, he merely shrugged. And Jonathan didn’t seem at all bothered by the outgoing girl that had replaced his girlfriend. Maybe Mike occasionally frowned when Nancy stole money out of their mother’s wallet to buy herself beer with a fake ID, but he hadn’t commented on anything either.

So, maybe Nancy was only letting go because they had recently avoided the end of the world. Or because Max was in the hospital and Eddie was dead. Or because everything that had happened the past few years was over now that Vecna had been shot in the face.

And yet, there was still this uncomfortable feeling that crawled under Robin’s skin whenever she was in the same room as Nancy. Which was a stark contrast with the comfort that she used to feel when she was around the girl.

Robin missed those hesitant glances and the even more hesitant touches. She missed the late night phone calls that had kept her up till dawn for several weeks after spring break. She missed that soft smile that would say ‘I’m not okay either, but one day we’ll both be fine’. She missed the girl that grabbed her hand in the Upside Down. And whatever version of Nancy was now walking into the room with a wine bottle in hand and a bright smile was not that same girl.

“Who wants some?” Nancy asked, holding up the bottle.

“Please,” Steve replied from next to Robin. It was odd that that felt like a stab in the back.

“Yeah, me too,” Jonathan agreed.

“Robin?” Nancy turned her attention to the only other girl in the room. But Robin just simply shook her head. “Okay.” She rolled her eyes.

Robin sank deeper into the couch. There was something about this side of Nancy that was painful to watch. Whenever she looked at Nancy for too long it felt like standing in the Creel house, shivers running up and down her spine as the fear gripped her heart. And this time Nancy wasn’t there to hold her hand, there was no one’s hand to grab because no one seemed to understand.

She looked at Steve who was sipping his drink with a smile and then at Jonathan who put his arms around Nancy’s waist and pushed his head in the crook of her neck as she positioned herself on his lap.

Maybe Robin was just jealous that the girl she liked was in a relationship with someone else. Maybe this was just like Tammy Thompson. Maybe she was traumatized and broken and making up stuff. But maybe Nancy was suffering, and no one was listening.

Robin buried her head in her hands.

---

Nancy had been able to tear herself from her friends. Her hands were clenching around the sink. The mirror showed her own features, yet when she looked at her eyes they were glassed over. It reminded her of a few weeks ago when she had found Jonathan high in Argyle’s van.

She knew something was wrong with her when her memory started to be riddled with black spots. She couldn’t remember putting on the shirt she was wearing. She couldn’t remember pouring herself a glass of wine until she had felt the liquid in her mouth. She wasn’t sure what she had done to make Robin crawl into herself, but she vaguely remembered it being her fault.

She didn’t want to hurt Robin. She never wanted those bright blue eyes to look at her with fear.

Her hands started shaking and she gripped harder. A tear fell out of her eyes.

---

Robin let her fingers drag around the furniture in Nancy Wheeler’s bedroom. It had been awfully easy to excuse herself and sneak upstairs. She wasn’t sure why she was here or what she was looking for exactly. But she knew that sitting at the other end of the couch with Nancy’s eyes fixed on her was too hard to bear.

So, instead Robin had decided to hide out in the bedroom of the girl she couldn’t be around. It might seem like a bad idea to anyone else. But Robin found comfort in the pink walls and the ballerina jewelry box. It reminded her of a hopeful time when she believed Nancy would be her friend and before she had craved for more.

She lifted her hand off Nancy’s desk and walked towards the messy bed. It wasn’t like Nancy to leave her bed like this. Robin sighed and walked over to the nightstand. A notebook lay open and Robin peeked into it. She saw a date scrawled at the top and looked away.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew that it must be Nancy’s diary. The one Robin had seen only once before, back in the Upside Down version of this same room. A room with old wallpaper and a mirror that went to a yard sale and high heels instead of guns hidden in the closet.

The only issue was that the handwriting looked different. Robin had seen several notes in the pretty curls that Nancy’s hands were able to draw upon paper. The handwriting in the notebook looked more like Robin’s own. Messier. Almost as if it had been written in a haste.

That was why Robin looked into the book again. Her own worries had escalated. If something was wrong with Nancy it would be in this book. So, despite knowing it was wrong, she read the first lines.

Something is happening. I’m not sure what it is yet.

I can’t seem to remember my own actions. It’s as if someone else is controlling me. The last thing I remember is from a few days ago. It’s Robin’s beautiful blue eyes. They looked at me which such hurt but I don’t remember what I did or said to cause such pain.

I know I should have done something about this weeks ago when it all started. Back when my only lucid moments were when I was around Robin. I should have realized that it wasn’t normal that I only felt like myself around her. But I thought it was just new love and old trauma clouding my own memory.

Robin knew she shouldn’t, she had enough information already, but she turned the page back to a few days before the last entry. The words barely registering as she read the words Nancy used to describe her. Beautiful, pretty, gorgeous, precious, cute, handsome.

“What are you doing?” It had been a while since Nancy’s voice had sounded so much like… Nancy.

Robin turned around, still holding the book. For a moment she looked into deep blue and saw Nancy’s fear. Then the corners of Nancy’s mouth curled into a sickening smile and Robin dropped the book. The soft thump it made when it hit the ground was barely audible.

The last words she had read where still swirling around in her mind.

I’m in love with Robin.

#prompts #ronance #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #my work #stranger things #fanfic #robin x nancy #nancy x robin #ronance fic #ficlet

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starsarefire824 · 3 days

Text

moonflower ch. 6

Chapter 6: Blameworthy

A few weeks after that night on the porch, in the middle of the hottest month of summer you and El broke up. I never really got the full story from either one of you, but it wasn’t loud or tumultuous. If anything you both seemed lighter, as if your romance had puttered out instead of erupting in a firestorm like so many do.

Even still, I knew she was sad. If not sad, severely disappointed. She spent every waking hour with Max that week and slept in my bed every night, hugging the plush giraffe you won at the county fair the year before and my arm tucked protectively around her belly.

But you…You moped around most of all, seemingly lost and avoiding being alone with me for any extended period of time. It hurt my feelings, but I understood. I still understand. You two were so entangled in each other’s lives it was bound to take some getting used to. To figure out how to just be Mike and El, untethered from each other and individuals.

I never brought up that night that you touched me, never asked what it meant or why you had done it. But I thought about it constantly, couldn’t stop staring at you and your hands, and the way your mouth was red and full and the truth that was: Your lips had been on mine.

You’ve always been my torment.

But after a few weeks, the both of you came around, and that’s when Max and Lucas started planning his 18th birthday party.

It was the middle of August, just before everyone was about to slowly pack and leave for the school they had chosen. Or for those who chose Hawkins, whether by choice or by circumstance, made ready for the jobs they had lined up.

You were less evasive, and we danced silently around each other for weeks, still nothing was said. But you sat too close when we played video games, and didn’t look away when our eyes met.

There was one night we were caught alone under the streetlamp in front of your house, bugs tapping against the light and their shadows blacking out little dots on the pavement. I remember the cicadas were so loud in the trees as we set our bikes down to catch our breath after climbing the hill from Dustin’s house.

I jumped off, leaning my bike against my hip as you threw yours down in your yard and turned back to face me, chest heaving. You looked down at me, skin flush with the heat and your eyes black as the night around you. I remember you licked your bottom lip because I couldn’t stop staring at how it shined in the light.

You were so close and you reached out to me, your fingers sure, but your face suddenly terrified. My breath hitched in my throat and my heart pounded when you slid your fingers softly across my temple and tucked a wild flyaway behind my ear. I didn’t know how to be or how to act, still so completely unused to being on the other side of the line we had crossed weeks before.

I thought you might kiss me then, and Christ I wanted you too. I ached for it. My heart raced in my chest when you leaned in slightly, your eyelids growing heavy and your breath on my cheek. But then there were headlights in my eyes and I flinched. The sound of the engine made you fright, and you stepped back from me, chest heaving and scrubbing the back of your neck with anxiety. When you looked at me I knew the moment was over, but you smiled out of one side of your mouth and regarded me fondly.

#byler #i never posted this oops #stranger things #will byers #mike wheeler #justmyname #byler fanfic #byler angst #byler moodboard #moodboard #stranger things 5 #stranger things fanfiction #journal entries #will pov #moonflower

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eddiesguitarskills · 1 year

Text

When We Were Young

Part 4

Ex Eddie Munson X reader

Other parts : 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6.

Intro: 5 years have past since you packed up and left behind Hawkins. Well not all of it, as the people you met there are still a huge part of your life. But it's been 5 years since you had set a foot in the small town, 5 years since you left him.And now after all that time you were back.

Warning: angst, language, mentions of suicide, miscarriages, self harm, mental health.Arguments. Mentions of break ups. Female identity reader. Use of y/n

Bold parts are flashbacks

Word count: 3.4 k

A/n: please only read if you are in a good place, I wouldn't want this story to trigger or hurt anyone. I'm so sorry this took so long to write, I hope having some good flashbacks makes up for that.

Not Prove Read

It had been two weeks since you'd been back, with planning for the new school year, catching up with your family, seeing the Harrington's, and occasionally seeing your old friends, you hadn't had a chance to see Eddie. Not that he hadn't been consuming your thoughts, but having people around really helped that. However, your distractions were getting fewer and fewer as time went on. The younger members of your group were going back to school. Lucas went back to Kentucky last week, and Max and Will back to New York to study art two days ago. Mike and Jane went back to California yesterday. The settlement money coming to use for all the younger kids.

Dustin had left it as late as he could as he didn't want to miss a moment with you or his friends. Besides it's not like he had far to travel he went to Indiana Tech which was about an hour away from home. He was offered scholarships to ivy league schools, but he felt too guilty to take them. He worried that if he left the state something would happen and he wouldn't be there to fix it this time.

In his first year he travelled to school, but this year he was staying there. Eddie and Steve had convinced him that he needed to undergo the proper college experience and he was not going to do that in his mom's house. Especially with how anxious she was about everything he did, where he was, the fact that he couldn’t own a car despite having a driving license. Which is why he knew what they were saying was right. He needed a change, but he was also thankfully it was not too far away his anxiety couldn't survive that. He was glad he could come back whenever he needed, which might be sooner rather than later he thought as he still hadn’t spoken to Eddie since that night. He had tried many times but was met with silence. Eddie could be very dramatic so Dustin knew he would cool down eventually he just needed time. But today he had to leave he couldn’t wait for Eddie to talk to him anymore.

You turn the key walking into the Harrington’s house. You would knock but Nancy and Steve told you, this is as much your home as it is their’s so you come anytime you wanted. You did at least try to announce your arrival though as you never wanted to impose on them. Today was different as the pair knew you were coming to watch their three-year-old Rosie, while Nancy was at work and Steve took Dustin to college.

Steve was in the living room on the phone looking worried, tapping his foot rapidly, he looked up at you and slammed the phone back into the receiver. “I was trying to call you”. You look at your watch confused “am I late?” he shakes his head. “No it's just Nancy got in a car accident-”. You felt nerves fill your body, the same expression of worry on your face as his. “Is she okay?”. He nods slightly “they said it's just a slight concussion, and a few cuts but they need to keep her a few hours for observations”. As soon as you heard those words relief started to wash away the anxiety. You were still slightly upset that she was hurt but you were glad it wasn't anything serious. But you knew Steve all too well how he panicked about the people he loved, it was understandable with everything he had been through. “What are you waiting here for? Go. I've got Rosie as long as you need”. He hugs you, then grabs his jacket and keys.

You felt as if you were forgetting something like an annoying scratch you couldn't itch. Scratching away at your brain. Dustin. You almost forgot the reason you came to watch Rosie in the first place. “Should I ring Dustin and let him know?”. Steve opened the front door “no it's fine, I've already rang, Eddie is taking him”. You nod. Hoping he doesn't see you cringe at the mention of your ex’s name.

Beep. Beep. Dustin looked outside the window to see his friend. Well with how Eddie had been avoiding him he wasn't sure what their relationship was. At least now he would get a chance to talk to the headstrong man before he went to college. Eddie showed no sign that he was getting out of the car, which made Dustin worry he would have to move all of the boxes to his van by himself. He didn’t have many as he tried to keep the packing light, since it was a shared dorm room. But they were still heavy boxes, and at least five of them. Plus a suitcase. Maybe this was Eddie’s way of punishing him.

Dustin bent down to get the first box which was full of engineering books, his knees made a clicking sound on the way down. It hurt a bit but he powered through exiting the front door over to Eddie’s car. Only now the man wasn’t in the front seat he was standing by the back of the van with a cigarette in his mouth. He pulled the box from Dustin’s hand and put it in the trunk. Dustin thanked the man but he still said nothing, he just nodded to show he had heard him. Eddie walked over to Dustin’s house and started to retrieve the boxes. Keeping the cigarettes lit and in his mouth. Now and then using his hand to pull it out to tap the ash. It felt like a slap in the face for Dustin who had tried so hard to get Eddie to quit, and maybe that was why Eddie was doing it, another form of punishment. The reality was he smoking because he was stressed, and the slight burn to his throat was enough to ease the thought even for a second.

When all the bags were secured in the back of the van they set off. The tension could be cut with a knife. Eddie didn’t hate Dustin, he was just scared that he was losing him to you as well, which had no real logic behind it. In fact with how Eddie had been ignoring his friend, he was causing the problem himself. Having enough of the awkward tension Dustin decided to be the bigger person, “so how’s the bar?” Eddie nods “good”. Eddie wanted to hit himself why was he being so awkward it’s like recently he couldn’t get rid of his foul mood. Since you had come back a dark cloud had formed over his life.

He still didn’t understand if you could come back now why couldn’t you come back before? Maybe then you both could have fixed things. “We really need to get you a car, can’t have me and Harrington being your chauffeurs forever” he tries to joke but the tone of his voice doesn’t show that. Dustin agrees; thankful to hear Eddie’s voice even if he wasn’t a cheery one. It was better than the silent treatment.

Dustin was going to use this time stuck in a car with Eddie to his advantage. The worse that could happen is he wouldn’t talk to him again, with him going to college it was now or never. “About that night at Steve’s-“ Eddie turns his radio up to ignore the conversation. For years everyone had avoided talking about you, now he would have to get used to hearing your name again. However, nothing could prepare him for the hurt just a name could cause. Dustin lowered the radio “trust me I know you don’t wanna hear about her but the reality is she’s here now. So wouldn’t it be better to be able to vent or ask any questions to someone you trust?”. Dustin was always too smart for his own good, of course, what he was saying was right, not that Eddie wanted to admit that. Dustin had been the only person that had seen him break down about it and he never told anyone. I guess that’s what hurt him the most that night at Harrington’s, Dustin had seen how hurt he was about this, but from the looks of it seemed like he and you were still friends it didn’t make sense.

He banged on Dustin’s door again and again until he got an answer. The young boy answered, still in his pjs as it was three in the morning. He came to the door quickly scared someone had happened with the upside down again. What he didn’t expect to see was Eddie with bloodshot eyes, panicked. Before he had time to ask questions Eddie was speaking. “Do you know where she is?”. Shit, maybe it was the upside-down Dustin thought. “We fought, she couldn’t have just left like that, that’s not what people do. Do they?”. Dustin couldn’t understand fully what was happening but he knew it was about you, he had never seen Eddie looking like this, he looked worse than when he was accused of murder. “Eddie why don’t you come inside, we can figure this out together”. Tears started to pour from Eddie’s eyes so many that he felt like he was choking on them.

“I don’t get it” Eddie mutters under his breath if it wasn’t for the tight conforms of the van Dustin might have not heard it. “Which part?”. Eddie pulls the van to a stop at a red light and looks over at his younger friend “all of it”. There is quietness in the car. Dustin doesn’t know what to say. It wasn’t a question so he isn’t sure how to answer, or even if there was a right answer. There wasn't a book to help him explain all of this or if there was he hadn't found it yet. Eddie was sick of the silence and glad for the green light so he doesn't have to look at Dustin when he speaks. “What happened?” Dustin sighs “I didn’t expect you to come, I was trying to warn-“. Eddie grips the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turn white. “That’s not what I mean”. Dustin didn’t want to betray your trust but Eddie was his best friend so he was in an awkward situation. “I don’t know.” The man took his eyes off the road for a second to glare at his friend “bullshit”. Even with his eyes back on the road, Dustin was still scared.

He knew he had to tell the truth but even he didn’t know that. He only knew what Steve revealed while drunk one night. “She- ”, Eddie didn’t want to be lied to anymore he needed the truth, maybe it would help the nightmares. “I honestly don’t know much”. Eddie’s nostrils flared, as he sighed. “Please don’t lie to me”. Dustin couldn’t bare to look at his friend so he looked out the window “I’m not, all I know is she had… I don’t know…. A breakdown or something… it was bound to happen to one of us… you know what this place can do to you, so she ran and I don’t exactly blame her. She seems so much better… but whenever you or the upside-down or Hawkins was mentioned I could see this pain behind her eyes. I knew that look well, I’d seen it in the mirror but it seemed worse for her.”

Eddie felt like a knife had been pierced through his chest, you were suffering and he didn’t even notice. Was it after the fight? Before? Had the fight pushed you over the edge? If only you would had talked to him maybe he could have helped. Why did you have to be so difficult? Maybe he was the difficult one. Maybe if he would have talked to you more, you wouldn't have ran. For years he had convinced himself you had abandoned him, you were the bad guy but maybe it was always more complex than that.

It had been a couple of hours since you had heard from Steve, despite him saying it wasn't severe, with the lack of communication you had started to worry. You were also not sure what to tell Rosie, so you tried different ways to distract her. Watching her favourite film, the little mermaid on repeat. Have a tea party, baking and now your least favourite game question time with a 3-year-old. It was at moments like this you could tell who her mother was. She had started with the easy question favourite colour? favourite princess? The best my little pony? Who was your Favourite 3-year-old? Now she had started on the more hard-hitting questions and it's not like you could avoid answering, because she would pester you with ‘why’ until she got a response.

“Do you have a husband?” you shake your head, surprised she could say such a big word and even more surprised by the question. “no, do you think I need one?”. The little girl considered the question “ it would make you happy”. There were a lot of layers to the girl's question and even more with her response. You wanted to tell the girl you didn't need a man to be happy but she was three and obsessed with Disney princesses, you weren't sure she would understand. So you poke her sides to tickle her and tell her “I get to spend time with my favourite person, I'm very happy”. The girl pout and shakes her head. “Not like mommy and daddy”. You smile, not wanting to get into your need to be single with a child. In fact, you didn't want to admit out loud that you were scared to be in a relationship, that deep down you never got over- no you could not think that. “Well that's because mommy and daddy are like prince charming and Cinderella. I'm like the fairy godmother. The fairy godmother is happy to help others and doesn't have a husband”.

The girl crosses her arms, and pouts her lips more. She looked adorable, but she didn't look in the mood to be told that. “No you are a princess, not a fairy godmother” she stated like a fact that you should know. The truth is it had been so long since you felt special that it felt weird for someone to describe you this way. The compliment from a three-year-old meant an awful lot to you, more than you would like to admit.

A week before the events that led to Eddie being accused of murder, you had been feeling super unwell. You weren't sure what was wrong with you, maybe it had something to do with your missed period but you were too scared to find out. You were lying on Eddie's bed not wanting to move. He had assumed you were about to get your period as this is how you would usually act during that time, so he got all of your comfort snacks. You groaned when he turned on the light. “I'm sorry princess, but I brought snacks does that make up for it”. You grumble “it depends on the snack” he hands the bag over to you, which is filled with your favourites, you root through it “I guess you're forgiven”. You spot a red shiny package, you read the writing ‘ring pop’.

Pulling it out you show it to him “you better not be proposing when I feel like death” he shakes his head, “no when I propose I promise it will be the cheesy thing ever, that has ever happened. The more embarrassing for you, the better”. You fake laugh at him, but aren't able to wipe the smile off your face at the thought of your future together. “I guess it's kind of a promise that one day you will be my wife...I like the sound of that, my wife” “ he gets on the bed with you pulling you into his chest. Eddie Munson was truly the sweetest boy around. Maybe having a child would be too bad if you had him holding your hand through it.

You gesture to yourself up and down “you sure you want to make a promise that like that when I look like this?” he nudges your knee teasingly “well you know what they say for better... Or worse”. You playfully hit his arm pretending to be annoyed. “Well, now I'm definitely not sharing my snacks with you.”

You nod choosing to agree with the girl to hopefully move her on to the next question. “Why you not live here before?” oh God maybe the relationship question was better. “Because I lived in England”. The girl looks confused “why?” you smile. How could you decide anything that happened to a small child when it was confusing enough for you to understand? “Because I didn't want my aunt to be alone”. You knew what word was going to come from Rosie's mouth next “why?”

“Because- umm” you had begun to speak out of instinct but you didn't know what to say. “Mummy says you were sad. I missed you. made daddy sad, and me sad”. Don't cry. Whatever you don't cry. You are grown-up, you have to stay strong. Rosie was smart for her age but there was still a world of hurt you wanted to protect her from. You lift her onto your lap hugging her “I'm sorry, sometimes being a grown-up is hard. And we have to be a little mean to be happy”. Before she could say the same phrase you spoke again “because life isn't always far but it can be amazing when it wants to be”. The girl didn't speak again she just pondered the words not completely understanding but wanting to show she was a big enough girl to get it. You could see a frown forming on her face, so you gently rubbed it away. “Don't worry, it's confusing for grown up too”.

The front door opened bringing an end to the conversation you two were having. The girl jumped off your lap running to her parents. She cuddles Nancy’s leg. You follow behind, thankful to see your friend only with a few scratches. You hug her too, quickly and carefully to not get in the way or kick Rosie. “That’s not far you can't look that pretty after a car accident”. She pushes you away. “Ha ha very funny”. You shake your head “I'm not joking” you look down at the little girl “see I told you, your mommy was Cinderella”. Steve straightens his back and pretends to flex his muscles “does that make me prince charming?” he made it too easy sometimes. “No, that makes you the pumpkin”.

Eddie and Dustin had been stuck in the car for an hour and a half, since the unexpected reveal, they hadn't said much. Or at least Eddie hadn't heard much, all he could think about was you. Which wasn't a change as you had been all he thought about since you came back, but these thoughts came with new feelings, guilt, and confusion. They finally pulled to a stop outside the dorms. Dustin was about to get out when Eddie put his hand out to stop him. “What should I do?”. Dustin shrugs “I don't think they are any answer for that, you are two broken people. I'm not sure even one of you can fix that, but maybe being nicer would be a start”.

Eddie nods, “when did you get so smart?”. Dustin smiled, the Eddie he knew and loved was there, even if it was only briefly. “I'm surprised I haven't lost brain cells being friends with you”. The man laughed, he couldn't even pretend to care about the insult. The thing is no matter if they bicker or fight the two were brothers nothing would change that. And only now the realisation was kicking in that Eddie had been so stubborn about feeling betrayed, that he had missed the time he could have spent enjoying his best friend's last weeks in town before he moved. Of course, he wasn't far and they would still talk. But he wonders how many problems he would solve if he should stop being so stubborn, believing he was always right when he never had any of the answers.

Taglist

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@micheledawn1975

#Spotify #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #stranger things angst #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson x yn #older eddie munson #stranger things imagines #stranger things

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withacapitalp · 1 year

Text

Seventh

Read it on ao3 here!

“You wanna tell me what that was all about?” Steve asked, sliding the glass door shut and cutting off the noise from the rest of the party inside.

Erica stubbornly shook her head, crossing her arms and continuing to stare out into the wide open space of Steve’s backyard. Her jaw was clenched up so tight it hurt, and the concrete was cold against her legs. But she couldn’t move or go inside, because then she would have to face all the people she had just screamed at.

Steve sighed softly behind her, a familiar sound that Erica was almost immune to hearing. Almost. It still kind of hurt to hear that disappointment sent her way. Normally he was just mad at the boys or annoyed by whatever bullshit Max wanted to pull that day.

Today he was mad at Erica. Which was fair, seeing as she had just made a big fucking scene at his house.

“What happened?” Steve asked softly, lowering himself down onto the ground and sitting cross legged on her left side. His tone was gentle, coaxing, like Erica was a child with a fever who needed to take medicine, and not a young adult who was completely overreacting.

Not mad then. Worried.

Even worse.

Erica would have honestly preferred Steve was mad, because then they could both just blow off steam, and she wouldn’t be forced to explain the completely embarrassing reason she had just had an outburst.

“They kept saying I was Seven,” She grumbled, hating Steve for being so fucking easy to talk to and making her open up. Steve didn’t immediately respond the way the rest of them would have, and when Erica glanced over, she saw he was deep in thought, trying to work out exactly why that might have upset her.

That’s why they all liked talking to him. Steve always considered what was going on before making a snap decision.

“It was just teasing. You never let that get to you. Besides we all know you’re twelve, Erica, not seven,” Steve finally said, clearly not understanding what exactly had set her off.

He hadn’t heard the whole conversation.

“They weren’t saying I was seven years old. They were saying I’m seven.” Erica paused here, hoping she wouldn’t have to say anything else. But, when it was clear it still hadn’t clicked, she gave a short irritated sigh and continued, “As in the seventh. Your seventh kid,”

“Okay? Did you not like that they were saying that you were my kid? Cause I know we joke about me being mom a lot, but I know that you guys have actual-“

“No,” Erica cut him off, not even wanting Steve to start down that particular train. She bit her lip, closing her eyes and gathering up the courage to say what she actually needed to say.

“You wanted six. I’m the seventh.” Erica stated.

An uncomfortable and heavy silence stood in the air between them as Steve registered what had been said and put the dots together. Erica waited, staring at the trees and willing herself to stay where she was. It would be easier to just get up and bolt, but no doubt Steve would chase her down and make her listen to whatever mushy thing he was going to say.

“I’m gonna kill past me,” Steve groaned, burying his face in his hands and dragging his fingers down his cheeks, “Okay, first of all, that was something I said to Nancy in confidence, assuming there wasn’t eavesdropping,”

“Stupid thing to assume. It’s us,” Erica replied, needing to put some of her armor back on. This was already too raw for comfort.

“Second of all,” Steve pressed, ignoring her little interlude, “That daydream I had was for three boys and three girls. As far as I know I have three girls, so one of the boys is the extra. Let’s say Mike. Mike can be seventh,”

A giggle slipped out of her mouth without permission, and Erica pressed a hand against her mouth to hide her smile. Mike would be the one Steve would pick to be seventh in a lineup, just because they all knew how much it would irritate his stupid inflated ego.

“Third of all,” Steve started, trailing off. His voice was soft again, low and sweet.

It was the same voice he had when he spoke to her in the hospital after the gates closed, when she had been sitting alone in the emergency room waiting for someone to show up. Steve had taken both of Erica’s hands in his own, neither of them fully able to ignore the blood sticking to their palms, and he told her everything was going to be okay.

And everything was okay now. She was the one having a problem that wasn’t actually a problem in the first place.

“Erica, I had that daydream when I was your age. My parents had just started leaving, going on business trips for days or weeks sometime. And I, well, I was lonely,” Steve admitted. Now it was his turn to stare at the trees, a muted but deeply set pain sitting in every word.

“I told myself when I got older that I wasn’t going to do that. I came up with this whole fantasy where things were going to get better, so I could focus on that instead of how shitty things were then”

Erica wanted to respond, wanted to say something, but she couldn’t get her mouth to open. She could see a young Steve sitting right where they were now, on the concrete by the pool. That Steve didn’t have someone to come out and check on him, someone to reassure him that he was loved and cared for.

He had just had to deal with it all alone, and dream that maybe life had something better in store for him somewhere down the line.

“So, if you think about it logically, that twelve year old kid who only ever wanted a big family who loved him just as he was got exactly what he was looking for,” Steve said, scooting a bit closer and wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

Erica went easily, letting herself get wrapped up in a warm hug. Steve hugs, the best kind, cure for any and all problems. She would never say that out loud to him, she’d die of embarrassment, but thinking it was enough to make her bury her face against his chest.

“And getting to have a seventh kid that was his- a really special, really funny, kinda a smartass, but genuinely good, kid,” Steve said after a moment, pulling away just enough so that he could make sure she was looking him in the eye, “Well I think that twelve year old would know how crazy fucking lucky he was to get to love that seventh kid,”

A blooming warmth settled in Erica’s chest, slowly overtaking her body until she felt like she might be glowing. She knew that Steve loved her. That was obvious. Steve loved all of them. But knowing it and hearing it were two different things.

“Wow…..that’s a lot of nice things to say about Mike,” She said, falling back into herself and leaving the safe little cocoon they had created. She didn’t need it anymore, she had her reassurances.

“Mike?” Steve asked, not putting things together. Erica huffed out a soft laugh, grinning like the cheshire cat as she stood up and stretched.

“Yeah, Mike,” Erica replied, “Seeing as, according to you, the seventh is Mike, not me.”

A beat of silence, and then Steve was throwing himself backwards, falling flat on his back as he tossed his hands into the air

“Why do I even bother with you brats?” He groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes.

“Because you love us,” Erica shot back, still all warm and wanting to just get to hear it again, “I’m gonna go inside now, tell him you said all that nice stuff about him,”

“Don’t even think about it,” Steve said in a warning tone. Erica hummed, rocking back and forth on her heels for a second before shrugging.

“No, I’m gonna. Bye Steve!”

He was up in the blink of an eye, taking her bait and falling hook, line, and sinker. Erica ran farther into the yard, laughing with glee as he chased her around and around.

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