#i have so many thoughts about mike and i know the end this is just the most prominent one lol
Text
Written for a @astrangersummer.
You Hear That?
Week #4 Prompt: Camping | Word Count: 3850 | Rating: T | POV: Robin | Pairings: Platonic Stobin, Pre-Steddie | Characters: Robin, Steve, Eddie, Corroded Coffin, The Party, Nancy & Jonathan | CW: Language, Recreational Drug Use, Underage Drinking | Tags: S3, Reluctant Camping, Unexpected Crossing of Paths, Platonic Stobin, Corroded Coffin Boys, Pre-Steddie, Flirting
This is set during the S3 finale. Happening between Starcourt and the "three months later" time jump.
"Camping. Capital camp. Lowercase…ing," Steve says, trailing off at the end, his forehead wrinkling up in confusion as he clearly tries to think through the dumb thing he just said.
"Well, that kinda fell apart on you, didn't it, dingus?" Robin asks, arching her eyebrow in his direction.
"Shut up. You know what I mean. Camping! Fun!" Steve shouts, far too close to her face.
"Back off, Boogaloo. And I beg to differ. Camping is not fun. Camping is torture, and I'm not signing up to be tortured with you again. One and done, at least per summer, that's my official policy."
Steve gives her the eyes, but they aren't gonna work. She's immune to his wiles. The Harrington Charm doesn't do anything to her loins, unfortunately for him.
"No," she says, and that's that. End of discussion.
Three hours later, here she stands, right in the middle of Hunting & Camping, a store in town she never thought she'd ever have to step foot into.
"Steve, you know what lives in those woods. Do you have a death wish?"
"C'mon! There's been nothing, nada, since Starcourt. It's done. Over with. Gone. We can live our lives, go camping, anything we choose."
"Great. But we do not choose camping," Robin insists, "We aren't camping people, are we? There's no haircare in the woods, Steve. Think about that. Long and hard."
"Fine. You stay here. I'll go camping alone," Steve says, crossing his arms across his chest.
"You're not going camping alone!" she screeches, because he'll be killed for sure.
"You're right, I'm not. The kids are demanding to come along. So, it's me and Jonathan."
"Well, that sounds fun for the both of you. Who will come home with a black eye? History says-"
Steve interrupts, "Yeah, yeah. Exactly. So, you have to go. You and Nance. So the girls can come along. Joyce will allow El to go, but only if you ladies go, too."
"Chief Hopper will roll over in his grave if El goes camping with Mike Wheeler present. You and I both know that."
"Well, good thing he'll never know, I guess," Steve says, defiant. "C'mon, Buckley. Are you with me or not?"
She's always with him, now. That's just how it's gonna be, maybe forever. Or at least until they get eaten in the woods they have no damn business traipsing into.
"Fine, I'm with you. But mark me down as a hostage."
"Great, love to hear it," Steve says, a big smile on his face, and she reluctantly smiles back. It's contagious, even if she knows this is a terrible idea for many, many reasons.
The trek out to Skull Rock is pretty shitty, but she keeps up. Walking alongside the not so prissy Nancy Wheeler, Erica, El and Max. She should have worn better shoes. Steve should have told her to wear better shoes. Nancy is in hiking boots and Robin is not at all surprised that she's prepared for life in ways Robin will probably never be.
Up ahead, the boys are arguing, causing a ruckus, and Steve is clearly regretting this decision. Good. He should. This was a terrible idea of, like, epic proportions. Maybe worse than working in a mall with a Russian secret lair underneath it.
"How did you even get to come?" Robin asks Erica. Because she didn't expect her to be standing there on the curb with Lucas, her My Little Pony sleeping bag under her arm.
"Tina is covering for me, duh, so I can hang out with you nerds. Don't know why I even want to though," she says, snippy, and Robin grins. She's funny.
"Maybe we should have invited Tina," Robin says.
"And risk her seeing I even know you nerds? Absolutely not," Erica says, like she's totally disgusted, and Robin laughs.
"Okay, hot shot," she answers, watching as Nancy stops behind Steve and the boys, as they scout out a spot that might work.
"Here?" Jonathan asks, and Steve nods, agreeing.
Steve is finishing putting up the tents, all of them, because nobody is helping him, not even Nancy. He kind of had this coming, it was all his terrible idea.
"You hear that?" Steve asks, head turned towards the sky, like he's a damn dog.
"Hear what?" Robin asks. She doesn't hear anything. "Is it a monster? A bear? It better not be a bear, I swear-"
"It's not a bear. It's a guitar," Steve says, driving the last of the tent poles into the ground.
"A guitar? In the woods?" Who the hell would be playing a guitar in the woods. Probably some sort of demented fairy, destined to murder them all, given the opportunity.
"I hear what I hear, Buckley. I'm gonna investigate," Steve says.
"Well, it was good knowing you, Harrington," Robin answers, because everybody knows you don't go blundering into the woods, especially if it sounds like you're being lured there, for fuck's sake.
Steve would definitely be the first to die in a horror movie.
Except, she knows that's not true. He's more capable than she ever could have expected, especially for being such a big dingus.
Steve just waves her off, and starts stomping off into the underbrush. Heading towards the sound she definitely doesn't hear.
But after a little hesitation, she follows. He can't go alone. She knows what could happen if he does.
"I knew you'd come," he crows, pleased with himself.
"Shut up, dingus," she mutters, and the further they walk, the more she thinks Steve was right. There is the faint sound of a guitar.
And laughing.
Steve pushes apart the branches of a bush, just enough for them to see through it, together. Spying.
It feels familiar.
And there's the culprit, Eddie Munson from band, sitting around a fire with some other boys, playing his guitar. Jeff Williams, Jackie's older brother, is one of them, she's pretty sure.
They have a case of beer, and she's pretty certain that's the faint stench of weed hanging in the air.
"It's just Eddie Munson," Steve whispers, like she isn't aware of that.
"Yeah, I have eyes, I can see that it's Eddie and his cronies."
Steve lets the branches go, and she is sure they're gonna turn around and leave, but they aren't that lucky. Honestly, they'd have no luck at all if they didn't have bad luck.
"Hey! Who the fuck is there?" Eddie yells, the guitar playing ceasing.
Steve rolls his eyes, pushing forward, out into the open, "It's just me, Munson, cool your jets."
"What the fuck are you doing out here, Harrington?" Eddie asks, then clearly catches a glimpse of Robin, "Oh. I see."
"Ew, no, you see nothing," Robin says, feeling the urge to clear up that misunderstanding right away.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize band geek Robin Buckley was too good for King Steve Harrington."
"Way too good," she snarks, and Eddie laughs, really laughs, and Steve doesn't, but she can tell he's amused and not mad.
"If you're not out here to fuck, then what brings you two into our neck of the woods?" Eddie asks, slouching over towards them.
"Your neck of the woods? I'm the one that popularized this spot, I'll have you know," Steve snaps, bitchy, arms crossed.
Robin smiles.
"Is that so?" Eddie asks, tilting his head, offering Steve a big, predatory smile.
"Definitely sure that's so," Steve answers, not backing down.
"That's not how I've heard it," one of the other guys shouts from near the fire they've lit, and Robin isn't sure who he is.
"And you are? The forest authority?" Robin asks, challenging him.
"Yep. That's me," he snaps back, but doesn't offer up his name.
"That's just Gareth," Eddie says, "don't mind him."
Oh, no way. Gareth Jones? The goofy kid she had to deal with at her job at The Hawk last summer that drove her insane? His mother dropped him off nearly every afternoon, money in hand, and he always made a fucking mess with his popcorn and Reese's Pieces. He might be the number one reason she took the job at Scoops this summer, instead of going back to theater. Looking at him now, he's sure changed. Growth spurts are a bitch, she supposes.
"Nice hair," she snarks at him, looking at his poodle-looking head. He's clearly trying to grow it out, probably to be more like Eddie, but it just isn't there yet, and his curls definitely aren't making things easy on him.
"What are you doing out here, anyway? Dirty freak orgy?" Steve asks, and Robin doesn't know how she got so lucky to have such a bitchy boy as a best friend, but she loves her good fortune.
Eddie laughs, and she sees Steve smile at him.
"Why? You wanna join?" Eddie asks, leering, taking a lazy, sauntering step closer to Steve, assuming he'll back down. Eddie's hands are framing his belt buckle, drawing the eye, even her eye, and it's so gross but she's also very intrigued to see how this pans out.
Eddie's not gonna scare Steve with the fear of the queer, and she was right, Steve doesn't back down, like she knew he wouldn't.
"Maybe I do," Steve says, rubbing his lips together, tongue wetting them in a gross taunting way, and Robin wants to spray him with a garden hose, but doesn't have that option, so instead she just watches as Eddie's eyes flick down to Steve's slick, glossy lips.
Gross. Fuck her whole life. She takes back all the stuff about loving her good fortune. This is bad fortune. Like, empty fortune cookie levels of bad luck. Russians under the ice cream shop you work in, rotten luck. Honestly.
But Steve wins this round, because Eddie is the one that retreats, but he's laughing as he does it, waving his hand for them to follow. They're not gonna do that, right?
Wrong. Steve follows, so she trails behind.
"Gareth, you've met," Eddie says, "Jeff. Goodie. We didn't know we were encroaching on King Steve's territory, but we're just hanging out, camping, if that's alright with you two."
"I guess," Steve says, teasing, fucking flirting if she's not mistaken. Can't he ever turn it off? Ugh. "We're camping down there. With the kids I babysit. I heard your guitar, wanted to make sure you weren't straight out of Deliverance, or, like, ax murderers."
"Well, I am that, or haven't you heard?" Eddie asks, dimple showing up in the firelight. And Robin doesn't know how she's here right now. She should have stayed with Nancy and Jonathan and just let Steve be eaten by bears or monsters. Or Eddie Munson. Whatever.
"Heard what?" Steve asks.
"Hellfire Club!" Eddie shouts, waving his arms in an animated way, and Robin doesn't know what that is, and clearly Steve doesn't either.
"Sorry, man. Is that your band?" Steve asks, looking as confused as she feels.
"No, that's Corroded Coffin!" Gareth snaps, popping off, all pissy from the log he's sitting on.
"Sorry, my bad," Steve says.
"We play at The Hideout on Tuesdays," Gareth says, eyes narrowed.
"You play in a bar. You?" Robin asks, not believing a word of this. Not possible.
Gareth starts to answer, but Eddie holds up his hand and cuts him off.
"I'm channeling Satan. And I'm offended you don't know that, Harrington," Eddie says, and Steve's face is pure confusion, and Eddie laughs, taking pity on him, "It's the D&D club I run," Eddie adds, and Robin sees the light bulb pop on over Steve's head, like he's in a goddamn cartoon.
"Oh! The kids play that," Steve says.
"Do they now?" Eddie asks, not believing him, clearly.
"Unfortunately."
"And how old are these kids?" Eddie asks.
"Freshman, in the fall-" Steve says.
"Fresh blood," one of the guys says, cackling under his breath, as Steve keeps talking.
"-but I think Will is moving," Steve finishes.
"Will Byers, the zombie boy?" Eddie asks.
"Ssshh!" Steve hisses, "Don't call him that, okay?"
Eddie holds up his hands, backing off.
"Okay, okay, Harrington, don't get so worked up. I was just kidding," Eddie says, and the other boys all laugh.
"Well, it's not funny," Steve says, softly, "just. Don't. Okay?"
"Okay," Eddie concedes.
"Thank you, he's been through a lot," Steve says, looking back over his shoulder, like the kids might all be snooping right behind them. Which, fair enough. They would totally do that, given half a chance.
"Well, since you're here, you want a beer or…?"
And Steve's nodding, like an idiot.
Robin snags his arm, "Nancy will kill you."
And Eddie takes a step back, hands going up, "Well, we wouldn't want the girlfriend mad."
"She's not my girlfriend," Steve says, looking at Robin, "and Nancy can handle the kids for a bit, yeah? She's got Jonathan."
Robin is sure this is a bad idea. Nancy will be pissed about being left, and probably be pissed at Steve for having a beer or a toke, or whatever he has planned, while he's supposed to be in charge of the kids.
"You're camping with your ex-girlfriend, her new boyfriend and...Robin from band? Oh, how the mighty have fallen."
Steve doesn't take the bait, just pushes forward and sits down on the fallen log, right next to Gareth, who squawks in protest.
Eddie follows, and hands Steve a beer, and then offers one to Robin. She shakes her head no, one of them needs to keep their sanity, she thinks, and then she watches as Eddie lights up a joint. Great.
They pass it around, and she's not sure what they're doing here. These guys don't like them, and they definitely don't like these guys.
Every time Eddie came into Scoops, as soon as he was gone, Steve would say something about Eddie "The Freak" Munson. And now he's just hanging out with him, like that's a normal thing to do?
It's not a normal thing to do. Not at all.
"So, you're babysitting tonight?" Eddie asks.
"Unfortunately," Steve answers.
"Shame, I'd like to get The King all fucked up," Eddie says, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, hands cupping his face.
"Don't call me that. High school is over. Steve is fine," Steve says, and the other boys all laugh, and Eddie throws up another hand and they all stop.
Toadies. The toadiest of the toadies.
"Steve," Eddie says, and it's positively lewd.
"Thank you," Steve says, taking a long drag, holding it in his lungs, showing off, slowly killing himself in the process, she's sure of it. Idiot.
Robin shakes her head.
Then she feels something brushing her shin, and jumps, expecting a snake, or something worse, but it's just the boy she doesn't know, toeing at her with his shoe, offering her a can of Coke, cold and dripping with ice water from the cooler at his side.
She takes it, "Thanks. I'm Robin."
"Goodie," he says, like he isn't at all interested.
"Goodie?" she asks, and makes eye contact with Jeff Williams.
"It's a nickname," Jeff explains, like she might have thought otherwise?
But she just nods.
"I'm in your class," Goodie says dryly, and are they? She swore they were a year younger.
"Sorry, we must not have classes together very often, if ever," she says.
"Of course we don't, you were always in all those smart classes," Goodie snaps, and she laughs. Mrs. Click's history class with Steve Harrington was not the smart class, even if she was a year ahead of where she was supposed to be.
"Eddie, though…"
"Hey!" Eddie snaps, having heard it, somehow, despite talking to Steve at the same time.
Robin knows Eddie is headed into his third senior year, this time with her class. The rumor mill had been running wild at the end of last year, and it seems to be true, she guesses.
"Well, third time's the charm?" she asks, because what the fuck do you say to that? Sorry you flunked high school, again.
"Here's to hoping," Eddie answers, then turns his attention back to Steve.
Nancy really is gonna kill them if they don't head back, and soon.
"Steve, Nancy…"
"I know," Steve answers, "let me finish this beer and we're gone."
She nods, because unless she wants to stomp back through the woods all by herself, she doesn't have much choice in the matter.
Gareth hands her a stick with a marshmallow stuck in the end, and she takes it. She could have a s'more if she has to wait. It's the least they could do, she supposes, and she pokes it into the fire, starting to toast it up.
"Have you ever had one with a Reese's cup?" Gareth asks, holding up the package, an offer.
She hasn't, but now she wants to, for sure, and takes it from his hand, nodding in thanks.
"You used to work at the theater, right?" he asks.
"Unfortunately," she says.
"I went there a lot," he says.
"Oh, I'm well aware," Robin says, snarky.
And Goodie and Jeff both laugh, and it really wasn't that funny, she doesn't think.
"Haha, she knew you had a crush on her!" Goodie says, poking at Gareth with his roasting stick, as Gareth tries to bat it away.
"How embarrassing for you," Jeff adds, smirking, catching Robin's eye.
He did what now?
"I did not!" Gareth screeches in a way that says he probably, definitely did.
"I'm sure he didn't," she says, though, cutting him some slack, "If he did, he surely wouldn't have made such a gross mess for me to clean up everyday he was in there, right?"
"See? I was gross," Gareth clings to the accusation, like that's an improvement. Whatever helps him sleep at night.
"Okay, Pig-Pen," Jeff says, and Gareth is flushed. Probably from the embarrassment, but if he's not stupid, he'll play it off as the heat rolling off the sure to be illegal campfire.
Goodie laughs at the taunting, and she is so distracted that she almost burns her marshmallow, but she pulls it out and blows the flame out, just leaving a nice char. Sweet. Just how she likes them.
She puts the peanut butter cup on the graham cracker, and places the warm marshmallow on top, covers it with the other cookie, and is just squeezing it all together into a gooey mess when Steve leans over her shoulder and plucks it right out of her hand, taking a bite.
"Bad dingus, no!" she snaps, but just starts the process to toast another marshmallow. It'll be much easier to do that than fight for her original one from Steve's mouth. And she knows where that mouth has been, so no thank you.
"Thanks, Rob," Steve says, and she grumbles in response, but Gareth, Jeff and Goodie all laugh. Eddie is too busy plucking away at his guitar again, and he really doesn't sound half-bad.
She makes her second s'more, they say their thank yous and goodbyes, and start walking back towards their own campsite.
"So, what was that?" she asks, looking over at Steve, but it's really too dark now to see any of his features.
"What was what?" he asks, and it sounds like he honestly doesn't know.
"Whatever that was with Eddie?"
"What was? He's Eddie "The Freak" Munson, it was nothing," he says, and it doesn't sound like he's lying. Is he unaware he was flirting? Is that even possible?
She weighs her options. She's really gonna need more data. Maybe they'll cross paths again with Eddie Munson, and she'll be able to suss it out better.
"Nothing, I guess," she answers, and he just nods like he's not the least bit curious about what she meant.
Nancy and Jonathan are waiting at the edge of the campsite, and Nancy has a flashlight in hand. When she sees them approaching, she shines it right into their eyes.
"Jeez, Nance, put that thing down," Steve says, shielding his eyes from the onslaught of light, as Robin does the same over her own eyes.
"Where the hell have you two been?" Nancy asks, hands on her hips and she looks just like Steve, like that. It makes Robin smile.
"Bears. Checking for bears," Steve says.
"Well, either those bears threw shit at you in self-defense, or you have chocolate smeared all over your faces," Nancy declares, oh so dryly.
They both reach up to wipe at their faces, licking their lips.
"That's what I thought," Nancy accuses.
"Steve heard a guitar, it was Eddie Munson and his friends. They had s'mores," Robin caves, admitting to everything. Well, almost everything.
"You ate s'mores? From Eddie Munson?" Jonathan asks, then mumbles under his breath, "Wonder what those were laced with?"
Robin stills, she doesn't want to be drugged again, no way, but then laughs. She'd opened the candy herself, and unless Eddie had the forethought to lace the marshmallows or graham crackers, it seems unlikely.
And she's pretty sure Eddie's reputation is more bark than bite, anyway.
The kids must hear them talking, because they cause a commotion coming over, Dustin getting right into Steve's face.
"Back off, Henderson," Steve says, holding him by both shoulders, pushing him away.
"I smell beer! Steve's been drinking beer while in charge of us!" Dustin screams, and the other kids just look at him like he's lost his mind.
"So?" Lucas asks.
"Can I have one?" Mike tries, and Nancy and Steve both snap no at the same time, and he turns sullen.
"I had one beer, to be nice. To be friendly. Just to make sure we won't be, you know, messed with, or any of that dumb shit," Steve argues, hands waving.
"Sure, sounds likely," Dustin says, like the sarcastic little shit that he is.
"Well, that's what happened," Steve says, not rising to Dustin's bait, at least not yet.
"And just who did you have this beer with?" Dustin demands to know, hands on his hips. Have they all picked up this gesture from Steve? It's looking likely, at this point, and Robin worries for herself that she might be doing it without realizing. The horror.
"Eddie Munson," Steve says.
"Eddie Munson!" Dustin screeches, "He runs the Hellfire Club at the high school!"
"Yeah, yeah, I've heard," Steve says, resting his hand on the top of Dustin's head, ruffling his hair through his hat, "I put in a good word for you guys."
"No way, did you really?" Dustin asks, looking up at Steve, awed.
"I did, I told him to look for you in the fall. Now leave me be, you little dickhead, and don't make me take it back," Steve answers, and Dustin rushes back towards the other boys, suddenly excited about the prospect of maybe having an in to get into Hellfire Club.
Whatever floats his boat, she supposes.
Robin looks at the tents, and the small, very contained fire Nancy and Jonathan built while they were gone.
Looking at it now, camping might actually be fun.
At least for one night, anyway.
If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @astrangersummer and follow along with the fun! 🏕️
#a stranger summer#week four#prompt: camping#stranger things#robin buckley#platonic stobin#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve and robin#gareth stranger things#corroded coffin boys#corroded coffin fic#steddie#steddie fic#thisapplepielife: short fic#thisapplepielife: a stranger summer
32 notes
·
View notes
Text
I'm having a moment where I feel like I'm looking way too much into things but also that I am an absolute genius. You can decide which one I am.
So I'm remembering this funko shot listing pic they gave us back in november.
I still couldn't tell you what I definitely think is happening in this shot (apart from a very interesting theory of a collective Vecna trance a la that hotel episode of doctor who where they all have to deal with their darkest fears in this maze of hotel rooms, much like a "crawl" in d&d would suggest, but this isn't about that idea), but I do think knowing what we know at this point about what's being filmed for s5 (and more importantly WHO has filmed together), I think it's quite telling.
Walk with me for a second.
Based on things definitely confirmed about filming and potential leaks that could or couldn't be true, these groups are what I'm fairly certain about. There's been a couple rumours of El and Lucas working together this season trying to save Max, and they're next to each other. We've seen Joyce and possibly Will filming together, and they're next to each other. We also know from multiple photos and blatant spoilers that Robin and Will have been filming together quite a bit (swallowing my own opinion about that, let's just say I'm not totally thrilled), and they're next to each other. Whether Robin and Joyce have filmed anything together, idk. Then finally we know from both that pre-vis shot and the last photodump that Nancy, Jonathan, Steve and probably Dustin have filmed together in Steve's car, and oh look they're all together.
Right, Vickie. You will have to hear me out on this one. It may in part be my own desire to have Vickie actually involved in the bloody plot this time, but as far as we know about what they've filmed so far, Max is still in a coma. Vickie does not have a funko, and the Max funko in the shot seems to be furthest away from everyone, but closest to Robin, AND is faced down. Maybe they could have used Barb as another ginger girl to use as her placeholder and I'm being delusional, maybe that really is Max out of her coma fully functional by the second episode (cos oh yeah this shot is supposed to be within the first two episodes) and she's just faced down for the heck of it, but for the purposes of my current thoughts, we're going to assume it's supposed to be Vickie.
So based on all that, this is what I think could end up being some groupings for s5, at least for a little while.
They don't have to be permanent (god I HOPE they're not permanent cos why are you separating stobin again), but we could get these neat little three groups of four for at least a couple episodes maybe.
Nancy, Jonathan, Steve and Dustin, pretty certain have something to do on that farm in Steve's car, although half that pre-vis said jancy were in the upside down so maybe the car splits in half, idk. If so, rest in peace Steve's BMW.
Robin, Vickie, Will and Joyce, not a clue what they're doing, but if they are one big group they seem to be switching between downtown hawkins and the farm set again. Real world or upside down, idk.
Then El, Mike, Lucas and Hopper, not a ruddy clue couldn't tell you a thing in all honesty. We know both mileven and Hopper have filmed at the radio station, but so has everyone, so they might have absolutely nothing to do with whatever mini plot this may end up being, if it is one.
Whether this shot DIRECTLY links to how these groups end up grouped up, idk but it seems likely. Whatever is even happening here could lead into it, or it could just be simple foreshadowing of some sort. Maybe my groupings are wrong, maybe I'm talking out of my arse, irdk.
Sorry I feel like that was long, I am one of this planet's ramblers I cannot keep on topic and I say things in WAY too many words, so well done if you read it all, you're mad.
#stranger things#jim hopper#eleven hopper#lucas sinclair#mike wheeler#joyce byers#will byers#robin buckley#vickie stranger things#give vickie a last name#max mayfield#nancy wheeler#steve harrington#jonathan byers#dustin henderson#stranger things 5
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
if u listen to this song from mike’s pov u take -10 psychic damage btw. speaking from experience…
#i have so many thoughts about mike and i know the end this is just the most prominent one lol#a haunted house!!! with a PICKET FENCE to float around and GHOST MY FRIENDS#anyways. guess what i’m listening to right now#byler#mike wheeler
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
waiting to spill
pairing: mike schmidt x f!reader
summary: mike never thought your week-long trip home would lead to the discovery of a costly new craving
warnings: 18+ MDNI, established relationship, breeding kink, smut, desperate!mike, unprotected piv, creampie, riding, fingering, blue balls, mentions of pregnancy, cum play
word count: 3.9k
(based on this request)
Mike's praying the call goes through this time because if it doesn't, he might just lose his mind. You were supposed to land 20 minutes ago, but it's already half past 4 and your phone's still off.
Will it show how many missed calls you have? God, he hopes not. He's been redialing for the better part of an hour, hoping you landed early, but luck clearly isn't on his side. Every time it goes to voicemail, your voice taunts him. Just another reminder that you're not here—unreachable and untouchable.
Shitty fucking airline. He knew you should've taken an earlier flight, but he didn't want to be that guy. The one who tells you what to do and when, and makes decisions for his own benefit. He's a better guy than that, a better boyfriend than that, it's just—fuck, what is taking so long?
One more time. He'll try you one more time, and if it doesn't connect, he'll go sit on the couch and distract himself until you call him. He's already waited this long. He can suck it up a little longer. Probably.
He hits redial for the umpteenth time, his forehead thunking against the wall next to the landline, and then something miraculous happens. It rings.
Once, twice, and then you pick up. He doesn't wait for you to answer. Any patience he had left flew out the window hours ago and he doesn't care if you know it.
"Babe?"
You laugh softly on the other end, and it tugs at his heart...and his dick. Seatbelts click open in the background, and sounds of movement and chatter filter through the speaker.
"Hey, you. I actually just landed. I'll call you back once I get through customs, okay?" you reply, bright as ever.
It sets him off worse than he expected. You're so much more potent in real-time than on voicemail, and it's fucking with his sense of urgency. He doesn't want to rush you, but he needs you. So badly.
"W-wait. Can you come over? After you're done with the airport stuff, I mean," he manages to get out, interjecting cautiously before you can hang up.
"I was gonna stop home to drop off my bags and take a quick shower, but I can come over after that," you reply distractedly, likely dealing with overhead bins and other passengers trying to deplane.
He shakes his head, gripping the phone a little too tightly as he bites back a frustrated whine. That'll take too long. The airport's about an hour's ride from your apartment, and by the time you're done showering—no. No, just come to him. It's a shorter ride to his house, anyway.
"Just—you can do all of that here. Stay over and I'll drive you back to your place in the morning. Please?" he asks, desperation beginning to bleed into his voice.
It pulls your attention back to him almost immediately, and he hates how good that feels.
"Is everything okay? Did something happen?" you counter, misreading his plea as an emergency.
Your phone keeps shifting like it's tucked against your shoulder, and now it sounds like you're moving faster, hurrying like he wants you to, but for the wrong reasons.
"Everything's fine, I just need to see you," he says, willing you to understand. "Babe, I really need to see you."
He's too ashamed to spell it out. What would he even say? If he doesn't cum inside you soon, he thinks he might die? He's horny, not pathetic.
"Mike, that doesn't sound fine...," you sigh on the other end, your quickening footsteps audible through the receiver.
"Please."
You pause for a second, and his heart leaps into his throat. Don't say no. Please, don't say no.
"Gimme an hour, okay? I'll catch a cab to your place as soon as I can," you finally agree.
He breathes out a heavy sigh of relief, but it's louder than he realizes and you clock it on the spot.
"Are you sure you're okay?"
"Yeah, all good. I'm just glad you're back. Feels like it's been forever," he mumbles, somehow sated and yet anticipating your arrival more than ever.
He shifts anxiously from one foot to the other, wincing at the unexpected friction against the growing problem between his legs. The atmosphere around you changes and your responding laugh blends into the bustle of casual conversations and overhead announcements in your terminal.
"Can't survive one week without me, huh? I guess I'm bringing you and Abby along next time I visit my parents," you joke, but it's getting harder to make out what you're saying. "Look, I'm almost at customs. I'll see you soon, I promise."
The call ends, and he's left with the loneliness of a dial tone and an empty house. He hangs up and plops down on the couch, clutching the TV remote like a lifeline while he desperately tries to ignore the painful tent in his boxers.
An hour. He can handle one more hour.
He can't handle one more hour. It's been 45 minutes and he feels like he's about to burst. The worst part? It's his own damn fault.
He's the asshole who made the conscious decision not to jerk off the entire time you were gone, but he can't bring himself to regret it. He had his reasons. In about 15 minutes, it'll all be worth it.
Maybe less.
There's a knock at the door, and he's up and off the couch so fast, he's surprised he doesn't have whiplash. He wrenches it open to find you on the other side, a little stunned by the abrupt greeting, but worth every second of blue balls he put himself through.
"Hey," he breathes out, winded by his mad dash and the relief of you finally being here.
"Hey, yourself," you smile wryly. Your eyes drop to where he's not even remotely trying to hide his raging boner. "Ah-ha, so that's—"
But that's all you manage to say before he drags you into the house and slams your back against the door, shutting out your luggage and the cab driver still idling in the driveway. His lips crash into yours and you taste so good, it's dizzying.
Remnants of Sprite and spearmint gum linger on your tongue as it meets his, and he groans, wondering how he went an entire week without this. All that time, deprived of your addictive touch and perfect tits while he tortured himself, waiting for you to come back to him.
He can't decide where to put his hands first, roaming and squeezing from your waist, up your shirt—which he's just realizing is his—to splay across your ribcage. Pressing you harder into the door, he separates from your lips to mouth at the underside of your jaw, mumbling his appreciation between each harsh bruise he sucks into your skin.
"Fuck, I missed you," he pants, shamelessly grinding into your hip for relief. He wants you to feel how hard you're making him, so you'll understand all those missed calls.
"Yeah? I can tell," you laugh breathily, running your hands up his chest, pushing his shirt up as you go.
Your thumbs brush against his bare skin, sending a heady jolt straight to his cock, and suddenly none of this is moving fast enough. His hands drop to your ass, roughly tugging your hips into his, and you gasp in unison at the friction. Together, you fall into a frantic rhythm, rutting into each other like a pair of horny teenagers.
"Shit, Mike...," you moan his name, and he feels like he's dreaming. He has to be because nothing else in his waking world has ever felt this good.
Contrary to the rest of his body, he kisses you again slowly, savoring every noise he's coaxing from you and devouring them like a man starved. Your fingers thread through his hair, pulling him closer, and he swears he's never letting you leave this house again.
If by some miracle he does, he's going to make sure you're pumped so full of him, you'll be leaking him the entire time you're gone, unable to think about anything else. And when you come back, he'll do it all over again.
Damnit, he needs you in his bed, now.
He backs away from the door with you still in his arms, leading you further into the house down a path you know by heart. Briefly, he separates from your lips to lift your shirt up and over your head, then discards his own before tugging down the cups of your bra to latch onto a nipple.
You hiss at the contact, trembling as he teases it with his teeth, and immediately reach behind you to unclasp the offending piece of fabric. It drops soundlessly to the floor along with your jeans, underwear, and finally his boxers. Nipping sharply at the sensitive skin one last time, he pulls away to admire you, trailing his fingers down your arms until your hands are in his.
You're fucking beautiful. Your lips are kiss-swollen and glossy, begging to be kissed again, and your thighs are...wet, fucking hell. Fuck, he missed you. His mouth starts to water at the thought of licking into you, fucking you with his tongue while your thighs quake on either side of his head, but the painful throbbing between his legs is starting to overwhelm him.
He's positive, now, that if he's not inside you soon, he'll actually die. He's not just horny, anymore. It's so far beyond that.
Four more agonizing steps backward and he's finally passing the threshold into his room, so close to being on his back with you bouncing on top of him—except he doesn't make it that far.
The door shuts behind you, and then you're on your knees, wrapping those perfect fingers around his dick and guiding him between your lips. He panics. There's no way he's going to last if you try to blow him right now.
Tenderly, you lick a stray bead of precum off the tip, and his balls immediately draw up so tight, he has to slide your hand down to the base and squeeze to keep from cumming on the spot. He shakes his head, his eyebrows furrowing as he inhales sharply through his nose.
"Babe, I can't...," he grits out, struggling to find the words to explain himself. "I'll cum too fast, you can't."
You grin, leaning forward to press your lips against his white-knuckled fist.
"That's sort of the whole point, isn't it?" you tease, trailing back to his cock, seconds away from giving him the most intense orgasm of his life.
"I need to fuck you," he blurts out. It's short and to the point, but there's no use in pretending he doesn't. At this point, he'll be lucky if he doesn't explode the second he's inside you. "I need to fuck you so bad right now, I feel like I'm going crazy."
You pause to look up at him, your eyes roving over his face, lingering on his angrily ticking jaw. You get it, now.
"Hey, it's okay—you're okay," you murmur, leaning forward to kiss away another drop of precum. He chokes back a groan and reflexively jerks away, and you take the hint to release your grip. "Okay, fuck me. Show me how much you missed me."
But you don't have any idea what you're asking for, do you? He missed you so much. There's so much catching up to do, and he has so little patience left.
He doesn't waste any more time. With every ounce of self-control he's got left, he drags you to your feet and towards the bed, trying his best not to manhandle you up the mattress and onto his lap. He fails epically. The second he's flat on his back with you grinding down on him, his patience becomes a thing of the past.
"You ready for me? Because I'm not gonna be able to stop, and I need you to feel good," he's starting to babble, but he has a feeling nothing he says from now on will make any sense, and he needs you to want it as much as he does.
His hands slide up your thighs to your waist, and when he tugs you closer to notch at your entrance, he can feel you clenching wetly around him.
"Shit—," he breathes out, his biceps tensing as he lifts you and lines himself up. He pushes in just enough for you to stretch around the tip, and you steady yourself on his chest, your palms searingly hot on his skin as you squeeze him a little harder.
"Let me make you feel good," he says again, even though you're already letting him, already yielding to his steady push and pull. Every inch he gives you feels like taking a shot of tequila, and it's making his head spin. If he could hear himself anymore, he'd realize he sounds wasted.
"Let me fill you up, please," he begs, rolling his hips up to lengthen his thrusts. They’re so much easier now that you’re dribbling down him—so much wetter—but you're so damn tight, he has to force himself to look away from where you're joined and gripping the hell out of him. "You know, I-I waited for you—waited to cum, I didn't cum at all."
"Mike...fuck. That's good. That's so good, baby," you tell him shakily. "Give it to me. Nice and deep, you deserve it."
He keens at the praise—he couldn't have stopped himself if he'd tried—and your nails bite into his skin in response, nose scrunching adorably as you gush around him. He knew you'd like that. He knew you'd want it.
Look at his girl, so pretty on top of him, just waiting for him to bust inside you. Fleetingly, he wonders if you're still on birth control. Possessively, he doesn't care. Rationally, he knows he can't afford to knock you up, but shit—right now, he really fucking wants to. He imagines you in the same position you're in, horny and round with his baby, and suddenly he's never wanted anything so badly in his life.
He doesn't stop to think about whether or not he should. He doesn't stop at all, just like he warned you, not even when he's buried to the hilt and you're both struggling to adjust.
He just buries himself in you again and again and again until the sound of your skin colliding with his becomes a wet thock-thock-thock that bounces off the walls of his bedroom. The springs beneath him squeak dangerously as he pushes his bedframe to its absolute limits, but he can’t hear any of that, either.
His senses are in overdrive, and all he can focus on is how you feel around him. And he’s not nearly as deep as he needs to be. Rougher than he means to, he grabs your ass with both hands and starts to force you up and down his cock, gripping hard enough to bruise. He’ll hate how much he likes the idea of that later.
"S-so fucking pretty...gonna make me cum so hard. So much. Need you to take all of it," he pants with the exertion of lifting and dropping your full weight onto himself.
He can feel himself slamming into your cervix and desperately tries to think about anything else but emptying right into it, but the sight of you taking him like you were made for it makes it ten times worse.
Just looking at you makes him want to cum—your tits bouncing as you ride him, your pussy creaming down his cock and balls, and seeping into his sheets. Those pouty lips of yours moaning around pleas of harder and right there and don't stop, I'm cumming.
"Baby...babe—," your shattered voice cuts through the fog, and then he feels it. "M'cumming. I'm...Mike, keep going there, there. Don't stop, please don't stop."
Fucking hell, you're really cumming. Tight and wet, and clamping down on him like a vice. Somehow, he always forgets it's like this with you. That you cum this hard for him, that he's able to make you cum this hard for him. For a second, he feels overwhelmingly grateful. Then, he's planting his feet on the bed and fucking you so hard, you stop moaning and start screaming.
It's there. It's right there, so close he can feel it building everywhere. Sweat trickles down his temples, matting his curls to his forehead, and you brush them away, one hand braced on the mattress next to his head and the other buried in his hair as you ride out your high.
His balls draw up so tight, it's painful, and he thinks he might start yelling too, but he's too focused on the chase. He's too busy watching, dumbfounded by the perfect body coming apart on top of him.
The girl he waited for.
He tries to tell you. He tries to open his mouth and tell you that you’re everything he thought he’d never have, and that he wants to keep you forever. That he wants to be part of you, that being inside you is one of the rare places he’s ever felt wanted. But that’s not what comes out.
He’s too far gone now, and all he can manage is an incomprehensible stream of moans and sighs as he forces you flush against his pelvis, grinding into you as deep as he can reach. His eyes struggle not to close, nearly crossing as that familiar heat permeates his limbs and pools at the base of his cock. But it’s so much more intense than he can ever remember it being.
He lifts his gaze to your lips to find them moving, repeatedly forming a single word he can barely make out. But by the time he figures it out, he’s already giving you what you asked for.
Please. You’re saying please. He repeats it back, begging you to take it, thanking you for letting him have this.
His orgasm rocks him. As it peaks, he feels numb like he’s suspended in time, and then it slams into him so hard, he folds in on himself. He buries his face in your tits, his breath hitching sharply in time with the visible throbbing of his cock, and he’s immediately flooded with relief. But it won’t fucking stop. It lasts so much longer than either of you expect it to, pulse after endless pulse, and he holds you in place through it all.
When it finally subsides and sensitivity sets in, your nails scratching lightly across his back are what bring him back to the present. He lifts his head from where it's still pillowed on your tits, and you lean down to kiss his forehead.
Maybe he’s imagining it, or maybe he’s just been dreaming this entire time, but he swears you’re glowing. The final rays of late summer sun illuminate your dewy skin and soft curves, and as you move lower to kiss his lips, he unconsciously rests a hand over your stomach. It feels right—but only briefly. His head starts to clear the longer he licks into your mouth, and when you part, reality finally hits.
"Shit, I think I just got you pregnant," he breathes out, sliding his hand off your stomach to your waist before collapsing onto the mattress. "Shit."
He looks up at you in concern, his mind racing a mile a minute. What did he just do? He can’t—you can't get pregnant. Not with Abby, and your jobs, and his shitty finances. It just isn't an option.
And yet you’re still perched on top of him, snug around his softening dick, and he can’t bring himself to pull out. You don’t even seem remotely worried.
You're actually smiling. No, you're laughing, and he's still panicking and confused as hell. It gets infinitely worse when you accidentally push him out and his gut reaction is to plug you back up with his fingers, keeping his release from leaking out. This is so fucked up. He’s so fucked up.
"I mean—were you trying to?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. "Kinda seems like it."
Your eyes drop between your legs to where his hand is cupping your heat, irrefutable proof that you’re not wrong. So, why doesn’t that bother you?
"Babe, breathe," you smile softly, brushing a few stray hairs from his face. "I'm like, 98.8 percent positive you can't knock me up. Give or take, but we can check the box if it'll make you feel better."
It actually might, but the last thing he's going to do is admit it. He can't believe he didn't double-check something like that—but then again, he feels like he's been in a fugue state for hours, if not the entire week you were gone.
"You're still on birth control?" he asks cautiously, almost afraid to get his hopes up. He takes a deep breath like you told him to and it helps ease some of his lingering panic. Not all of it, but at least he's starting to think rationally and not with his dick.
"Mike. There isn't a single condom in this entire house. Yes, I'm on birth control," you laugh again, and even just the sound of it is soothing. It helps, too.
"And it definitely works? Because that was...a lot," he mumbles. He already knows he sounds like a total idiot, but he has to be sure. There's still a week's worth of his release plugged up inside you, and as much as it turns him on, he needs to know if he has to run out to the pharmacy or if he's free to do it again. And again.
"Have you ever fucked me with a condom on?" you counter. He scoffs at the question, and you clench around his fingers in retaliation.
"Of course, I have. Maybe not in a while, but early on, for sure," he replies confidently, even though he's not confident in his answer at all. Sure, he can't give you a specific example, but that doesn't mean it never happened.
"You literally came inside me the day we met," you deadpan.
His cock stirs at the memory, hardening distractingly against your inner thigh. That, he definitely remembers. He's pretty sure that's the night he fell in love with you, but he's hard-pressed to admit that, either.
"There's no way."
"And every time since then," you continue, looking way too amused at his misfortune. Can't get anything past you, can he?
Okay, so maybe it wasn't just your trip that triggered what happened tonight. Maybe it's always been a thing. His thing. You just look so goddamn good—filled with it, covered in it. Shit, he really shouldn't be hard already.
"Babe, come on. I do...it other places, too,” he reasons, sliding his hand up to tweak a nipple. But it becomes a moot point the second your breath hitches. So much for rational thinking. “I just—"
"You just really like cumming inside me," you finish for him, taking his cock in your hand and stroking him until he's as desperate as he was earlier.
He pulls his fingers free from your pussy and tries not to lament the immediate rush of cum that leaks out. It's okay. He's got plenty more to give you.
"Yeah, I really do."
thanks for reading!
(and so much love to @joelsgreys, @tinycozycomfort & @psychedelic-ink for your help & support, and for listening to me go on and on about this man <3)
#mike schmidt x reader#mike schmidt x you#mike schmidt imagine#mike schmidt smut#mike schmidt#fnaf imagine#fnaf smut#fnaf movie#fnaf#five nights at freddy's
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Were they kidding with this bullshit? Like, seriously? So many gates opening up to different dimensions now that there were too many for Supergirl to close and this? This is what they got? Fuck this. Seriously.
"Are you a virgin?" Mike asked like the total little dickhead he is.
"So what if I am? Aren't you? And the rest of your little friends?" Eddie sniped back at the rude little bastard but then, he blanched, "actually, don't answer that. I don't want to know."
Why did this have to be happening when Eddie was on a perimeter check?
Mike rolled his eyes like he couldn't believe how ridiculous Eddie was being, "Dumbass, we're children. Unicorns never go to innocent children in fairy tales. Because we're all innocent. They go to innocent adults. Virgins." He put far too much emphasis on the word because he is, as mentioned, a little dickhead.
"Listen, fuck you and the unicorn you rode in on. I'm not fucking innocent. I've done...things. Things I'm not gonna tell you about!" Eddie sputtered, crossing his arms and almost losing his precarious balance on the tree branch.
He needed to be careful because there was a unicorn circling underneath him. And not the beautiful, ethereal kind. It was beautiful, sure, but it had blood all over his muzzle and splattered across it's chest and on it's front hooves. Probably from the last virgin it had tracked down in god knows what dimension and trampled slash eaten to death. It's eyes were blazing red fire and it had fangs. Fangs. Fuck. That.
Eddie heard Steve sighing and then he flailed an arm from Eddie's tree branch to Robin and said, "It can't be trying to get you because you're a virgin, it's not going anywhere near Robin!"
The girl in question squeaked. Her ears and cheeks went bright red. All three of them turned to look at her.
"Wait, what? Was it you know who? From the...? You didn't tell me? When did you...?" Steve asked cryptically, shedding absolutely no light on who Buckley was knocking boots with.
"Yes after we met at the...place." Robin supplied lamely and then bared her teeth and said through them, "After. But before we went back in to fight Henry slash Vecna slash One." She shrugged and let out a hysterical sounding giggle. "It was...End of the World Sex. Just in case, you know?"
"Ohhhh I'm so proud of you!" And oddly, Steve really did sound proud. Which was weird. Eddie was pretty sure Robin was gay which meant the caginess was in reference to a girl but the fact that Steve was so supportive was a little suprising.
Without actively thinking about the repercussions, Eddie's mouth decided to test that theory, "Well damn, wish I'd have thought of that. Steve - want to deflower me so this unicorn leaves me alone?" The hysterical giggle Eddie let out rivaled Robin's.
Slowly Steve turned back to him but before he could reply, Mike scoffed, "You are his type. Skinny, big bushy hair, big eyes, you and Nancy both talk like everyone is just waiting to listen to you to speak." He rolled his eyes, "Annoying."
"Rude!" Eddie tilted his head thoughtfully, "You know what though? I'm fine with it. Nancy Wheeler is a badass and I want to be her when I grow up. Or when I get down from this tree." Eddie cringed, staring down as the unicorn stopped and looked up, one of it's flaming eyes bore into him. It neighed, shaking it's gorgeous mane but also splattering little droplets of blood everywhere.
Gross. So gross.
"Huh. Now that you mention it..." Robin stared up at Eddie thoughtfully, "I totally see it."
Steve just dragged his hand down his face and glared at the angry unicorn, "Okay, we need a real plan because Eddie isn't coordinated enough to have sex in a tree." He put his hands on his hips like a baseball mom wondering if she brought enough orange slices and Shastas for the whole team. "Do we know any other adult virgins to lure this one away?"
Mike snorted, "Those are probably more rare than the unicorn.'
Eddie flipped him off, "You're rolling at disadvantage on all charisma and persuasion checks for the rest of time."
"We'll have to find a new DM when the unicorn gores you anyway," Mike shrugged. "Whatever."
Then he wandered off. Just walked away, like Eddie wasn't two feet away from being mauled by a feral beast who's name was probably Glitter Sparkle or some shit. What a dickhead.
Looking away from the unicorn, Eddie watched Robin wave Steve over and whisper to him. They had a hushed conversation for several minutes while Eddie yelled things like, "Wanna share with the class?" and "Good friends don't make shitty plans in secret!" But they ignored him. Bastards.
Until Steve turned to the tree and asked, "By 'things' what do you mean?"
What?
"Harrington, what the hell are you talking about?"
"You said you've done 'things' but not had sex. What things?" Steve brushed a hand through his miraculously still perfect hair, and sighed, obviously frustrated, "We're trying to figure out what the unicorn considers virginity. Robin's never..." He petered off and glanced back at her and then over at Mike who was half way down the block with his radio out, sitting on a bench with his back to them, probably telling everyone that Eddie still had his V card. Traitor.
He was too far away for them to hear his conversation so he was probably too far for theirs.
Robin cleared her throat. "I've never had, you know, penetrative sex. Just...um...uh...third base!" She squeaked again and then covered her face with her hands.
"You're being extremely weird about sex talk while a blood covered unicorn is stalking me like a jungle cat!" Eddie informed her. "Oral. Just say oral sex, you weirdo!"
"Ok fine!" She shouted, "I've given and reciprocated oral sex! Jesus." Then she crossed her arms and grumbled under her breath, tapping one foot on the grass.
Eddie couldn't help it. He laughed with glee. "Was she cute?"
Robin sputtered, mouth dropping in shock.
What? Did she think she was a subtle lesbian? Because she wasn't. Not at all. Her high tops had boobs drawn on them like some twelve year old boy just hitting puberty. He rolled his eyes.
Steve looked up at Eddie then. His eyebrows were arched in that way they get when he's thinking up a plan. They're not always good plans but he carries them out and everyone usually lives so, Eddie could do worse. "Well - Big Boy?" Steve's lips twitched in a smile at using Eddie's nickname for him. "I'm guessing when you said you've done 'things,' you were lying?"
"Yeah, duh." Eddie retorted, snapping in his irritation and mounting fear. Mounting, ha. Like a horse and like sex. Mounting. He bit his lip to contain the very poorly timed giggle.
Robin rolled her eyes, grabbed Steve's arm and gave him a severe 'be careful' look and then hustled over to where Mike was sitting. When Steve tucked his bat into his backpack and started to creep around the tree, he realized she was giving them privacy. Holy shit.
The unicorn didn't even acknowledge Steve's presence as he skirted around it and climbed the tree, grunting and complaining under his breath how nobody better call him the Virginsitter because he swears to God. Then the rest of his grumbling got lost, buried under the sound of Eddie's heart pounding in his ears.
Holy shit.
And that's how Eddie lost his mythically constructed virginity in a tree to Steve Harrington who was apparently bisexual and very, very good at blowjobs.
Neither of them even noticed which way the unicorn went.
#steddie#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#feral unicorns#it's a thing#I'm making it a thing#virginity is a man made construct to place value on a women's virtue and fuck that nonsense
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
episode eight: the gate
“Drop me and die.” Your knuckles are white as they clutch the rope, your body shaking with exhaustion as you try to ease your way down without further injuring your ribs.
Steve laughs and tightens his grip on your waist, steadying you as you finally inch the rest of the way down and land with a gentle thud onto the ground. “Like I’d ever dream of letting you go.”
This time, you know it’s his words that cause you to shiver, not the exhaustion and pain.
Summary: you encourage nancy to take your place (everyone is shocked), you and steve are the newest babysitters in town, billy ruins things as always, tunnels are weird when youre concussed, you remind jonathan of an old promise, and when the snowball comes you make your own promise with steve that you know you can keep.
Rating: general, although very violent
Warnings: use of y/n, fem!reader, intense violence and blood, weapons, monsters, probably more im forgetting
Words: 20.1k (no one speak to me)
Before you swing in: this is it ,,, the final episode of season two <3 this chapter was both the easiest and hardest one ive ever written. there are scenes in here that i put so much into, and im so proud of where everything landed. handling so many relationships and dynamics was so incredibly difficult, but i adore where they ended up. i hope you guys do, too :)
-
“Eleven,”
“Mike.”
The two kids embrace, Mike holding desperately onto El as if he’s afraid she’ll disappear again any second, and she’s holding onto him just as tightly as their tears mix together.
You watch them with a hand over your heart, your own tears spilling over. You can’t believe this is real, that El is standing in Mike’s arms alive and real.
The way they cling to each other brings more tears to your eyes. It’s obvious to everyone how much they love one another. You think about the endless batches of brownies you baked for Mike, how many nights you spent in his basement standing watch, looking for any sign of grief, in case he needed you there to remind him that it’s okay to cry.
“Is that…?” Max asks Lucas, and he nods.
“She’s back.” You exhale, feeling Dustin’s fingers slip between yours. He knows how much you missed El, he’s spent just as many nights keeping watch over you, reminding you to cry as well.
Mike pulls away, his eyes shining with tears. “I never gave up on you. I called you every night. Every night for–”
“353 days.” El finishes for him, you’ve never heard so much emotion in her voice. “I heard.”
You think about the nights you found Mike huddled underneath the fort he once built for El in his basement, clutching the radio to his chest, passed out from exhaustion. You never mentioned it to the boy, knowing he’d simply deny and tell you it was nothing, but hearing El confirm what you already knew still hurts.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were there?”
You look around the room now, wondering the same as Mike, and then your eyes land on Hopper. While everyone looks surprised or confused at El’s reappearance, Hopper’s face is one of resignation.
Everything clicks.
He knew.
Hopper sees that you’ve pieced it together and steps forward. “Because I wouldn’t let her.”
You step forward as well so that you’re next to Mike, knowing that this will only upset him more. “You knew.”
“What the hell is this?” The chief ignores you, now speaking only to El. “Where’ve you been?”
“Where have you been?” El’s eyes darken, but she immediately melts when Hopper pulls her into a hug. By watching their body language, you can tell that they love each other dearly, and distantly you remember hearing about the daughter Hopper once had.
Though you’re angry he hid El from you, you’re thankful they found one another in the end. You’ve never seen Hopper so tender with someone, and El seems to feel safe within his embrace, far from the skittish girl you found in the woods last year.
“You’ve been hiding her!” Lost in your thoughts, you momentarily forget about Mike, who launches himself at Hopper and punches the man’s chest. “You’ve been hiding her this whole time!”
Hopper flinches away. “Hey–”
“Mike,” you grab his shoulders, knowing his anger will only do more harm than good, but he struggles against you as he tries to continue hitting the man. “We can all talk about this–”
“Let’s talk,” Hopper grabs at Mike’s shirt, finally forcing the kid to stop. Then, looking directly at you, he adds. “Alone.”
You look at Mike, silently asking him what he needs from you. You know the two of them need to settle their differences, that he feels Hopper’s betrayal the deepest and you trust him to make his own choices. However, with one headshake from him, you would prevent Mike from being alone with Hopper in a heartbeat.
Mike knows this, he doesn’t have to even have to ask what you mean when you gently nod your chin at him. Taking a deep breath, the boy sighs and nods at you, indicating that he’ll talk with the cop.
You let go of Mike and gently push him towards Hopper. “He’s all yours, but try not to kill him, please? I unfortunately like the kid.”
Hopper doesn’t play into your words and promptly grabs the back of Mike’s hoodie and marches him towards Will’s room. The door closes behind them, leaving you to deal with El.
Her nose is bleeding and she looks upset having Mike taken from her, there’s an exhaustion behind her eyes that you’re all too familiar with. You wrap an arm around her waist and pull her into you. “C’mere, sweetheart.”
El leans into the kiss you press upon her cheek and closes her eyes, relishing in the tenderness after the night she’s had. “Missed you.”
“And I missed you.” You place another kiss on her head. “The hairstyle suits you, by the way.”
This seems to lighten the girl up a bit, who giggles and quietly thanks you as she wraps her arms fully around you now, securing you into a hug. You allow her all the time she needs to collect herself.
When you hear Mike’s heartbroken screams at Hopper, calling him a liar, you squeeze your arms tighter around El. “They’ll be fine,” you promise her, feeling the need to reassure her of this, though hearing Mike’s screams breaks your heart.
You understand why Hopper hid El, it wasn’t safe for anyone to know about her being alive, but Mike spent the entire year grieving for her. He lost a year of his childhood mourning the loss of a close friend, of someone he loves, and it isn’t fair to expect him to accept this.
El nods at your reassurance before you’re suddenly shoved away from her.
“You’re hogging the former dead girl, Y/N!” Dustin exclaims as he engulfs El into a hug.
Lucas flashes you an apologetic smile before hugging the girl as well, focusing his attention on her. “We missed you.”
“I missed you too.” She responds, squeezing both boys tight.
“We talked about you pretty much every day.” Dustin pulls away before pointing at you. “Y/N usually just cried.”
You elbow your brother, causing him to wince. “You say that like I don’t normally cry over things.”
Dustin opens his mouth to argue, but suddenly El’s fingers are pinching at his lips as she pries his jaw open. Your brother looks at you in alarm, and you’re too stunned to do anything besides watch in bewilderment.
“Teeth.” El finally says,
You giggle, while Dustin simply stares at her as if she’s insane. “What?”
“You have teeth.”
Dustin breaks into a smile. “Oh, you like these pearls?”
When he makes an obscure purring sound with his mouth, you scoff at your brother and roll your eyes alongside Lucas. “Please, never do that ever again.”
“Eleven?” Max now approaches with a warm smile on her face, the most open you’ve ever seen the girl, and extends her hand for El to shake. “Hey, um. I’m Max. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
El looks at you and tilts her head, which you assume means she’s unsure what to do, so you step in. “Max is a friend, sweetheart.”
She eyes Max’s hand, looks up at her again, before bypassing the girl completely and going straight into Joyce’s arms.
You frown, confused by El’s unusual dismissiveness, and look over at Max. Her head is ducked down, embarrassed, and you make a mental note to remind yourself later to ask El what happened. Max is a good girl, they deserve to be friends and you know they’d get along if given the chance.
Joyce cradles El’s head and greets her with tears, and the girl responds the same. After they’ve hugged, El pulls away, her tears now ones of worry. “Can I see him?”
Joyce’s eyes flash to you, and the two of you seem to realize the same thing: it’s no coincidence that El arrived when she did. You think about what Dustin and the kids deciphered in morse code, Will’s hidden message.
Close the gate.
El is the only person you know can do it.
“Go take her to him,” you tell Joyce. “I’ll catch everyone else up.”
The woman nods, her eyes appreciative, before gently guiding El towards Will’s room.
“I’m assuming I’m ‘everyone’.” Steve says as soon as Joyce and El have left.
You laugh, finally rejoining his side. “Yeah, pretty much.”
“Alright, catch me up then. Who was the girl and why does she have a bloody nose problem?”
“Her name is Eleven, or El. Besides the Demogorgon, and Demodogs, did we ever discuss El?”
Nancy speaks up from the corner, timid. “I, uh… Didn’t tell Steve a lot. We kinda just, we–we didn’t ever really–”
“I never let Nancy explain, and I was too afraid to ask.” Steve kindly saves Nancy, and something both you and Jonathan take note of.
“Well,” you clap your hands, dispelling away any remaining tension for both your sake and the kids’ sakes. “El has these powers, she can make things move with her mind, and when she uses them she gets nose bleeds.”
Steve stares at you. “Okay…”
“Mhm. It’s just as insane as it sounds. Remember the whole Upside Down story Dustin and I told you about yesterday? Well, she can travel there and has a connection to it. With her mind. Somehow. I don’t actually know the logistics of it.”
“You’re doing great, bug.” Jonathan’s voice drips with sarcasm, but Dustin hits his chest to shut him up.
“Thanks, Dustin. Anyways, El has these insane powers and she’s the sweetest, softest person I’ve ever met. We…” your voice trails off now, still getting used to the fact that she’s alive. “We thought we lost her last year, when she killed the Demogorgon and helped bring Will back.”
“But she’s alive.” Steve concludes.
You nod, a natural smile spreading across your face. “She is.”
“If you say she’s the sweetest person you’ve ever met, then I definitely believe you.”
Steve’s words make you blush, the pure and honest way he says them, and both Dustin and Jonathan cringe. The two boys share a look, both for once on the same page in a long time, and make gagging motions.
You see this and flick both of their heads. “I know where you both sleep.”
Both boys stick their tongue out at you, and for a moment everything feels normal. Jonathan and Dustin are teasing you, Jonathan’s eyes are lit up, and your brother is carefree again.
Then Joyce returns to the living room with El and the mood becomes somber again.
They stand over the kitchen table, El stares down at the piece of paper with the “close gate” on it, and Joyce asks the question you’ve all been wondering. “You opened this gate before, right?”
“Yes,” the girl responds as you and everyone else now join her and Joyce.
“Do you think if we got you back there, that you could close it?”
El looks between you and Joyce, her gaze stony and resigned. You wonder what else she’s gone through to put such a void within her; like all the other kids, she no longer has a sweet naivety to her.
Then, slowly, El nods.
–
“It’s not like it was before. It’s grown. A lot.” Everyone stands in the kitchen, circling around Hopper as he explains exactly what the gate now is. “I mean, that’s considering we can get in there. The place is crawling with those dogs.”
You grab Dustin’s shirt and yank harshly at it. “Don’t you dare–”
“Demodogs.”
Hopper looks at him, sighing. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Please just ignore him.” You plead with the officer, knowing he’s already in a bitchy mood.
Dustin doesn’t pick up on the anger, though. “I said, uh… Demodogs. Like Demogorgon and dogs.”
“Oh my god,” you groan, rubbing at your temples. You’ve heard this explanation of the word play a million times within the last twenty-four hours. If you have to hear Dustin explain what Demodog means one more time, you think you may murder the kid.
Dustin, unfortunately, continues. “You put them together… it sounds pretty badass–”
“How is this important right now?” Hopper snaps at the boy, which only makes you more annoyed.
You put your hand up at the old man, closing your fingers together to mimic a mouth being shut. “One more aggressive comment to the thirteen year old and I will show you that Nancy isn’t the only one who can shoot a gun.”
“Uh, Y/N…” Jonathan nervously mumbles, unsure what Hopper’s reaction may be.
However, the chief simply raises an eyebrow at you, stares you down for a few seconds, before finally seeming to decide that he’s impressed with your bold comment. “I’ll make sure to remember that.”
“I can do it.” El suddenly voices from the other end of the table.
“You’re not hearing me.” Hopper’s shoulders slump. You can tell by his now defeated stance that he has yet to win an argument against El, something that you’re incredibly proud of her for.
“I’m hearing you. I can do it.”
“Even if El can, there’s still another problem.” Mike speaks up, looking around the table to ensure everyone is listening. “If the brain dies, the body dies.”
Max frowns. “I thought that was the whole point.”
“It is, but if we’re really right about this…”
“Will,” you breathe out quietly with dread, understanding where Mike is going with this.
Mike continues explaining. “I mean, if El closes the gate and kills the mind flayer’s army–”
“Will’s a part of that army.” Lucas finishes as he looks over at you, now knowing why you’ve just exhaled the boy’s name with grief.
“Closing the gate will kill him.”
Jonathan tenses at Mike’s words, and you place your hand against the back of his neck in a grounding manner. You can feel his rapid heartbeat against your hand, even from this position, and you play with his hair to try and soothe him.
He’s terrified of what may happen to his little brother, once again struck with pure terror that he could lose him. You’re not sure how many more times Jonathan can grieve his brother without losing a piece of himself.
Steve, standing on your other side, sees the way your fingers intertwine in Jonathan’s hair. The same way they did earlier with his own hair as you hugged him.
He frowns, looking away.
Everyone else falls silent as well, Mike’s words hang in the air. Your gaze shifts to Joyce, who has a deep frown on her face, and before you ask her what she’s thinking, she stands up from the table. “Follow me.”
No one says anything as you all follow the woman to Jonathan’s room, where Will lays motionless on top of the bed you’ve slept in for years. His body is stiff, the hospital gown swallows him, and the sight disturbs you.
You walk over to the boy and kneel next to the bed. It’s in your nature to take care of Will, you do this without even thinking about it. Stroking his forehead, you place a kiss against it as you watch his mom in the doorway.
“He likes it cold.” Joyce mumbles, eying the open window in the room.
“What?” Asks Hopper, standing behind the woman.
Joyce looks over at her son now. “It’s what Will kept saying to me. He likes it cold.” Then, as her voice grows stronger, she walks over to the window and slams it shut. “We keep giving it what it wants.”
Nancy and Jonathan walk over to you now, the girl remains standing while Jonathan kneels down next to you. The two of you take turns caressing Will’s forehead as Nancy starts to speak. “If this thing is a virus, and Will’s the host, then…”
“Then we need to make the host uninhabitable.”
You turn to Jonathan, not at all liking what he’s saying. “What does that even mean? He’s a kid, how do you make a child’s body uninhabitable?”
“He likes it cold.” Nancy says, as if that explains everything.
“But–”
Joyce clenches her jaw and spits out, “We need to burn it out of him.”
Everything about what Joyce has said makes your stomach twist. You look down at Will’s body, at how small he still is despite a year of trying to get him to recover, and his pale skin is almost translucent in the bedroom’s lighting.
You hate everything about what’s happening, but you hate the way Will looks lifeless even more.
If making his body uninhabitable can save him, then you have to try; you’ll simply be there to pick up the pieces when it’s done, as you always are.
The kids begin planning now.
“We have to do it somewhere he doesn’t know this time.” Mike says.
“Yeah, somewhere far away.” Dustin adds on.
“Last I checked, none of us have a hidden hut in the woods.” You say, at a loss for where else to possibly take Will. Then, Hopper clears his throat and shifts his weight. “Oh, no fucking way. You would have a hidden hut in the woods.”
“It’s a cabin.” Hopper corrects with annoyance, though there’s a slight glint in his eye as he looks at you. “Joyce and Jonathan will take Will there.”
“Well, go show them the cabin, then.”
Jonathan grabs your hand. “You’re not coming with?”
As if there’s a string tugging at the back of your head, you turn around and catch Steve’s eye. He’s standing in the doorway, eyes alert yet sad, and you know with everything within you that you can’t leave him behind.
Not when he was shaking in your arms only twenty minutes prior.
Steve doesn’t want to be alone, especially not when you’d be leaving him behind with Nancy after it’s become clear that she’s with Jonathan now.
Now, as Jonathan’s open and expecting eyes stare into yours, you do something you’ve never done before. Something you’ve needed to do ever since you were twelve and grabbed the boy’s hand on the Wheeler’s porch that fateful night.
You let go of Jonathan.
“I can’t,” you tell him, the words of denial feeling foreign on your tongue. You’ve never told him no before, never left him behind, but saying the words isn’t as difficult as you once feared. “I’ll stay with the kids, I’m better with them anyways.”
Jonathan watches you, his eyes trace over your face again and again as if drinking it in for the very last time. When he seems to find what he’s looking for, he takes a deep breath and nods. “Yeah, okay.”
His understanding of everything you don’t say almost makes you take it all back, but you don’t. Instead, you squeeze his hand and nod towards Nancy. “Why don’t you take Nance?”
Something shifts when you say this, you know Jonathan feels it as well. There’s an ease within the shift, almost akin to a soft exhale in December’s cold. It parts you with a gentle farewell, strokes your cheek as it departs, and you can faintly see its outline as it floats away.
A thread, one that has tugged within your chest in a painful ache since last year, finally loosens.
Nancy looks at you, her eyes wide. “Me?”
“Mhm,” you nod at the girl, a kind smile on your face.
It’s a monumental shift, you’re willingly encouraging Nancy to be next to Jonathan’s side rather than you. It’s an exchange of powers, trusting her to take care of the boy you love so dearly.
For once, it doesn’t feel like you’re tearing off a piece of yourself. Instead, you’re simply sharing the weight of it, of this trust, rather than losing it.
“I… I think I’ll stay here.” Nancy finally says, looking away in shame.
You don’t blame her, you know she carries a weight of guilt within her for things she couldn’t control. There’s a lot you want to say to her, a lot you have to say to her, but for now you simply nod at her, understanding. “Then I’m happy you’re here.”
And you mean it.
Steve, still quietly standing in the doorway, sees everything. He felt the shift, too.
–
“You should go with him.” Steve picks up a spare heater, he and Nancy have been sent outside to retrieve whatever they could find from the Byers’ yard.
The shift weighs heavily upon him. Your words ring in his ears.
Nancy spares Steve a glance. “What?”
“With Jonathan.” He bends down to dig through some old Christmas lights, and seeing them reminds him of you. Everything reminds him of you. “Y/N’s right. You should go with him.”
“No, I–” Nancy scoffs, uncomfortable. “I’m not just gonna leave Mike.”
Steve thinks about you, about how you’re always the one who stays. “No one’s leaving anyone.” He walks over to Nancy and helps her with a radiator she’s struggling with. “I may be a shitty boyfriend, but… I realized I’m actually a pretty damn good friend and babysitter.”
Though he never says your name, Nancy can feel it hang over the two of them. The unspoken confession that it’s because of you that Steve now accepts what has happened between them. It strikes her then, how different he is now. How differently you and the girl came to know Steve.
Nancy stares at him, her eyes are filled with more remorse than he’s ever seen from the girl. It hurts, seeing her so upset, and he wishes that things could’ve been different. He recognizes now that they didn’t stand a chance, though he’s happy they tried anyways. It was always going to end like this between them.
Steve doesn’t hold any anger towards her, he doesn’t hate her, because he still loves her.
How could you possibly fault the person you love for finding their own love?
“Steve…” His name comes through as an apology.
“It’s okay, Nance.” Steve means it, he gives her the same blessing that you did. She’s allowed to be happy, you both want her to be happy, and you have each other to lean on now. “Y/N and I will be okay.”
He leaves Nancy standing there.
–
You’re waiting to say goodbye to El, standing patiently behind Mike as the two of them make promises about coming back. It’s sweet, watching them, until they slowly start to lean in for what you fear is a kiss, so you intervene.
“Hate to ruin the moment, but I’d like to say goodbye to El, too.”
Mike glares at you. “Couldn’t wait five seconds?”
“A five second kiss is shameful, Wheeler.”
El giggles softly and pulls you into a hug. “I will be careful.”
You kiss her cheek. “Come back this time, okay?”
“I will.”
Hopper calls the girl over to get in the car so they can leave, and you quickly run over to Jonathan’s car before he can get in.
When he sees you approaching, he extends his arms out and pulls you in as he always does. No words are needed, he simply holds you so that you’re chest to chest and he can feel every breath you take. “I’ll come home to you.”
You bury your face in his neck, inhale the scent you’ve come to associate with your childhood and warm, sunny days. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
The words ease between the two of you, finally warm after months of being cold.
Nancy then appears, and when you notice her you break away from Jonathan. “I see you’re joining?”
“I am.” She nods. “Seems I have you to thank.”
You smile and grab her hand. Your grip is firm, but sincere. “Don’t make me regret it, okay?”
Your words are teasing, but Nancy senses the undertones of a warning. Jonathan is your best friend, she has always known this, and she knows how much weight has gone into your trust for her. Nancy understands that you’re giving her something precious to you, and she will forever be indebted for it.
“I won’t.” She promises. “And good luck with Steve and the kids.”
“Oh, I’ll need it.” You laugh, and any remaining tension that has hung over you and Nancy finally disappears.
Once Jonathan and Nancy get into the car, you stand on the porch with Steve and everyone else as you watch the cars drive away.
–
You poke around the Byers’ kitchen for some food; your stomach has been rumbling for hours and you’re sure the kids are hungry, too. However, like usual, you come up with nothing. As you dig through a cabinet, Dustin walks into the kitchen and starts clearing out the fridge.
“What are you doing?” You ask, knowing that this can’t be for anything good.
Dustin doesn’t answer, continuing to carelessly throw racks of food onto the floor.
“Hey, stop!” As you walk over, Steve suddenly comes rushing in, holding a very dead, and very disgusting, Demodog.
“Is this really necessary?”
“Absolutely not.”
Dustin groans at you. “C’mon, Y/N! This is absolutely necessary, it’s a groundbreaking scientific discovery.”
“It is a dead creature, from an alternate universe–”
“We can’t just bury it like some common mammal, okay? It’s not a dog–”
“Oh, so now it’s not a dog after you’ve stated a million times that it’s a Demodog–”
Steve steps in between you and Dustin. “Alright, alright, enough!” He begins to shove the Demodog into the fridge before you can stop him. “But Dustin, you’re explaining this to Mrs. Byers, alright?”
“You both are idiots,” you mumble, watching as Steve and Dustin pathetically try to make the giant Demodog fit into the fridge. “I’m leaving.”
You’re seriously starting to regret their friendship.
However, you know when to pick your battles, and as you watch the two boys try to maneuver the body into the fridge, you know that this is not a cause worth fighting for.
Instead, you exit the kitchen and instruct the rest of the kids to start cleaning the house. It’s a mess, glass shattered everywhere from the dead Demodog and papers thrown haphazardly around during the morse decoding.
The mess will only add more unneeded stress to Joyce’s life, so as Lucas and Max groan at you for making them do work, you stand your ground and shove a broom into their hands.
“You suck, you know.” Lucas grumbles, but Max hits his shoulder and holds the dust pan as he sweeps.
As they get to work on the shattered glass, you figure it’s best that you call your mom before you forget again. You know she’s probably worried sick about you and Dustin for disappearing so suddenly without a word.
However, when you walk over to the wall where the phone normally is, it’s gone.
“Hey, uh. Where did the phone go?” You ask Dustin, who has finally left the kitchen. “I need to call mom.”
“Oh, Nancy threw it when it rang. She went kinda berserk.”
You look towards where Dustin is pointing and see the phone, in fact disconnected, on the ground across the room. The sight makes you snort. “Guess she really likes throwing phones, huh?”
Your brother doesn’t understand the joke. “What?”
“Nevermind,” you shake your head. There’s no use explaining to the boy about a quick, five second moment from last year. Nancy had done the exact same thing when Steve had tried to call the cops when the Demogorgon originally attacked you.
Dustin mumbles something about your blood loss making you delusional, but you ignore him and begin sweeping the hallway. You order him to help, and soon the two of you are cleaning the Byers’ home.
You’ve just finished sweeping when you notice Mike pacing around the room. He’s anxious, that much is obvious, and whenever he begins to pace: trouble soon follows. He’s brewing up a plan, you can feel it.
After the fifth time the boy has paced the room, Lucas has finally had enough. “Mike, would you just stop already?”
“You weren’t in there, okay Lucas?” Mike stops pacing. “That lab is swarming with hundreds of those dogs.”
“Demodogs–oomph!” Dustin corrects, only to be cut off by your hand clamping over his mouth.
“Say it again, I dare you.” You warn him before turning towards Mike. “Look, I know it’s nerve wracking, but all we can do right now is trust El’s abilities and wait.”
Lucas nods. “Yeah, the chief will also take care of her.”
“Like she needs protection.” Max quips from the floor, dustpan still in hand.
You feel a hand place itself on the small of your back. The weight of the palm is starting to become familiar to you, the length of the fingers and the way they splay across the span of your back are slowly becoming recognizable.
Without turning, you know that Steve has joined you.
“Listen, dude,” he says in a placating voice to Mike. “A coach calls a play in a game, bottom line, you execute it. Alright?”
You wince. While you’re impressed that Steve is trying to intervene and reason with Mike, you know immediately that his approach will fail. Trying to reason with the kid using a sport analogy is like trying to explain magic to a mathematician.
“Okay, first of all, this isn’t some stupid sports game.” Mike rolls his eyes, which you expected. “And second, we’re not even in the game. We’re on the bench.”
“RIght! So–so my point… My point is…” Steve stumbles over his words and Mike’s unwavering insistence. When he can’t think of a better response, he lets out a defeated sigh. “Yeah, we’re on the bench, so–uh, there’s nothing we can do.”
You pity Steve, honestly. It takes years of careful analyzing and strategic planning in order to prepare yourself for an argument against Mike Wheeler.
Patting his shoulder, step in to help. “What I’m sure Steve means is that while we may be benched, that doesn’t mean we can’t keep the homefront secure.”
“That’s not how sports work, Y/N.” Steve whispers obscenely loud, but quickly shuts up when you glare at him.
“Stupid sports analogy aside, there’s nothing we can do besides keep watch here and wait for everyone to return.” Even though you know you’re saying the right thing, that it’s best you follow Hopper’s order of staying put, even you don’t believe the words you’re saying. “We may not be able to help right now, but later, I promise we will be the best damn homefront ever.”
Dustin clears his throat. “That’s not entirely true.”
You turn to him and a sigh escapes you when you see the plan already forming behind his eyes. “I can’t argue with you, can I?”
“Nope.”
“Great, go on then. Share with the class what you’re thinking.”
“I mean, these Demodogs, they have a hive mind.” Dustin begins. “When they ran away from the bus, they were called away.”
Lucas thinks about this. “So if we get their attention…”
“Maybe we can draw them away from the lab.” Max concludes, and you take a second to marvel at how seamlessly she’s integrated herself into the party.
However, you then remember what Lucas said. “Wait, what do you mean by ‘get their attention’? Why do those words scare me so much?”
Mike talks over you. “We can clear a path to the gate.”
You have a multitude of questions and Steve seems to be thinking exactly what you are when he loudly exclaims, “Yeah, and then we all die!”
“That’s one point of view.”
“Dustin, that’s quite literally the only way to look at it.” You flick his hat and he swats your hand away.
Steve points at you, nodding in agreement. “That’s a fact.”
“Thanks, Steve–” Mike’s body slams into yours as he runs past you. “Christ, Wheeler!”
“I got it!” The boy shrieks, running out of the room as he wordlessly instructs everyone to follow. He kneels in front of the fridge and points wildly at one of the pictures Will has drawn. “This is where the chief dug his hole, this is our way into the tunnel.”
“Into? What do you mean into?”
Mike shoves past you again and runs into the living room. “Here, right here.” He stands in the middle, where all the pictures have interlocked together to form a center. “This is like a hub. So, you got all the tunnels feeding in here. Maybe if we set this on fire…”
“Fire?” You shriek as Steve quickly follows with, “Oh, yeah that’s a no!”
Dustin, however, is on board with what Mike is planning. “The mind flayer would call away his army.”
“They’d all come to stop us!” Lucas waves his arms madly at you, as if saying this will get you to agree to the plan that’s forming.
You throw your hands up in surrender. “Look, I recognize that we could maybe do something–”
“Hey!” Steve looks astonished that you’re even considering this.
“I mean, if we can help then I don’t see why we can’t just–”
Mike shakes your arm now, deciding that your hesitation is an agreement. “We then can circle back to the exit! By the time they realize we’re gone–”
“El would be at the gate!” Max now also is looking at you. “C’mon, Y/N. You have to admit that it’s a solid plan.”
You bite your lip. It is. That’s the problem with the Wheelers. They come up with these insanely dangerous and insane plans, yet they’re also always brilliant. You know it’s risky, Hopper could barely even explain the tunnels to you without shaking in fear, but… Who’s to say that the Demodogs won’t simply go after Will and Jonathan at the cabin? Or kill Hopper and El before they even reach the lab.
It’s obvious you can’t just sit here and wait.
El has to close the gate, that much is certain, and because of this: you have to help her. You have to help everyone, keep them safe.
“It’s a solid plan,” you finally breathe out, and all the kids start to cheer.
“I knew you were my favorite sister!”
“Dustin, I’m your only sister–”
“Hey! Hey–” Steve pushes himself in between you and the kids, clapping his hands to break up any further conversations. “Hey! This is not happening.”
Mike tries to argue, “But–”
“No, no, no!” Steve places his hands on his hips like a disgruntled father. “No buts. I promised I’d keep you shitheads safe, and that’s exactly what I plan on doing.”
You don’t like the way Steve is speaking to the kids, commanding them as if he’s their parent. “Hey, no. We aren’t doing that.”
“Doing what?” He looks at you, eyes wide as he quickly gathers that he’s upset you. The fight in his voice is gone, replaced with quiet guilt.
“We don’t ever command the kids, not like that, anyways.” You step away from them and pull Steve aside with you to give the two of you some privacy. “Look, I know you promised Nance you’d take care of them, but I also promised Jonathan. We have to help, Steve.”
His face twists with confliction, and the two of you are caught between what Nancy wants and what Jonathan wants. They both want the kids to be safe, but they have different viewpoints of how they expect you and Steve to do so.
Nancy wants to keep her brother out of it, Jonathan wants to save his brother’s life.
“Y/N…” Steve breathes out, begging you to change your mind.
The confliction on his face hurts to look at, you hate that you’ve made him feel this way, but you can only shake your head at him. “I’m sorry, but we’re doing this.”
“Yes!” Mike rushes over to you and surprises you with a hug. “This is why I keep you around!”
“Okay, no.” You push the kid away and hold him by the shoulders to ensure he listens to you. “That doesn’t mean I think we should all go down into the tunnels. I’ll go, and Steve will stay here with you guys–”
“What? No! You’re not going down there by yourself, Y/N.” Steve doesn’t understand how you would expect him to ever let you do that. “We’re all on the bench, okay? We’re waiting for the starting team to do their job.”
“This isn’t a stupid sports game.” Mike groans in annoyance before focusing his attention back to you. “And no one in the party gets left behind. If you go, we all go.”
The sincerity in Mike’s voice warms you. He’s defending you, protecting you how you’ve always protected him, and you’ve never been more impressed with his bravery; it’s because of this, his bravery and admiration for you, that you know you have to go into the tunnels alone.
It would kill you if Mike got hurt, if any of the kids got hurt.
Steve sees the way your eyes shine at Mike’s words and his stomach twists. He knows he can’t change your mind about going alone, he knows you’d never, ever let anyone get hurt. That you’d lay down your life for these kids and those you love.
The bloodied cloth wrapped around your rib cage reminds Steve that he’s a part of it all now. You have laid down your life for him.
And he’s never, ever going to let you get hurt because of him again.
Steve steps forward and gently grabs your arm, he needs you to understand how much your selflessness terrifies him in this moment. “Y/N–”
The revving of an engine cuts him off.
It’s a familiar sound. You’ve heard this car before. The sound of it has seared itself into your memories. The hair on your arms stands up, and within seconds Max is at the window, looking out in fear.
“It’s my brother.” Max’s voice is terrified. Not even in the junkyard, when Demodogs had been raining down on you and the kids, had you heard such terror in the girl’s voice. “He can’t know I’m here.”
You’re at her side in a heartbeat, tugging her away from the window. You’ve seen the way Billy acts around Max, you remember the harshness he displayed in the parking lot. The same harshness that left bruises on your waist when he had you pinned against the wall on Halloween. “I won’t let him touch you.”
Your words have a bite to them. Max hears the oath within them, she has never believed anyone when they’ve told her this. “He’ll kill me. He’ll kill us.”
“He won’t.” You promise her, trying to control the pure rage you feel because of her brother. He can do whatever the fuck he wants with you, but he’s hurt Max for the last time.
Steve watches your exchange with Max and feels his hands clench into fists. Anger fizzes through his body. As you console the girl, your eyes meet his and he nods. With one simple head movement, the two of you have silently agreed to do whatever it takes to ensure that Billy never hurts Max ever again.
–
“Am I dreaming or is that you, Harrington?”
You’re standing behind Steve.
Billy hasn’t seen you yet.
“Yeah, it’s me. Don’t cream your pants.” Steve’s hand tightens around your arm as he guides you further behind him. He doesn’t like that you’re here with him. He hates the way Billy’s eyes roam over your body without any shame.
But you insisted on coming outside, and Steve has never been able to tell you no.
You step out from behind Steve and force your hands to rest by your side in nonchalance. “God, I was hoping you’d be allergic to milk.”
Billy raises his eyebrows when he sees you; you’ve surprised him. “Why, it’s always a pleasure seeing you, sweetheart.”
Steve’s clenched fists only tighten when he hears Billy’s nickname for you. He hates the implications behind it, the way he says it with such sickly sweetness that leaves Steve’s stomach feeling raw.
He can’t imagine how you feel whenever you hear it, and it only makes Steve hate Billy more.
“It’s never a pleasure for me.” You cross your arms as Billy now stands in front of you and Steve.
The teen laughs darkly and eyes Steve up and down. “What are you doing here, amigo?”
“I could ask you the same thing… Amigo.” His voice carries an air of indifference, but you know that tomorrow there will be indentations in Steve’s palms from his fingernails.
“Looking for my stepsister.” Billy lights a cigarette and smirks at you. “A little birdie told me she was here.”
“Huh, that’s weird. I don’t know her.”
Billy smirks at Steve’s words and motions over to you. “Yeah, but this little lady does.”
“Max isn’t here.” You say, forcing your anger down to play along with Steve’s indifference. “Have you checked the quarry? A lot of kids like to hang out there.”
Smoke surrounds you as Billy responds, “Don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Henderson.”
With every dodged question, you’re only angering the teen more. If you and Steve keep this up, you’ll only make everything harder to manage. You try to think of something to distract Billy, but all you know about him is that he’s a sleazy pig with a cigarette addiction.
Then, it hits you.
His weird fascination with you.
If you use it against him, maybe you can get him away from the Byers’ house long enough for Steve and the kids to leave.
You step closer to Billy, ignoring every part of you that screams in rejection. You’re covered in blood and your hair is probably a mess, but you bat your eyelashes anyways and quirk your head up at Billy with an innocent smile. “I could show you, if you want.”
Just as you hoped, your sudden interest in him catches Billy’s attention. He presses his chest against yours and looks down at you, a pleased smile on his face. “And what would you be showing me, sweetheart?”
“The quarry, silly.” You giggle, trying not to gag at the reek of cigarette smoke. “It’s secluded… No one really goes down there. It’s, well–this is embarrassing.”
You duck your head down and act as if you’re blushing. Billy takes the bait and uses his fingers to lift your head up to look at him again. “Go on, tell me.”
You make a show of biting your lip. “Well, it’s where every teen in Hawkins goes to… Be alone.”
Billy’s eyes darken again, even more interested in what you have to say. He leans down, his lips inches from yours, and you know you have him right where you want him.
Please, you think. I just want to protect the kids.
His breath fans across your face and he’s about to agree, to have you lead him away and forget all about his bitch of a sister, when Steve roughly pushes him away from you.
“Max isn’t here, man.” He spits out, his once controlled anger now spilling over the edge.
You want to scream at him, you almost had Billy. He was seconds away from agreeing, and the stupid idiot pushes him away from you?
Billy looks between you and Steve and lets out a low chuckle. “Sorry, Harrington. Forgot that she’s yours.”
Steve moves as if to hit him but you quickly grab at his jacket, stopping him. Billy sees this and laughs again.
“You know, I don’t know… This whole situation, Harrington.” He shrugs, exhales more smoke. “I don’t know. It’s giving me the heebie-jeebies.”
“Oh yeah, why’s that?”
You’re silent, hand still clutching Steve’s jacket.
Billy exhales more smoke. “My thirteen year old sister goes missing all day, and then I find her with you in a stranger’s house, alongside Y/N Henderson, the town’s darling, all bloodied and bruised. And you lie to me about it.”
From an outsider’s perspective, you hate how much Billy makes sense.
To anyone else, this would look incredibly incriminating against Steve.
Yet, Steve still tries to deny it all. “Man, were you dropped too much as a child, or what?”
“I’m assuming he was.” You voice, looking nervously at Billy as he seems to grow more and more volatile.
“I don’t know what you don’t understand about what Y/N and I have told you. Max isn’t here.”
Billy leans in close to Steve and points with his cigarette towards the house. “Then who is that?”
You and Steve turn, and your heart drops when you see Max and the boys all quickly duck their heads out of the window.
“Shit,” you breathe out, knowing it’s over.
You really hate those kids sometimes.
“Listen,” Steve tries to make up some excuse, but Billy roughly shoves him to the ground.
“I told you to plant your feet.” Bully sneers as he looms over him. You try to help Steve up, but you’re pushed aside as Billy then stomps on Steve’s ankle with a sickening crunch that makes your own wounded ankle sting.
As he storms towards the house, you quickly help Steve up, He pushes you away. “I’ll be fine, go help the kids!”
“But–”
You can’t just leave Steve while he’s hurt, but every time you try to help him up, he bats your hand away.
“Go!”
From inside the house, you hear the kids start to scream, and you reluctantly leave Steve behind and run inside. When you enter, Billy already has Lucas pinned against the wall as all the kids scream at him to let the boy go. Lucas is hitting at the teen’s chest desperately, but nothing is working.
“Stay away from her.” Billy spits in the boy’s face, who is paralyzed with fear.
“Lucas!” You all but throw yourself onto Billy’s back as you begin hitting and pulling his hair. Anything you can think of, you try, but it’s no use. With Billy’s size and build, you’re nothing but a fucking bug to him.
“I said get off of me!” Lucas kneels Billy in the groin, sending you and the teen flying back, but at least he’s let go of Lucas.
You let go of Billy and place yourself between him and the boy, your breath comes out ragged. You don’t know what you’re supposed to be doing. All your mind can think of right now is protecting the kids, but in the midst of screaming and exhaustion and blood loss, you can’t think of anything.
Billy tries to get to Lucas again, his teeth bared with fury. “You’re so dead, Sinclair. So dead!”
In your exhaustion and fear, you call out for the only person you can think of. “Steve!”
He’s at your side in a heartbeat, quickly looking at you to make sure you’re okay, before he flings Billy away from you and Lucas. “No, you are!”
Steve’s punch lands perfectly, with a precision far from his pathetic punches thrown last year against Jonathan. It’s incredibly hot.
Billy begins to laugh in a manic manner that frightens you, but all of his attention is now on Steve, so you use this opportunity to drag Lucas over to the rest of the kids and make sure everyone is okay.
You trust that Steve has everything else handled, but you make sure to keep an eye on him anyways while you take care of the kids.
“Are you okay?” You check Lucas over for any injuries, who numbly nods as he’s still in shock, while Billy screams something about always wanting to meet King Steve.
“Get out.” Despite Steve’s leveled voice, his tone is vicious.
Billy swings again, but Steve manages to duck just in time before he lands yet another punch to the boy’s face.
“Yes!” Dustin shouts with glee, but you remember the fight from last year. How Steve had lost miserably against Jonathan. A boy half of Billy’s size.
While you’re impressed with Steve’s fighting improvement, you’re not sure how longer he’ll be able to keep this up. When more punches land on Billy and all he does is laugh menacingly, you know you don’t have a lot of time left.
You’re fucking terrified.
The kids are still cheering Steve on when you turn to them, panicked. “You guys need to leave. Now.”
“What? But Steve’s winning!” Dustin says as Steve’s fist connects with Billy’s jaw.
The sound makes you feel sick.
You’re pleading now, terror clawing at your throat as you do so; your words slur together. “Leave, sneak out, and–and go through the front door and hide. Get help, okay? Just, go and find someone while Steve and I handle this–”
The sound of glass breaking against Steve’s head alerts you that your time is up.
Billy hadn't been fighting back before. But now? He’s angrier than you’ve ever seen him.
As Steve stumbles back in pain, you try pleading with the kids again. You don’t want them to see any more of this, of what might be about to happen. This isn’t just some fight between two teen boys. You know Billy better than that.
He’s out for fucking blood.
“Dustin, take everyone outside now!”
“We can’t just leave you!” Mike shouts and the others all nod.
You want to cry. “We don’t have time for this, just–”
“Shit!” Dustin knocks against you as he dodges a punch meant for Steve.
Steve crashes into the Byers’ bookshelf and you’re practically shoving the kids out of the door so that you can go and help, but they refuse to leave you and Steve behind.
Billy has Steve by his jacket. “No one tells me what to do.”
With a sickening thud, he bashes his head into Steve’s and sends him flying to the ground.
“Steve!” There’s blood pooling from his head and you’re gripped by fear so intense that you’re afraid you’ll pass out any second.
Billy is relentless, now standing over Steve as he lands punch after punch. Every time his fists slam against Steve’s face, you feel them land against yours as well. Billy’s screaming like a fucking maniac and none of the kids are listening to you and Steve is getting bloodier by the second.
You’re torn.
Dustin and the kids are staring at you, eyes wide with fear, and the front door is open; you could take the kids and run, but Steve is lying motionless on the ground.
It’s either him or the kids.
And yet it’s the easiest decision you’ve made all night.
“Get off of him!” You throw yourself onto Billy’s back for the second time tonight.
You yank at his hair and try to scratch his face, but within seconds Billy throws you over his shoulder. “You demented bitch.”
Your head catches on the edge of a coffee table and you land with a thud on the ground. Almost immediately you feel blood drip from your eyebrow and you groan. Fuck. Definitely another concussion, but when you look over at Steve, he looks worse than you feel, and you force yourself to get up.
Billy watches as you pathetically try to stand, and he laughs with cruelty. “What, want some more, sweetheart?”
More blood drips down your face and you feel the scratches on your rib cage re-open. Every bone in your body aches, but you pull out your switchblade and extend its knives. Your fingers skim over the engraving on its handle, reminding you to use the weapon with love.
“This is your last chance.” You clutch at your side, hoping you look more intimidating than you feel. “Leave my family alone.”
Billy sees your knives and laughs at you. “Am I expected to believe that you’d actually hurt me?”
Your grip tightens around your switchblade. No one ever believes that you could be so cruel, so vicious. Billy is looking at you as if you’re some pathetic little girl, as if you haven’t killed Demodogs and Demogorgons. He’s looking at you as if you aren’t the sole reason everyone you know and love is alive.
You were once told to use the switchblade with love, that there was never any room for love when it came to violence.
Now, as the kids are screaming at you to run and the pool of blood around Steve continues to grow, the onslaught of love that is always within you overtakes the fear.
“I warned you.” With one quick movement, you swat at Billy and cut deeply into his shoulder.
He lets out an enraged scream and instinctively his fist goes flying. Pain erupts in your left eye and you know that you’ll have the worst time ever trying to explain to your mom later how you got a black eye.
“Fuck!” You groan, dodging every other punch that Billy throws your way as he starts to approach you. With one eye quickly swelling up and the other blinded by blood, you do your best to stumble away from Billy, but it’s no use.
Your foot catches on the carpet and almost as quickly as you fall, Billy is right there to wrap his hands around your throat and squeeze. You inhale sharply and panic overtakes you as you claw at his hands, drawing blood from him as well, but his fingers only tighten.
“Y/N!” Dustin’s vocal chords strain from how loud he screams your name.
Billy seems to get a kick out of hearing your brother plead for your life, and he squeezes even tighter as you flail. “Not so tough now, are you?”
You struggle to free yourself, to do anything, but you can’t.
For the first time since Will went missing, you truly believe that you’re about to die.
Steve is practically dead on the ground below you, he’s bleeding so much from his head that you’re terrified he’ll never wake up, and the kids are defenseless as they scream with tears in their eyes.
Your baby brother is about to watch you die.
Spots begin to form in your vision and it’s getting harder and harder to move your limbs. To make them do as you command.
You know it’s your brain shutting down from the lack of oxygen.
I hope Jonathan doesn’t blame himself.
Your world fades to black.
Billy screams.
And you feel your body drop to the ground.
–
The first time you wake up, it’s to Dustin huffing as he tugs at your arm. “God, you’re heavier than you look.”
You promptly pass back out.
The second time, it’s dark outside and you register that you’re cold, but your eyes sting and you’re out again.
You wake up a few more times, always in a daze, and never more for a few seconds at a time, before the feeling that you’re moving wakes you up for good.
It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the dark, your left eye barely even opens, and the pounding in your head is blinding in itself. Blinking a few times, you look down and finally notice that Steve is sprawled on your lap. You’re in the backseat of someone’s car.
Your head is resting against someone’s shoulder. When you try to lift it to see who it is, you feel someone gently guide your head back down. “Shh, it’s okay. Don’t move too fast, alright? Don’t want you yacking on us.”
“Dustin?” You immediately regret trying to speak. Your voice comes out hoarse and raw and the pain is so intense that it only makes your head pound more.
“Right here, sis. Try not to speak, you sound like a frog.”
You try to sit up again, forgetting that Steve is sprawled on top of you, and your movements cause him to wake up. When his eyes manage to blink open, he tilts his head at you and mumbles, “Nancy?”
“Wha–” Again your voice cracks and you feel so delirious. Are you Nancy?
Steve attempts to wipe away the blood on his face but Dustin stops him with a gentle chiding. “No, don’t touch it.”
Steve brings a shaky hand up to your face and carefully rests it against your cheek. “You’re… You’re bleeding.”
Dustin puts the hand down. “Hey, buddy. Y/N is bleeding, good job. You’re bleeding, too. It’s okay though, you put up a good fight. I mean, he kicked your ass but you put up a good fight.”
Your brother’s words ring in your ears. He’s saying so much and you’re trying to swallow down the vomit that threatens to spill out.
“Okay, you’re gonna keep straight for half a mile, then make a left on Mount Sinai.” A voice rings out, one different from Dustin’s.
Was that Lucas?
“What’s going on?” Steve slurs, trying to process everything happening. He blearily looks back up at you. “Who’s driving?”
“Not me,” you manage to croak out.
A beat of silence passes.
Then, at the same time, you and Steve realize: Max is the one driving.
You’re more awake now and you try to say more, but your throat has swollen shut from speaking and it feels like it’s on fire.
Thankfully, Steve is here to say everything you can’t. “Oh my god!”
“Just relax, she’s driven before.” Dustin reassures, slapping your hand away when you try to reach over to the driver’s side.
“Yeah, in a parking lot.” Mike says, and you notice he’s also here now.
“That counts.”
You want to scream at Max to pull over and demand the keys from her, but your bruised throat prevents you while your bleeding rib cage traps you in. While you can’t say anything, all Steve can say is, “Oh my god.”
“They were gonna leave you guys behind–”
“Oh my god.”
“But I promised that you’d be cool, okay?” Again Dustin slaps your hand away and all but shoves his leg over you so that you remain seated.
Max then presses down on the gas pedal and the car increases its speed, which only makes the entire situation worse.
Steve, rightfully, freaks out. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! What’s going on? Stop the car, slow down!”
You twist in your seat and blindly grab at Steve’s hand, both thanking him for voicing all that you can’t and also to try and prevent the poor boy from passing out again.
“I told you he’d freak out! At least Y/N shut up!” Mike shouts over at Dustin.
While you’re flattered that you’re officially cooler than Steve in Mike’s eyes, if you had a functioning throat right now, you’d be letting out some very choice words.
“Stop the car!” Steve screams again, but the little rainbow bandaids on his cheek take away from his commanding nature.
You hope that Dustin at least chose some pretty bandaids for your face.
“Everybody shut up! I’m trying to focus!” Again, Max doesn’t at all help the situation at hand.
“Wait, that’s Mount Sinai. Make a left!” Lucas points to where Max needs to go and you wonder why they trusted the girl, who just moved to Hawkins a week ago, to know where to go.
“What?”
“Make a left!” Lucas screams, and Max quickly yanks the car to the left.
You, Steve, and the kids all scream as she hits what you hope is a mailbox. As the car jerks, you topple onto Steve and let out a painful, weird mix of a croak and shriek as the car continues to turn. Dustin tries to steady himself against you as he screams and Steve fully grabs your waist and uses you to shield himself from danger.
What a hero.
Then, you almost go flying out of the windshield as Max suddenly stops the car.
“Hello!” Steve exclaims, gripping you tightly still.
Dustin giggles. “Whoa!”
“Incredible,” Mike breathes out.
Meanwhile, you think your heart fell out of your ass about five blocks ago.
“I told you. Zoomer.” Max smirks with pride.
“She terrifies me,” you whisper, and Steve nods in agreement.
The kids begin getting out of the car and seem to have some unspoken plan being set into motion. Dustin pats your shoulder before leaving you behind with Steve as the others go towards the trunk.
Not knowing what the fuck is happening, you kick Steve so that he falls off of you and onto the grass so that you can follow after your brother. When you get out the car, you march over towards where all the kids are standing and silently demand an explanation.
Mike notices you first. “What? Cat got your tongue?”
You refrain from shoving his face in the mud and point towards the goggles he’s holding. He sighs and hands it to you while Dustin ties a bandana around your neck and Max grabs a gallon of gasoline.
Seems like they’re sticking to the plan from earlier, then.
When Steve realizes this, as he is gripping onto the car for dear life, he whines. “Oh, no. Guys.”
Everyone ignores him and he continues to try to stop what’s happening. You hobble over to him, a new wave of nausea and pain washing over you, and lean against him helplessly. There’s no use trying to explain to him that the party won’t listen. For now, you simply relish in his presence and enjoy how he feels against you.
“We are not going down there right now!” Steve, though gentle to not jostle you around too much, waves his hands in the air as he screams at Max. “I made myself clear. There is no chance we’re going to that hole, alright?”
Similar to last year, Steve begins to spiral in his fear. He wraps his arms around you and places you against the car before he runs over to Dustin and throws that backpack that’s in the kid’s hands. “This is not happening!”
You slowly walk over and grab the thrown backpack, hoping that Dustin can reason with the teen.
“Steve, you’re upset. I get it, but the bottom line is that a party member requires assistance and it is our duty to provide that assistance.” When you join Dustin’s side, he helps you put the goggles on and brings your bandana up over your mouth. “Now, I know you promised Nance that you would keep us safe. So keep us safe.”
He hands Steve the backpack you retrieved.
Steve looks between you and your brother. You both look absolutely ridiculous in your get up, and he knows he has no other choice but to agree. His eyes meet yours and he silently asks if you’re sure about this, he will always look to you for the answers.
You nod, hoping that the small head shift is conveying what you physically cannot say.
I’m here, the kids need us, and I need you with me.
Steve hears it, sighs, and grabs the backpack from your hands.
“Well, let’s get going.” He motions for you and Dustin to lead the way.
–
“I got you,” Steve’s voice is soft as his hands graze your waist. He’s standing below you, already having jumped into the tunnels so that he can help you climb down the rope safely. You’re not sure if it’s his touch, or the way his voice drips with promises to protect you, or the simple fact that you’re bleeding and bruised that makes your body weak.
“Drop me and die.” Your knuckles are white as they clutch the rope, your body shaking with exhaustion as you try to ease your way down without further injuring your ribs.
Steve laughs and tightens his grip on your waist, steadying you as you finally inch the rest of the way down and land with a gentle thud onto the ground. “Like I’d ever dream of letting you go.”
This time, you know it’s his words that cause you to shiver, not the exhaustion and pain.
“Ahem.”
Turning around, you see Dustin glaring at you and Steve while Lucas is stifling laughs. You roll your eyes at them and step away so that you aren’t standing so close to Steve, and he seems to think the same and distances himself as well.
“Holy shit,” Steve breathes out, now finally examining the tunnels.
It takes your breath away as well. The tunnels are terrifying, but oddly kind of cool. There’s a dim light within them, almost ghostly, and yet it’s beautiful in a way that you can’t quite describe. Small particles float through the air, and you reach your hand out to feel them against your skin. It tickles, akin to snowflakes, and the reminder makes you yearn for winter again.
Mike’s flashlight distracts you as he shines it towards a random section of the tunnel. “Yeah. I’m pretty sure it’s this way.”
“You’re pretty sure, or you’re certain?” Dustin asks, doubtful.
“I’m 100% sure, just follow me and you’ll know.”
As soon as Mike’s declaration of leading leaves his lips, you and Steve share and look and immediately stumble towards the boy.
Like hell you’re letting him lead. He’s a child, and he’s also incredibly horrible at navigating. Last time you let him guide the way, you ended up finding El in the middle of the woods.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Steve flashes his light at Mike. “I don’t think so.”
“What?”
“Any of you little shits die down here, I’m getting the blame. Got it, dipshit?” Steve takes the map from Mike’s hands and then looks over at you. “I guide, you take the rear?”
You nod. “Good luck.”
Steve smiles, his sarcastic bravado now gone, before he suddenly clears his throat once more and shouts. “From here on out, I’m leading the way while Y/N makes sure none of you idiots get lost. Come on.”
The kids groan and roll their eyes at him, but they fall into line and do as they’re told.
Dustin walks in front of you and offers you his hand. He knows the uneven terrain will only increase the chances of your ankle acting up. “How’s the ankle?”
“Hurts,” you rasp, accepting his hand as you hobble along. He hums and helps you navigate, the goggles covering his nose makes him sound nasally. “Did I put up a good fight at least?”
Your throat strains to get all the words out, but Dustin seems to understand what you’ve said and laughs. “Yeah, you did a much better job than Steve–What the hell?”
Dustin stops walking and suddenly looks up. Unsure what he’s seen, you look up as well and gasp. Above you rests a giant flower-bud looking thing, except it’s pulsing in a very concerning and gross way and is the size of a car. When it starts to expand even larger, you realize before your brother does what it’s about to do; you tug at his hand and try to run away, but Dustin doesn’t move.
Then, in one grand blow, the bud explodes and releases what you can only imagine are pollen spores, and they spray all over Dustin. “Shit!” He falls to the ground, screaming and rolling around as if he’s just been shot, and all you can do is stand there and silently wait for him to calm down enough for you to talk to him. “Help! Y/N, help!”
You motion to your throat, but Dustin gags and scrambles to stand up before promptly falling back down again in his haste.
Steve and the others have now joined and everyone is crowding over your brother with worry. “Dustin? What happened?”
“Pollen.” You croak, and Steve looks even more confused now.
“It’s in my mouth!” Dustin spits onto the ground and coughs, wheezing every few breaths. “Some of it got on my mouth. Shit!”
Mike points his flashlight at you. “Any more useful insight from Kermit the frog?”
You glare at him, although the nickname is funny and you hate that it’s clever. You clear your throat, cringe at the sting it sends down your body, and respond, “Rose-bud thing. Exploded. He’s fine.”
Everyone tilts their head at you, not at all understanding what you’re trying to say, and you groan. It’s incredibly frustrating that Billy left you unable to say a goddamn thing without immeasurable pain. You honestly would’ve preferred that he stab you or something, because your intelligence and wit are so crucial to who you are as a person.
Plus the whole Kermit the frog thing kind of sucks, regardless of how funny it will be later.
“I’m fine.” Dustin gasps out. “As Y/N said, a rose-bud thing sprayed me.”
“You guys serious?” Max shakes her head, at a loss for why she’s even here.
“Very funny, man.” Steve looks at you and teases, “And Y/N, I expected more from you.”
You give him the finger. “Dustin, not me.”
“Mhm,” he’s starting to walk away again, resuming his leader position through the tunnels, but he sends you a wink. “C’mon, Hendersons.”
The rest of the kids follow after him while you help Dustin up and wipe him off. He’s a mess, and he’s clearly still frightened, but he seems reassured by your presence and begins to calm down. When he’s ready, you and Dustin follow.
The tunnels are long, windy, and incredibly disturbing to be in. You can’t believe that something this intricate and vast has been laying underneath Hawkins for god knows how long. The ground beneath your feet is squishy and it takes both Dustin’s hand and immense concentration to not trip.
Steve leads, his flashlight serving as a beacon to focus on despite the pounding in your head. The bandana tied over your nose only makes the ringing in your ears worse, but you’ll leave inhaling mysterious Upside Down particles to your brother.
After a few minutes of walking, you’re starting to fear that the poorly drawn map from Mike really is just a poorly drawn map. Then, Steve stops. “Alright, Wheeler. I think we found your hub.”
You flick your flashlight around and your eyes widen. It’s huge. In the center lies a mound of what you hope is just mud, but you see a bone or two stick out from it and look away. To your left, there’s easily five or six more tunnels, each varying in width and height, and to your right is the same.
Seeing how vast the tunnel system is, you’re thankful for Mike’s genius little brain.
“Let’s drench it!” Except the vigor in his voice frightens you and you consider that he may be the world’s next mad scientist.
However, a plan is a plan and you’ve already made it this far, so you set to work on spraying the area with gasoline. Between you, Steve, and the kids, within minutes you’ve created the world’s most flammable labyrinth.
When you’re done, Steve guides the kids back towards the exit and you make sure everyone’s behind the two of you. He kneels, flicks out his lighter, and turns to everyone. “Alright, you guys ready?”
“Ready,” Max and Lucas say.
Dustin tightens his hand around yours, preparing to help you run as fast as you can with your ankle. “Light her up.”
Steve flicks his lighter open. “I am in such deep shit.”
“Together.” You nudge him with your shoe, and even though his face is hidden, you know he smiles.
He takes a deep breath, winds his arm back, and flings the lighter into the center of the hub.
Immediately everything bursts into flames. In the blaze, the strange roots that had been lying dormant on the ground now come to life as they flail against the heat. They twist and whip around, writhing in pain. The tunnels themselves almost seem to come to life as it writhes in pain.
“Go, go, go!” Steve yells, pushing everyone back to start running.
You stay behind with him, making sure all the kids have started to run before you finally let Dustin tug you along as well. The boy is screaming, hopping and dodging roots as best as he can while squealing, “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!”
Steve takes the lead now, having somehow memorized the way out. “Let’s go!”
You’re disoriented. Dustin’s hand is gripping yours so harshly and it’s taking everything within you to keep up, but your ankle throbs and your left eye has only continued to swell from the punch earlier. It’s becoming increasingly difficult to follow along, and in your disorientation you lose track of Mike.
When he falls, everything within you snaps back into focus. You tear your hand from Dustin’s and you’re at Mike’s side in a heartbeat, but already the roots have started to wrap around his leg; he screams. “Help! Y/N, help me!”
Your hands shake as you reach for your switchblade, adrenaline runs through you so violently that you feel lightheaded. Mike’s screams are the only thing keeping you grounded right now. As he panics, you roughly grab his shirt and force him back before you start to hack at the root with your knives.
“Pull him back!” Steve instructs the kids, who have now joined. “Y/N, watch out!”
You have just enough time to cut through one root before dodging Steve’s bat as he hits at the other. It takes a few swings, but with one final blow, you and the kids are able to pull Mike free and help him stand back up.
“You good?” Lucas pants, patting MIke’s shoulders for any injuries while Dustin asks, “You okay?”
You pull Mike into you and quickly hug him, damning whatever time constraint you currently have against you. Your hands are still shaking, which Mike feels, and he gives you a quick pat before pulling away. “Glad you care, but–”
“We gotta go!” Steve steps between you two, bat still in hand, when a growl erupts from behind him.
Dustin shoves everyone behind him before you can stop him. He’s recognized the growl before you have. “Dart.”
The Demodog growls again. He’s bigger than ever before, now practically fully grown. His growth distracts you long enough to miss Dustin slowly starting to approach him. When you do, you immediately try to stop him.
“Dustin–” Fear overtakes you.
“Steve, hold her back.” He orders. “Just trust me, okay?”
Steve’s arms wrap around you and you try to fight back. “No–”
“Y/N,” he whispers into your ear, keeping an eye on your brother as well. “If you freak out now, Dustin will get hurt.”
He’s right, you know he’s right, but your brother is only a foot away from Dart now and he’s now smaller than the creature. One wrong move, and he’s dead.
Dustin kneels in front of Dart and you feel your heart drop. You don’t dare breathe as he takes off his goggles and mask and leans in closer to the creature. “Hey, it’s me. It’s just your friend, it’s Dustin.”
Dart slowly inches forward as Dustin continues to talk. “You remember me? Will you let us pass?”
This time, Dart’s entire mouth opens as he snarls at Dustin.
Again you struggle in Steve’s arms, but he only tightens his hold on you as you watch your baby brother, terrified, face off against the Demodog.
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry.” Dustin lowers his voice, unwavering against Dart’s malice. “I’m sorry about the storm cellar. That was a pretty douchy thing to do. I blame Y/N, she’s always the one who makes me do the right thing.”
The little shit has you scared out of your fucking mind, and yet he has the nerve to somehow make this your fault.
If he gets out of this alive, you’re never, ever letting him go again.
Dustin reaches into his backpack, eyes never leaving Dart. “You hungry?
“He’s insane,” Lucas whispers in awe. Both you and Steve tell him to shut up, scared that any noise will cause Dart to attack.
“I’ve got our favorite.” Dustin waves the candy in front of Dart’s face. “See? Nougat.”
As soon as the Demodog sees the candy bar, his demeanor shifts and he happily approaches Dustin. Within seconds, your brother has managed to re-tame his weird Upside Down pet, and for a brief second you feel bad that Dustin can’t keep him.
“Look at that. Yummy!” He places the candy on the ground as a peace offering and he starts to motion behind him, waving for you and everyone else to start moving. “Eat up, buddy.”
Steve guides Lucas, Max, and Mike past Dart and through the tunnel that was previously blocked by him, but you stay behind. Your knives are drawn; you’re not leaving your brother’s side.
“There’s plenty,” Dustin coos to the creature, placing down one last candy bar before standing up. When he sees that you’re still there, he grabs your hand and starts to walk away with you. Feeling his hand, warm and alive against yours, is enough to calm you down enough to follow. Before the two of you leave, however, Dustin turns around one last time to look at Dart, a sad smile on his face. “Goodbye, buddy.”
Dart doesn’t show any reaction, too busy devouring the candy he’s been given, and you gently tug Dustin along to safety, albeit with some guilt. He really loved that little lizard thing.
As soon as the two of you are out of danger, you pull Dustin into a bone crushing hug. “You’re stupid.”
“Stupid brave,” he mumbles against you, though his arms are tight against your waist. He had been scared, too.
You snort and pull your bandana down so you can kiss the top of Dustin’s head. “Just stupid.”
“Guys, we gotta go.” Steve whispers, feeling bad for interrupting your moment with the kid. He can still feel the way your body shook in his arms, how he could hear your terrified heartbeat as he held you back. He felt horrible for doing it, but he promised Nancy he’d keep the kids safe, and Steve knows that she also wanted him to protect you, too.
At Steve’s urgent whisper, you reluctantly nod and pull away from Dustin. With one last shoulder squeeze, you pat his back and tug at his hand to start running. As you run, the ground trembles beneath your feet. You’re the first one to fall, Max and Lucas not far behind. “Fuck!”
Steve has your hand within his in seconds and he gently pulls you up. His face is obscured from the goggles and banana, yet you can see the concern when he looks at you. When he stands you back up, he pulls you close and whispers, “You okay?”
You nod, about to tell him to keep running, when you hear the first screech of the Demodogs.
“What was that?” Max inches towards your side, now long familiar with what the screeches mean.
As if almost in response to the girl, more screeches follow as they echo through the tunnels. Only this time, there’s more of them; more than you’d even want to imagine. The hair on your arms stands up as the screeching continues. You know that if you don’t run now, none of you will stand a chance.
“They’re coming.” Mike realizes. “Run! Run, let’s go!”
You snatch Dustin’s hand and practically throw the kid forward with how harshly you begin running. Lucas and Max run past, while Mike follows after Steve. Your footsteps fall harshly against the tunnel’s earthy ground and it takes everything within you to keep going. When you round the corner and see the rope, you almost sob with relief.
“Kids first!” You shout, damning whatever further damage it’ll do to your vocal chords.
Steve understands immediately and kneels beneath the rope to give the kids a boost up while you hold the rope taught and help lift them. Max is the first up, both you and Steve more so throwing her rather than helping her.
“C’mon!” Steve encourages her, and with one final shove from you, she makes it over the edge and is safe.
Everything happens so fast, it’s a blur as you help Lucas start to climb out, then Mike, and as you’re hauling Dustin up next, you hear the Demodogs drawing near.
“Oh, shit!” Steve hears them as soon as you do and he grabs for his bat and starts to place himself in front of you and Dustin, but you stop him.
“No!” You yank him back and then grab your brother, shoving him underneath the rope. The shadows of the Demodogs cast against the wall, you know you only have seconds before they’re here. “Throw him up!”
Dustin realizes what you’re about to do. “Y/N, no–”
But Steve already has a grip on him. “You’re going home.”
“No!” Dustin screams and tries to stay behind, wriggling and thrashing, but with Steve’s help, you’re able to lift him to safety before the first Demodog appears. Dustin, now safely above ground, sees this too. His heart stops. “Y/N!”
“Steve! Y/N! Climb up!” The kids begin to shout now, urging you and the teen to get out of the tunnels, fear alive in their voices.
You look up at them, see their faces alive with youth, and then turn to Steve. He seems to be thinking the same thing as you. You’ve both run out of time. He nods, you do as well, and together you’ve accepted your fate. Steve draws his bat as you raise your knives.
“Y/N!” Dustin’s voice rings through clearer than the other’s, the despair evident. You close your eyes for a second, wishing that there was more you could’ve done, but at least he’s safe.
Jonathan will take care of him, Nancy will, too.
He won’t be alone, and you have Steve with you, who is holding your hand as if it contains all the secrets of the world.
It’ll be okay.
You open your eyes.
The Demodogs, miraculously, start to run right past you and Steve. They weave between you two, not at all paying any attention. You stand as still as possible, not wanting to wake them from whatever trance they seem to be in.
However, one particularly large Demodog crashes against your leg and sends you into Steve’s side, who wraps his arms around you with a fierce protectiveness. You duck your head down, unaware just how desperately you’d been craving his presence, and he buries you further against him as the monsters continue to run.
The two of you cower, curling into one another, steadying the other, waiting for something to happen. Steve has his feet firmly planted and stands his ground as more monsters run past, and without him you would’ve fallen minutes ago, trampled by the creatures.
When you can’t hear any more Demodogs, you slowly lift your head from Steve’s chest and look around.
They’re gone. Each and every one of them has left.
You’re still in Steve’s arms, your chests are pressed tightly together and you’ve never been this close to him before. When you look up at him, you can feel his breath against your skin. There’s an odd look in his eyes, he’s studying your face as if seeing it for the first time, and his gaze makes something deep within you stir.
“Thank you,” you whisper, needing to say something. He’s once again saved your life, and your eyes can’t seem to leave his.
His fingers dig into your side, it’s the only way he can respond. The sensation causes you to shiver and your eyes slowly drift down to his lips. They’re a lovely shade of pink, flush and full. You wonder what they’d taste like, if he’s wondered the same about you.
Steve stares down at you and feels every breath you take, the rise and fall of your chest matching his. The two of you stand like this for a moment, hearts beating together as you cling to one another, until Dustin clears his throat.
“Ahem,” he draws your attention. “There are kids here, ya know.”
Lucas, Max, and Mike all snicker when you frantically pull away from Steve in embarrassment. Both of your faces are red, the air between you still hangs with something you’re not quite sure how to name.
“We’re coming.” Steve mumbles to your brother before turning to you. “Ready?”
You take a deep breath and nod, your nerves still shaky from being so close to him prior. When you’re ready, you grab onto the rope and feel Steve’s always gentle hands grip your waist. You’re slow climbing up, being the most injured out of everyone, but he’s patient with you and murmurs encouragement as you climb.
Once you’re safely up, you help the kids with Steve. The moment his feet touch solid land, he lets out a low whistle and claps his hands. “Well, I’d say that went well–”
Suddenly, Billy’s headlights begin to shine obnoxiously bright. The light increases in its intensity, glowing brighter and brighter, so much so that you and everyone else have to shield your eyes. Then, just as suddenly as it began, the lights shut off.
It’s quiet. No one says anything, unsure of what’s just happened, but you know.
“El,” you whisper, somehow knowing it’s her. Mike nods, understanding as well.
She did it.
She closed the gate.
You pull the kids into you, dragging them all in your arms in a giant hug. All you feel right now is disbelief. The plan worked. You’re all somehow still alive.
Steve stands behind you, his chest firm against your back, and you allow yourself to gently lean against him. To accept all that he’s silently providing you; there’s no point in fighting it any more. He’s here, offering you anything you need from him, and you’re exhausted from pretending that you don’t see it.
After a few moments of silence, you finally release the kids and nudge them towards the car.
It’s time to go home.
–
“So what exactly did you guys do with Billy?” Steve’s driving and you’re in the passenger seat, waves of exhaustion crashing upon you. From the rearview mirror, Steve sees Lucas, Dustin, and Mike all turn to Max slowly. He frowns. “Why are you all looking at her?”
Max shifts uncomfortably in her seat. “I handled it.”
“She sedated him and we left him on the floor at Will’s.” Dustin fills in the information that Max opted to omit, which she elbows him for.
Steve blinks, turns to you, and asks, “You heard that too, right?”
“Mhm.”
“Cool.”
When you get to Jonathan’s, Billy is sitting hunched over on the porch, waiting. He looks rough, his eyes bleary and his hair matted. When you see him, you feel your throat constrict in pain and a sense of panic builds within you. You look towards Steve, see his bruised cheek, then notice the way Max squirms in the backseat being near Billy, and the panic is replaced with anger.
He’s caused enough pain and turmoil to those you love.
Steve parks the car and turns in his seat so that he’s facing everyone. “Alright, we all see that Billy is awake, so you guys stay here while I go and–”
“We.” You correct, swallowing down the pain you feel.
Steve inhales and looks as if he wants to argue, but he just shakes his head and continues. “Okay, we go and talk to the guy.”
“I want to come.” Max says, though she still refuses to look in Billy’s direction.
You rest a hand on her leg. You understand what she’s asking for, to handle her brother herself, take her life into her own hands. Max is a brave kid, she’s shown you that much tonight, and while you trust her to make the right decision, you’re still hesitant. “Are you sure?”
She thinks for a second before nodding. Her eyes harden and she juts her jaw out. She’s made up her mind, and you get a kick out of seeing the fire within her. Max Mayfield is an incredible young girl, and you’re honored to know that she trusts you. “I’m sure.”
“Then let’s go.”
You, Steve, and Max walk side by side towards Billy, though you make sure to place the girl slightly behind you in case her brother tries anything.
When Billy notices you approach, he lifts his head up and waves lazily at the three of you. “Back already?” His words slur together and his eyes are glossy; the sedative must still be wearing off.
Max steps forward. “Take me home.”
Billy eyes her, looks between you and Steve, and then sighs. “Fine. Any other demands?”
The girl shakes her head. “I’ll wait in the car.”
And then she’s gone, leaving you and Steve alone with Billy.
He eyes you, sees the bruises on your neck, and a languid smile drawls across his face. “Seems I left a mark, sweetheart.”
Steve steps forward, but you put your hand out and stop him. You appreciate him, you do, but this is something you have to do yourself. You swallow again, feeling the tender flesh within your throat constrict, and try to make your words come out as neutral as possible. “Seems I did, too.”
Billy looks down at his shoulder, the wound from your knife is still bleeding. “So you did.”
Lucas and the other boys stand off to the side now, having left the car alone for Max. When Billy notices them staring, he sighs and wipes his hands off on his jeans and slowly gets up. “Well, my bitch of a sister awaits.”
As Billy leaves, Mike runs up the steps and unlocks the front door. “Y/N, think you could make those cookies again? I’m starving.”
You glare at him and Steve laughs. “I’m not sure she can even walk up the steps, dude.”
“Yeah, look at her.” Dustin waves his hands in front of you. “She looks like a zombie.”
Lucas makes zombie sounds and pretends to eat Dustin’s brains before Mike joins in. The three of them chase each other into the house, screaming “brains” and “die” as they mess around, leaving you and Steve alone outside.
He steps in front of you, his back towards you and he crouches down. “Care for a ride?”
You want to argue, but it’s becoming harder and harder to keep your eyes open. It’d be a miracle if you even manage up the first step on the porch. Hesitantly, you place your hands on Steve’s shoulders and jump onto his back.
“Atta girl,” he laughs, standing back up so that he can carry you inside and join the boys. You wrap your arms around his neck and nuzzle your face as you close your eyes. You’re seconds away from falling asleep. Steve seems to sense this and slows down his footsteps so as to not disturb you.
He navigates the home, remembering where to go from his time here last year. You’re warm against him and Steve’s fingers draw lazy circles onto your ankles. The boys are in the kitchen, scurrying around for any food, and Steve relishes in this small moment with you.
You’re placed down into a soft bed and the smell of Jonathan overwhelms you; you open your eyes and realize that Steve has taken you to the boy’s room. The bed is warm beneath you, the scent soothes your wounds.
“Jonathan’s?” You ask, confused as to why Steve would take you here.
“Figured it’s where you sleep when you’re here.” He shrugs, as if it’s no big deal, before grabbing the blankets and tucking you in. His movements are careful and he makes sure your head is resting on a pillow and that he takes off your shoes.
The gentleness of his touch soothes you. You’ve never let anyone take care of you like this before. You let him play with your hair, wrap the blanket around you so that you won’t get cold, and when he finally seems pleased with his work, he flicks your nose and smiles. “Get some sleep, dork.”
“Everyone is safe?”
His eyes melt. “They are. They’ll be home soon. In the meantime, I’ll rustle up some grub for those heathens outside while you sleep. Doctor’s orders.”
You giggle and grab his hand to bring to your lips. They linger against his knuckles, you inhale and breathe in his scent, and Steve’s breath hitches at the touch. “Thank you,” you whisper against his skin before placing another kiss.
There’s such a lovely buzz within your chest, holding Steve’s hand fills you with this syrupy warmth like honey, and you’ve never felt it before. It drips down your skin and into your bones, healing wounds both old and new with its kisses.
Steve squeezes your hand with his. He feels it, too. You both do.
–
A body slides in next to yours, rousing you from your sleep. A hand wraps around your waist and the fingers, long and lithe and familiar, skim your skin lazily. The sensation almost lulls you back to sleep, you know whose touch this is, whose body lays next to yours.
You open your arms and engulf Jonathan into a hug. His body lays atop of yours, reminiscent of the night a few days ago when he snuck into your room before he left with Nancy. Your body has long since come to anticipate his weight against yours, it’s become accustomed to how he lands upon you.
“What time is it?” You rasp, stroking Jonathan’s hair with your fingers as he breathes steadily against you. You’re not sure how long you’ve been asleep, but the pain in your throat has lessened, your voice is slowly returning to normal.
“Early morning,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss against your shoulder. “Steve took Dustin home, no one wanted to wake you. Apparently you had a rough night.”
You laugh, then wince at the pain it draws from your throat and ribs. “You could say that.”
Jonathan places another kiss upon your skin, this time against the base of your throat. He litters kisses up and down your neck, his breath tickling as he does so. “I’m sorry,” he says in between each kiss, as if his words will make the bruises fade faster.
Rather than respond, knowing nothing you can say will make him believe that none of this is Jonathan’s fault, you simply hum at his kisses and lean into them. “Will?”
“He’s okay, he’s safe. Mom is with him now.”
You hum again, relishing in the knowledge that Will is okay and that Jonathan is once again here with you. The house is quiet, everyone else asleep, and the two of you lay like this for a while. No more words are said, Jonathan presses kisses against your skin as your fingers interlock through his hair and you run your hand up and down his back.
Somehow, you know this will be the last time you ever have him like this.
Just the two of you, uncrossed in any boundaries. Skin against skin, kisses to wounds and fingers intertwined. You hope that your body never forgets the weight of his. You hope that it will always anticipate his impact, welcoming it after a long day. Jonathan’s touch will soon become ghosts lingering on your skin, and selfishly you never want this moment to end.
Uncrossed boundaries, threads and strings and lines.
They’re here. You can see them now, they almost glow faintly within Jonathan’s room, the same room in which you grew up in.
“Bee?” You whisper, nudging him gently to get his attention. He lifts his head from your neck and looks at you, eyes open and listening. “We have to talk about it.”
The early morning light streams through the curtain and illuminates Jonathan’s face. His eyes are a mixture of browns and reds and ambers and you try to remember what they look like now, before the words are said and nothing will ever be the same again.
“I’m scared,” he admits. You’ve made him into who he is today, with all of his quirks and humor and love. Jonathan doesn’t know who he would be without you, and he’s terrified that he’ll say the wrong thing and lose you forever.
“I know,” you stroke his cheek. “I am, too.”
“I don’t want to–I can’t lose you.”
“You’ll never lose me, Jonathan Byers.” You’re firm in your words, now grasping at his face with your hands. “We’re connected, remember? String theory, you and me.”
Jonathan has tears in his eyes. “But I slept with Nancy.”
His confession only makes you sigh. “I know, bee.”
“I–I think… I think this time it’ll turn into something more. I… I think I love her, bug.” His voice cracks, terrified of his own words. He recognizes now, far too late, all that he’s missed. “But bug… I know there’s–that there’s some things we should’ve talked about. A long time ago… but I just…”
“I know,” you know everything he’s trying to tell you. There’s no hurt in your voice, only resignation, but you knew this would happen eventually. “We missed our chance a while ago.”
“Did we ever really have a chance?” He asks, thinking back to the day the two of you met. How easily you accepted him into your life, the role you unknowingly assigned to him as your best friend. How, for years, he’d been so in love with you but terrified it’d scare you away.
You play with his fingers, thinking for a moment. “I’d like to think that we did. I think we just… We missed each other, along the way.”
He smiles, bittersweet and somber. “We would’ve been something great, huh?”
“You’re my person,” you tell him, a certain sadness creeping into your voice. It’s the truth. No one will ever know you like he does, no one can unravel you the way he can. The love you have for Jonathan is unyielding, it transcends everything else you’ve ever felt. “Of course we would’ve been something great.”
“And now?”
You bite your lip, unsure. “Now we just… We let go.”
Jonathan tightens his arms and presses himself further against you. “I’m never letting you go, Y/N Henderson.”
You feel tears beginning to form in your eyes, both from grief and acceptance. “You don’t have to, but we have to let go of our claim to one another. You’re Nancy’s, now. It wouldn't be fair otherwise. To anyone.”
“And you’re Steve’s?” He asks, hesitant to bring the boy up. While you watched Jonathan fall in love with Nancy, he’s watched you fall for Steve.
“I think I could really love him,” you admit, breathless. “I think I’ve already started to fall for him.”
Jonathan’s heart twists at the breathlessness in your voice, though he knows he’ll have to get used to this. To no longer being the reason for your bashfulness. It’ll take time, but he knows in the end that it’s for the better. “You deserve to go for it, bug.”
“Really?”
“Of course,” he playfully pokes your side. “Nancy fucked up with him, and I fucked up with you. The two of you deserve better than us, and I… I want you to be happy, you know that.”
“I know, but…” you turn to him now, needing him to understand all that you still don’t know how to voice yourself. “Remember our pinky promise from last year?”
Jonathan wiggles his pinky at you, unsure where you’re going with this. “I do.”
“We’ll always stay like this, right? You and me?” You know it’s selfish to ask, to expect everything to stay the same between you, but losing Jonathan would be the one thing you’d never recover from. He’s in your bones, now. He’s grown up alongside you, patched up your wounds as a child and now holds your hands through the nightmares you face together.
It doesn’t matter how you and Jonathan end, whether you’re lovers in this universe or simply the best of friends. Regardless of what’s happened, he’s the most important person in your life. He always will be.
Jonathan presses a kiss upon your forehead, his lips warm. “Always, and I’ll always love you the most, bug.”
“I’ll always love you the most, bee.” The words come easily to you, an exhale after being inhaled so long ago.
The world stills. Then, as slow as the sun rises after a harsh winter’s night, the strings and lines finally settle between you two.
“Let’s go to bed.” Jonathan whispers, wanting to hold onto you for at least a few more hours.
In the late morning hours the two of you will wake up, and it will be the last time you do so in each other’s arms.
–
When Jonathan drops you off at home the next day, your mom freaks when she sees you. Dustin had tried to prepare her, making up some lie about how you’d fallen down at the Byers’ house and that’s why you couldn’t come home for a few days. However, your mom still had a heart attack when you walked through the front door with a split head, black eye, bruised neck, and a bloodied side.
“My baby!” She took you into her arms and immediately set her eyes on Jonathan. “What, did you have a bear in the house or something?”
Jonathan looked over at Dustin with a helpless look on his face and your brother had sighed. He figured he’d have to be the one to take over. “Like I said, mom. Y/N just got really into our campaign and fell. She’s fine, I mean, look at her!”
You did your best to appear very fine and healthy, despite your concussion forming a horrendous headache. You forced a smile on your face, all teeth. “All fine and dandy, mom.”
Claudia Henderson hadn’t bought it.
You were placed under house arrest for two weeks.
During these two weeks, you were only allowed to leave the house to either go to work (somehow Mrs. Waters still hasn’t fired you despite missing three days of work), and go to school. It wasn’t so bad, though. You had needed the rest, and Nancy visited you a few days into your house arrest.
You’re not sure when she officially began her relationship with Jonathan, but the first time she came to see you, she had brought a giant basket full of baked goods and comics she had asked Jonathan about.
“You didn’t have to get me anything, Nance.” You had informed the girl when you saw her struggling to carry the basket.
“I stole your boyfriend, it’s the least I could do.” You stared at her, eyes so wide that your black eye almost fully opened, and Nancy had let out a loud laugh. You’d never heard her laugh so openly before, and it was a beautiful sight. “It was a joke, Y/N. It’s okay to laugh.”
“Ha, ha, Wheeler.” You took the basket from her and inspected its contents. There were more comics than you could count and the muffins smelled delicious. “This is a good haul.”
Nancy had smiled, relieved that she’d done something right. She had bugged Jonathan all day yesterday, anxious to do something nice for you because she felt this crippling need to make you like her. He had reassured her a million times that you did already like her, but Nancy has never been the best at making friends, and she knows the history between you and her is tense.
“You really like it?”
“I love it, dude.” You saw the way Nancy’s body relaxed, as if she had been terrified you’d burn the basket in front of her face. It’s only then that you realized why she was there. “You and Jonathan finally seal the deal?”
Nancy blushed, still unused to how well you perceive others. “We did.”
“Took you guys long enough!” You squealed and threw your arms around her, elated for your friends. Sure, it still stung a bit, but Nancy was trying, so you were too. “But can I say just one thing, and then we’ll bury the hatchet for good?”
“Of course, Y/N.” Nancy said, though you felt her body tense underneath your hold. She had been bracing for impact, and it broke your heart to imagine how she was feeling in that moment.
You grabbed her hand and looked her in the eye. “I’m happy for you two, I really am, okay? You know my history with Jonathan, and I’m sure he’s told you everything, but I need you to listen very carefully to what I’m about to say.”
“I’m listening,” she whispered, gripping your hand tightly.
“If anything, and I mean anything, bothers you about my relationship with him, I need you to tell me. Don’t let anything simmer, don’t swallow down any hurt. I need you to know that I will always respect your guys’ relationship, and if you ever feel that I don’t, please tell me.”
Nancy, to your surprise, had laughed. “That’s it? Geesh, Y/N. I was expecting you to threaten me with your knives or something. I understand your connection with Jonathan, I know what I agreed to.” She paused, and then added with a sly smirk, “Besides, I know you wouldn’t cross any boundaries because you’ve spent practically all year pining after Steve.”
“I did not!” You gaped at her, shocked that she would say such a thing, and Nancy laughed so hard that it took both you and her another ten minutes to say anything else. It was lovely, laughing alongside the girl you once held so much resentment over. Now there you were, rib cage aching with glee.
And that’s how Nancy Wheeler became your best friend.
After that, things seemed to settle down during the month that followed the events of Hawkin’s Lab.
While you healed your wounds at home, Jonathan and Nancy came to visit you whenever they could. It was weird, at first, being in the same room as them now that they were together, but within minutes the three of you formed your own dynamic. You and Nancy teased Jonathan while he simply shook his head at the two of you and did whatever you asked.
It was a good dynamic, really.
A week into house arrest, your mom let you finally return to work.
Of course, on your first day back, Steve was standing inside of Bookstrordinary, waiting for you.
Seeing him there, hair messy and smile warm, felt like coming home.
“Back so soon?” You had teased, walking slowly up to him.
His smile widened and he grabbed your hand and tugged you closer, impatient with how long it was taking you to come to him. “Like I could wait any longer.”
“I stack and you sort?”
“Let’s get to work, Henderson.” He winked and spun you around, causing you to giggle, a sound he’d come to adore, and the two of you set off to work.
Steve becomes a regular at Bookstrorindary again, and one day you come home from school to find him sitting at your kitchen table with Dustin and your mom. They were eating an after school snack together, chatting as if they were old friends. Your mom was even blushing as Steve charmed her. It was a disorienting sight, to say the least.
“Is this going to be a thing now?” You’d asked, setting your backpack down to grab your own snack and join.
“I invited him.” Dustin said with a mouth full of apples. “He’s cool, and mom likes him, so. Yeah.”
Your mom pinched Steve’s cheek and giggled. “He’s just so charming!”
Steve sent you a wink, basking in your mother’s praise, and in that moment, seeing him with the two people you loved most in this world, you knew.
It hit you like a warm, soft summer breeze. It swirled around you, kissed your skin the way only the sun can do, and you could almost smell the fresh summer honey that your dad used to buy for your birthday. The feeling was serene, it felt as easy as exhaling.
You were in love with Steve Harrington.
Only this time, the realization made you smile; you accepted it with open arms. You walked over to him and ruffled his hair before sitting next to him at the table. Biting your own apple, you winked at your mom, agreeing with what she had said. “He is indeed very charming.”
Dustin gagged while Steve draped an arm across your chair and stole your apple. “That I am, Y/N.”
Maybe love wasn’t so bad after all.
The following week, both Steve and Nancy asked you to attend Barb’s funeral, and of course you went.
It was a small service, and Jonathan held Nancy’s hand throughout all of it. While it hurt to see her cry, you can’t help but think about how incredible Nancy is. She’s the reason that Barb is even getting a funeral in the first place, having brilliantly exposed Hawkin’s Lab and giving her friend the justice she deserves.
Steve stood next to you, stoic and guilty, and after the service ended you had to pull him aside and remind him that none of it had been his fault. He listened, but you know he hadn’t necessarily heard you.
It’s similar to how you feel with Will, and how Jonathan feels with you, and Nancy with Barb.
You all hold a heavy weight within you, of guilt and shame and despair. There’s nothing that specifically can be done to lessen it. All you can do is allow the ones you love to carry the weight with you, to share it and accept the help that they offer.
Time can’t heal all wounds, you recognize this now, so you do things for those you love and see the good that’s still there, even if it’s hard sometimes.
And that’s what you do.
You start stopping by Hopper’s cabin to see El.
He hated it at first, but when you showed up one day with a box of nail polish and comics, El had been so overjoyed that he simply sighed and let you in.
You teach the girl how to read, having her say words out loud as you paint her nails, and it’s lovely. It’s rare to get the girl all to yourself, so spending time with her is always the favorite part of your day. Plus, she starts to get really into Spider-Man, so you’ve done your job as an avid fan.
As for Will and the boys, you start to make it a point to partake in their DnD campaigns whenever possible. While it’s hard balancing work, school, El, and the party, you don’t regret it for a single second. It’s exhausting, but a good kind of exhaustion. One that leaves your bones aching in a rewarding way at the end of the day.
You’ll never tell Jonathan this, but he had been right a few months ago. You’d been burning yourself out, running away from everything you didn’t want to confront, from your feelings to your crippling worry for the kids. You’re not sure how much you had left in you, looking back now.
You had been drowning for a long, long time.
But as you pick up Dustin and Will from Mike’s, Jonathan by your side as always, your nails painted a messy shade of blue thanks to El, and Steve waiting for you back at your house, you’re finally able to breathe.
–
It somehow takes you the entire day to get Dustin ready for the Snowball.
He’s running around the house, frantically trying to find his bowtie that he’s misplaced, and you’re currently digging through the endless supply of hairspray that Steve dropped off yesterday. There’s so much hair products within the bag that he delivered, and it actually scares you a little.
No way this much chemicals can be good for a kid.
“Did you find the bowtie?” You yell from the bathroom, finally managing to open the bottle of hairspray that Steve specifically told you to use first.
“Yes!” Dustin runs back into the bathroom and throws the piece of fabric at you. “Quick, put it on while I spray my hair!”
You roll your eyes at him but do as he asks, securing his bowtie to his baby blue button shirt. However, as he sprays his hair, he almost blinds you in the process. “Christ, Dustin! That’s practically a weapon.”
He continues to spray. “You’re the one who insisted on helping me get ready.”
“I wanted you to look handsome,” you coo at him, straightening his bowtie one final time before stepping back and admiring your handiwork. “All done, and look at you!”
Dustin sprays even more product into his hair and tries to shove you out of the bathroom, but he secretly preens. “Am I really handsome?”
You admire him and you can’t believe how grown up he is now. He’s grown another three inches since last month and with the way he’s styled his hair, he looks like a teenager. Your heart stings a bit, seeing him no longer look like the little brother you know and love. He’s changing, growing up. “The handsomest.”
He smiles at you. “Thanks, Y/N. Now go get dressed while I finish my hair. Steve will be here any minute!”
You salute him and run to your room. Nancy had asked you to chaperon alongside her at the dance, and you figured it’d be fun watching Dustin and the party failing miserably with prepubescent girls, so you agreed. However, because it somehow took five hours helping your brother get ready, you run around your room in a hurry.
You’ve just finished applying some mascara when the doorbell rings, and your heart skips a beat.
“Y/N, Steve is here!” Your mother calls, a slight glee in her voice. She’s quickly come to adore the boy, something that Steve milks whenever he can. He’s incredibly proud of it, honestly.
You run to the door and open it, Dustin is still spraying his hair to death in the bathroom.
When Steve sees you, he forgets how to speak. You’re dressed in a soft white dress and you’ve pinned the front two pieces of your hair back. You’ve dotted your lips with a berry-red lipstick and your cheeks look more flushed than usual.
You see the blush that immediately forms on Steve’s cheeks and you giggle, suddenly shy. It’s awkward, but a nice awkward between you two. “Hey.”
“H–hi.” His voice squeaks and he clears his throat. “I–I mean, hey. You, uh… You look. Wow. I mean, not wow, but also wow–”
“Dude,” Dustin now joins and looks disappointedly at Steve. “Get it together, man.”
He pats his chest and starts heading towards the car, and you can’t help but snort. “He’s so lovely, isn’t he?”
Steve holds out his arm for you to take, the momentary awkwardness now gone. “The Henderson charm is a fascinating thing.”
During the car ride, the closer Steve gets to the school, the more you see Dustin fidget in the back seat. He had been so excited earlier, but now you notice the doubt in his eyes and the way he keeps patting his hair, unsure.
You tap Steve’s hand to get his attention. When he looks over, you motion towards the backseat and he realizes what you’re trying to tell him. He nods, and the two of you silently agree to give the kid a pep talk once you get to the school.
“Alright, buddy. Here we are.” Steve parks the car and tries to give Dustin a reassuring smile, but your brother looks out the window and exhales nervously. “Remember, once you get in there…”
“Pretend like I don’t care.”
You interrupt. “Okay, no. I thought we abandoned that idea last month.”
“Technically you abandoned it, I didn’t.” Dustin responds, and Steve shrugs his shoulders at you.
“Dustin, I really want you to be yourself, okay?” You turn to face the kid. “What did I tell you last month, huh?”
“That we Hendersons are charming people.” He grumbles.
“Exactly, and I meant that. Use your charm, buddy.”
Dustin isn’t listening, instead he tries to look at himself in the rearview mirror to once again fix his hair. Steve sees this and stops him. “Hey, listen to your sister, alright? You look great, okay?”
“Such a handsome lad.”
Steve puts his hand up to stop you. “Okay, ignore her and listen to me. Now, you’re gonna go in there…”
Dustin nods. “Yeah.”
“Look like a million bucks.”
“Yeah!”
“And you’re gonna slay ‘em dead.”
“Like a lion.”
You cringe. “I’m not at all liking this language use in relation to women.”
Dustin purrs, just to spite you, but now Steve cringes and shakes his head, “Yeah, don’t do that, okay?”
“Okay.” Dustin deflates, but when Steve offers him his hand to shake, his face lights back up and he accepts it.
Steve winks at the kid. “Good luck.”
“You got this!” You shout as Dustin exits the car. He gives you a thumbs up and starts to walk towards the school, leaving just you and Steve alone in the car.
With Dustin gone, a tension creeps within the car. You look over at Steve and he catches your eye, and your stomach flutters. You can’t deny that there’s nothing there, and it’s… it’s nice, honestly.
You don’t feel the same fear you did with Jonathan. You can look at Steve and admire his beauty and all you feel is warmth. His smile doesn’t hurt you, and the way he’s looking at you so unabashedly no longer scares you.
“You look beautiful, Y/N.” Steve says, his voice honest and dripping with honey.
You blush, and he wants to kiss the pretty red until it colors his own lips as well. “Thank you.”
There’s more you both want to say, but for now you simply enjoy each other’s presence. It’s too soon, you know this. He’s still in love with Nancy, and you don’t blame him. Instead, you bask in his gaze and he admires how lovely you are. How lovely you always are.
He feels it, too. He knows what you’re thinking, and for once he feels comfortable with where he is. You’re here, next to him, expecting nothing but what you know he’s ready to give you.
You press a kiss to his cheek, and Steve’s heart aches. “Drive home safe, okay?”
As you pull away, he catches your arm and stops you. You look up, confused, and Steve’s gaze softens. He doesn’t know how else to say it, how else to ask you to stay. “Be patient with me, okay?”
You don’t have to ask what he means; you know.
Whatever he needs, you’ll give it to him. You place a hand on his face and stroke his cheek, he leans against the touch and closes his eyes. This is the easiest promise you’ve ever made. “Take all the time you need, I’ll be here.”
The words cause Steve to sigh, you’re too good for him. You’re everything lovely and beautiful and kind, and Steve can’t believe how lucky he is to know you, to have you in his life the way no one else does. That you’ll wait for him, trusting him with your heart, and he can’t believe that you’re real.
“You’re an angel.” He breathes out, feeling everything constrict within his chest when you smile.
“And you’re sweet honey.” You press one last kiss to Steve’s face and get out of the car. No other words are needed.
Steve watches you as you leave, your kiss still burning his face, the same burning warmth he’s come to love about you. He watches as you walk up to Nancy inside the school and she hands you a drink, the two of you laughing. You both look so different standing side by side.
A girl Steve loves and the girl he knows that in time he’ll come to love more than anything else.
He’s already falling for you, he thinks he has been ever since he first saw you all those years ago when you were twelve and he was thirteen. He’s falling for you, but he won’t rush it. It wouldn’t be fair to you, not after everything you’ve been through.
So Steve admires you, he watches the way your hair dances as you laugh and the way the kids around you smile in admiration. He forgets that Nancy is even there, his eyes only on you, and for the first time in a long time, Steve smiles a real smile.
Your kiss on his cheek lingers, and he presses his fingers to it and feels his body warm. You’ll be waiting for him, and that’s more than enough for now.
Take your time, I’ll be here.
And Steve believes you.
[END OF SEASON 2]
-
⌑ series masterlist
⌑ if you would like to be added/removed from my taglist, just let me know :)
⌑ taglist: @siriuslysmoking @sheisjoeschateau @thytorturedpoet @innercreationflower @juhdoche @frostandflamesfanfic @goosy-goose @quinnsadilla @munsons-queen @stefansring @rice-elephant @bex22109 @bitchkeery @bex22109 @officerrrfriendly @kazunish @idkitsem @emilieluckwood @ryoujoking @criesinlies @tagakalat @dcnerd98 @sucker-4-angst @kitdjarin1 @onecojg @innazra @areiofhope @spaghetittied @cultish-corner @g8sstuff @videogamesandpoorlifechoices @hsllfirescoops @l0ve-0f-my-life @newyorkangelbaby @aliceespector @chervbs @poppet055 @bookkeeperlove @bellenotthebeast @swiftieblyth @ladyobscurus @moon-flowerss @estaticheart
#steve harrington x henderson!reader#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#stranger things#steve harrington fanfic#stranger things rewrite#slowburn#angst#wtlws#m's writing#behold: the nickname reveal#i told yall itd take till the end of season 2#muahahahaha#also im so sad its done omg
474 notes
·
View notes
Text
hi y'all. im sorry ive been off tumblr lately but im here. also i just finished the final ep of stranger things 4 and i have heavily mixed feelings
#HI. IM GONNA RAMBLE IN THE TAGS BECAUSE I CAN.#GOD i have such mixed feelings on the ending!! tbh i have mixed feelings on the season as a whole!!#i know everyone absolutely loves s4 and ppl are calling it the best season and i definitely enjoyed it but like...#i dont feel like it even comes close to being the best season? like dont get me wrong. it was cool. i liked most of the characters they -#- introduced. i liked the concept for the story. the visuals were super cool and the writing was solid.#but it just feels like its kind of beating a dead horse y'know? there were so many plotholes and so many unanswered questions#not in like a cliffhanger kind of way. but just in a We Tried Putting Way Too Much Into One Season And It's Paying The Price#also like. apparently they're planning on doing a season 5?? what???#i love the series as much as the next guy but.. that's just too much. there's only so much you can do with a series like this.#idk. i loved the first ep or two of season one but it kind of dropped off for a while until the final few eps#its hard to type out my thoughts but ive been rambling to myself loudly in the living room bc my mom passed out like half an hour ago and -#- i swear my thoughts are more cohesive irl. i have SO much to talk about but there's not enough room to type it out and i feel really -#- stupid for rambling out when no one cares online but it's no different than rambling to someone who's passed tf out so idk#okay. back to my rambling.#for a lot of the characters it just really felt like they like. went backwards with character development at first.#the character had the exact same growth in season 3 except it made sense then. now they're just doing it over again.#mike goes from being an immature and kinda self centered dude to a caring and mature boyfriend for el.#steve pines over nancy but steps back because he's more mature than he was and doesn't wanna ruin her relationship with jonathan#robin faces her insecurities to help her friends#will ambiguously pines over mike and doesn't want things to change but relents because change is inevitable#lucas wants to fit in with the 'cool kids '' more than his friends do but he still chooses his friends over anyone else#dustin is the nerd with a heart of gold who plays a big part in the success of the team#el tries to fit in and lead a normal life but realizes that that's bullshit. also she saves the day at the end as usual.#jonathan is kinda shitty towards the start but tries to make it up by the end and mostly does that. nancy is conflicted bc of steve so -#- jonathan kind of knows and he can't really make it up entirely to her.#nancy is badass who loves jonathan but also kinda loves steve and she's emotionally shut off so she just lets it sit and it bleeds out -#- into her interactions with others. the trauma doesn't help either. she still comes through tho bc she's a loyal friend who deeply cares#it just feels so similar to s3. idk. they've already gone through this development once before so seeing it again just feels stale.#im about to hit the tag limit but i wanna keep going so i might make more posts i think. idk.#we'll see how it works out tonight! im so sorry y'all for the brainrot
0 notes
Text
"Diamonds are made under pressure, aren't they?"
Summary: It's about treading the line between 'diamonds are made under pressure' and 'bread only rises through rest', describing the struggles of two people that come with being described as one of the best drivers to ever exist and the smartest person in the room
Pairing: Max Verstappen x engineer!reader
Wordcount: 2k
🏎Masterlist🏎
_______________________
“Diamonds are made under pressure.”
This is a sentence, a one-liner, that has been thrown at (Y/N) through an off-sentence by a friend during one of their most stressful weeks of university. Ever since she lived by it. It was one of the mantras she retold herself over and over again during one of too many all-nighters, only accompanied by sugary energy drinks and crippling anxiety about her future if she doesn't get through this assignment on time.
In the end it all, meaning the late nights and early mornings in libraries, study halls and classrooms, was worth it, the grind she held through her bachelors in engineering got her a seat on the Red Bull Racing team in Formula 1. Ultimately, it brought her to her true love, Max Verstappen.
They have similar mindsets, after all, there is always room for improvement and why wait for it when you can do it now? So many people are counting on them anyway.
This is something they have discussed during late night talks. These started back then when he was in his third year with Red Bull and (Y/N)’s first.
Max was about to leave the factory after a long day of working on the new car for the upcoming season. He stopped when he saw a light still burdening in one of the offices. Being the environmentally conscious person he is, he wanted to turn it off. Good one, Max. Without you Red Bull would go bankrupt based on the energy bills alone.
Instead of an empty office, he was met with wide eyes. “Uh, I apologize for running in like that. I thought somebody forgot to turn off the light”, the driver explained his sudden appearance.
After recovering from the initial shock of having her door thrown open out of the blue, (Y/N) was quick to put Max back at ease. “Oh no, it’s fine. I guess it really is late. I just wanted to run the suggestions you made to the team through a simulation and see if the outcome really does change like you expect it to.” The young woman smiled tiredly at him before continuing punching some numbers into her computer and sipping on a can of Red Bull (the orange one is the best, you can’t change my mind).
“You don’t sound convinced by my idea too much”, he noticed with a small grin of his own, “Was what I said not smart?” He still whacked his brain whether or not she was with the team he worked with today. He surely would remember, right?
“Oh, I would know what you said word for word, I was with the other driver today. But Mike gave me the notes and why wait to put what you suggested to work when I can do it now?” (Y/N) winks at him.
“And still you think it won’t work.” And with that they started an in depth discussion about the outcome that is to be expected with the proposed changes. In the middle of another Maxplaining (Y/N) just turned her computer screen towards the man leaning against the doorway, proving her point she told him from the beginning of their conversation.
“Well, I guess you need to explain these results to me. Maybe over a cup of coffee?”
“I definitely need to, can’t have our golden boy lack knowledge in the field of engineering. We want these Championship wins.” With that she packed her back. “I know a place that’s still open.”
Born with that are many more discussions, partially very heated even, that could only be solved by getting one of the heavy textbooks out that (Y/N) still kept from her uni days. Sometimes held over coffee in softly lighted cafes around the world, later during dinners, which are only interrupted by waiters desperately trying to get their attention to jot down their orders, and in the end they continue them in the security that only their own four walls can provide.
One time during a race weekend the whole team had a bet going on about how long the two can keep talking about the same subject. After two hours they had to be stopped, both of them needing to follow their own programme points of the day. GP won the bet, having to listen to their conversations on a regular basis with no way to escape them, because they are vital with important key information. Still, it doesn’t mean that they are exciting.
Now, three years after that initial meeting, three WDC and two WCC have been secured since. During that time the aspiring engineer decided to pursue a masters degree in technical engineering alongside her work in the team (or more like Christian offering her a whole ride paid by Red Bull after hearing her talking about this and knowing how much extra value this brings to the upcoming seasons).
The couple’s apartment in Monaco starts to look more like a library than a living space for humans, textbooks and loose papers scattered over every available surface and the floor of their office. While the driver greatly admires his love’s determination to get through her programme with the best possible grades, he starts to worry a bit. He has heard stories from her friends and family from her time at uni and what her study habits had looked like back then.
Hell, Max himself plants his ass for more hours on the sim than probably necessary, since there is always room for improvement. But seeing his girlfriend become a zombie version of the person he got to know was definitely not what he had expected when she signed up for going back to uni.
“Schatje? I thought you wanted to join me in bed?” Max asked (Y/N) tiredly, who is still sitting in her seat at the office desk while pouring over textbooks and a writing document on her laptop. His voice tells her that he already had fallen asleep, but something must have woken him up. Was she talking to herself again? She tends to do that when getting lost in her own world of equations and laws of physics.
“Yes, I will be with you in a minute. Let me just write this down, I finally understood that concept”, the engineer waved him off absentmindedly, the other hand retracing a line in a book, which has been assaulted by differently colored highlighters.
But Max is nothing but a stubborn man and if life had taught him one lection then it’s to never give up easily. “Come on, it’s really late and all your smart thoughts will still be there after you get some sleep”, he tried convincing her, moving closer and massaging the tension away from his girlfriend’s shoulders.
“I told you, I’ll be there in a sec. But a masters thesis doesn’t write itself and I would deeply appreciate it if you would leave me be to finish this up.” Frustration starts to set in (Y/N)’s voice.
Max is not irritated by it at all. He had been the same, if not worse, to her in his most challenging moments of his career. He knows that he can be a harsh person, unfortunately even to his loved ones. But that also means he knows how to deal with harsh people.
“You know what, I’ll put the kettle on and make us a cup of tea while you wrap this up and we meet again in the bedroom. Okay?” Softly spoken, the Dutchman proposes the idea to her.
(Y/N) can’t really say no to this, knowing that her brain wouldn’t be able to process and absorb much more information anyways. Still, there is a certain guilt gnawing on her conscience whenever she is about to take a break from her studies.
With puppy dog eyes the engineer looks up to her boyfriend. “Can you make it a hot chocolate, please? And maybe some of the cookies you brought home from the bakery?” Her small voice is enough to ask Max to do nothing short of a murder and he would say yes without wasting any thoughts on it. “Of course, Schatje. Anything for my smart and brilliant girl.” He presses a kiss on her forehead before disappearing from the office.
Not long after this the couple finds themselves sipping from their mugs with some calming music playing in the background and munching on some treats.
“My love, I feel like when I talk to you now about the importance of taking breaks and resting, we both will have a déjà-vu,” Max says with a small smile.
He is not wrong. They actually talked about it a couple of months ago when Max had to be dragged off the sim, because he had been stressing himself out about a particular race way too much to consider it a healthy try to improve.
“I know, I know. It’s just, being smart is not easy and I try to live up to the title of the clever woman in my family and in the team,” (Y/N) confesses quietly. The driver puts his arm around her shoulders and pulls her further into his embrace.
“What do you mean, Schatje? What do you have to live up to?” Murmurs are whispered into her hair.
“It can be hard, being the smart one. Because as soon as people catch on, they start expecting things from you. Suddenly, you are knowledgeable in every single subject available on earth. You become other people’s measurement scale. When they get something right and you wrong, they will rub it into your face.
You have to do great things, because they want you to do that. You will get pressured into using your intellect to the fullest extent, because otherwise they say your potential is wasted. Nobody wants you to do that, it would be a shame. Apparently to everybody and their mother.
This is why I sometimes hate to be the smart one. No one wants me to be average, they need me to be exceptional. That’s why I have to study hard and read everything there is on this subject. And diamonds are made under pressure, aren’t they?”
Max understands the kind of pressure that is on her. He felt like that for the majority of his life, having to exceed the expectations of other people over and over again, because only meeting them just is not enough.
Either he is the best driver out there or he shouldn’t even bother to try. That is something he had been told from his early days into his driving career. He lived by it like it was the only truth that mattered.
This was until he met her. (Y/N) showed him that trying is better than never starting. That his best will always be enough. Nobody has been born being a master in something. Failing is an important part of the way to perfection. Mistakes have to be made to improve, to learn what needs to be improved.
And he wants to show her that all of this also counts for her, too.
“Do you wanna know what Christian said to me a couple of months ago? ‘Just like dough, you can rise only if you rest.’ You need time to recharge to be able to do your best. Let’s take the day tomorrow off, recharge our batteries and just laze around and snooze in a bit. After tomorrow, I’ll help you study.”
A study date with Max Verstappen is too good to say no to. Whenever he quizzes (Y/N), she gets a kiss for every correct answer. So the questions might get easier over time. Still, he motivates her to do her best while looking out for her water intake and food consumption and taking regular breaks for stretching her body or going for a walk.
Max is right, you need to rest to continue achieving greatness.
#max verstappen x reader#x reader#reader insert#max verstappen x you#max verstappen image#max verstappen x engineer!reader#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fanfic
476 notes
·
View notes
Text
Like with all Mike Flanagan shows, I have to sit and stew on The Fall of the House of Usher for a bit to let it fully settle, and then I'll probably have to rewatch it to get the full picture.
But what I can say now after the first watch has sat with me for 2 days is that compared to Hill House which dealt with grief, Bly Manor which dealt with love, and Midnight Mass which dealt with faith, House of Usher for me dealt with consequences. Madeline and Roderick were offered the deal that they could basically do whatever the heck they wanted, and all the consequences of their horrible actions would not be suffered by them. Which is essentially what capitalist super-rich experience all the time - and we, the ordinary people, suffer the consequences. It's funny that they thought it worked like that, but I guess they saw their father who suffered no consequences for abuse and for mistreating their mother whom he had ann affair with (if it even was that, and not rape) - but he did suffer consequences, he was strangeled to death by a dead woman. And Griswold, who seemingly suffered no consequences for his fraud and the many crimes of his company, except he did - he was literally cask of Amontillado'ed which is honestly the funniest thing! But for the Ushers, the consequences were suffered not just by the anonymous masses, not just by the thousands upon thousands that suffered and died because of their actions (powerfully depicted by the rain of bodies Verna showed Roderick in their meeting in his tower) and not by Madeline nd Roderick themselves, but very directly, very brutally, by their own children - who all in the span of a few days were driven insane and horrifically killed. They were offered this deal, and while Madeline had no children and made sure afterwards that she never would, Roderick already had two children by that point. He signed that deal not for some hypothetical children he might have, but for Frederick and Tammerlane who were already alive then, and for his 4 as of yet unborn children! They barely hesitated. The Ushers TOOK that choice away from their children, they doomed these children before they were even born. And they doomed even their grandchild before she was born. If that doesn't show the crippling consequences of actions we take today, I don't know what does. Every decision the rich and powerful make today has devastatign consequences for generations to come - not hypothetical, but very real and very dire consequences. But these people don't care about that, because it's not consequences they suffer NOW, so it's not their problem. The Ushers are charicaturized representations of that mindset, their children representations of the generations of people fucked over by their decisions. That's why I am torn between feeling glee at the bizarre demise each of the Usher children met (cause let's face it, they were all assholes and messed up) and at the same time feel immense pity for them (because the fact that they were assholes and messed up was almost not their fault but a product of growing up under the trauma Roderick and Madeleine suffered when they were children, and in a mindset where they genuinely believed being richer than God made them immune to cosequence, and because their fate had been decided for them without their knowledge).
But also, Verna gave EACH of these kids an option. They were all going to die, sure, but they were given the choice to do the right thing. Prospero was offered the chance to end his orgy and his filming of incriminating material but he chose to continue. Camille was offered the chance to turn around and go home and instead die peacefully in her sleep. Napoleon was offered the chance not to lie to his boyfriend and bring a fake 'cat' home, and instead go home, sober up, get his shit together, be honest about his fuck-ups. But he didn't. Victorine was offered the chance to say 'no, this treatment is not ready for human testing' but instead she deceived what she believed to be an innocent, desperate woman into essentially signing away her life. Tammerlane could have stopped her jealousy, her envy, and instead reach out to her husband, actually communicate, actually appreciate him, but she didn't. And Frederick, well, Verna spelled it out for him, didn't she? He had to bring her home, he had to bring out the pliers. He CHOSE to abuse and brutalize and mutilate his wife when she was completely defenseless, helpless, and innocent - yes she had gone to the orgy because she felt unappreciated, unseen, and nothing actually happened, she didn't cheat, her only 'crime' was chosing to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. He chose to be a monster to her and to their child. All of them could have stopped, could have chosen to reflect on their actions and be better, do BETTER. Instead, they doubled down on their horrific behaviour, and sealed their own fate. All except Lenore, who until the very end chose to be good, chose to be kind, chose to see the best in people. That's why she was the only one to whom Verna appeared with kindness, giving her the certainty that her life mattered, that her sacrifice would save thousands, that her mother would do incredibly good in her name in the future, and she did not die with horror and suffering, she died peaceful, quick, quiet, like Verna had offered all the others. Verna was not so much a demon as she was the personification of "actions, meet consequences".
TLDR: The Fall of the House of Usher is the hardcore version of 'play stupid games, win stupid prizes' and will for me be part of the 'rich people actually suffer consequences for their shitty actions' cinematic universe.
#The Fall of the House of Usher#The Fall of the House of Usher spoilers#major spoilers#so many spoilers#the 'rich people meet consequences' cinematic universe
506 notes
·
View notes
Text
Mike Schmidt x Reader
Pt: 3 Friday Nights
Summary: Abby’s first sleepover gives you and Mike some alone time.
The friendship continues
Tropes: fluff, sultry thoughts but no explicit smut.
Word count: 3337
And they were roommates…
Pt. 3 of This Series
A\N: Hey!! So I’m a bit more insecure about this one than I am with my previous two parts. I still think it’s sweet, and I like how it turned out, but let me know if I should do a rewrite!!
“I mean truly, the stark change within Abby…”
The school counselor’s words fall on ears occupied with something else.
“….I mean I’ve never seen…”
Mike tried to pay attention - at the beginning - but eventually the words tangled together to create a meaning the counselor could’ve communicated with one or two sentences.
“… so quickly. Whatever you’re doing, it’s clearly…”
Plus, Mike has more important things on his mind.
“… good that she has someone like you.”
Mike barely catches the end of her…seemingly endless lecture.
He hears the compliment. It feels unwarranted but Mike politely grins anyway.
Mike has questions. He has so many questions.
The problem that the counselor is referring to… Abby healed it on her own, mostly. Her friends helped her - but crawling out of her shell - thats all her. Mike just made sure she didn’t die. Even then…
He still feels stabbing guilt; a lot of the time. For what he almost did.
“Sh - She gets nightmares, sometimes,” Mike does too, but this isn’t about him.
“is” he gulps down the lump in his throat, “- is there anything I can do?”
The counselor folds her hands together like she’s trying to explain something to a feral child. Mike recognizes the gesture. It’s not one of genuine kindness; it’s the kind of gesture someone enacts when dealing with a delicate situation.
“Does she talk to anyone? About the nightmares.”
Mike huffs, “she’s pretty tight lipped about it,” but he knows that she wants them to stop.
“No,” the counselor almost sounds amused, Mike tries not to let the tone offend him.
“I mean does she talk to anyone about it.”
Ah. He gets it now.
“You mean like a shrink?” He questions.
The counselor nods and gives him a look doused in sympathy. It makes Mike want to get up and leave.
“Can’t afford it.”
“Ah,” she says, before launching into another lecture about how to avoid dreams, and calm anxiety before bed.
Mike listens this time.
The day after the meeting, Mike goes about his day.
Everything goes how it’s supposed to go. He goes to work, coordinates with his project supervisor, and eats lunch.
Until he gets a call from Abby’s school.
When Mike’s coworker, Jordan, calls him out of the work room, he says it’s an emergency.
Mike’s heart fucking palpitates. He almost drops the damn drill.
He’s never struggled to take off his gloves, or unclip the bulky helmet, but he does now. His hands get clammy and hot. It gets hard to breathe.
Mike’s still has the safety goggles on when he gets to the phone.
“Hello? What’s wrong?”
Abby’s voice comes through the other end, “Can I have a sleepover with Selina?”
Mike exhales. He rips the safety goggles off and rubs the bridge of his nose.
He takes one more deep breath before answering, “Is that all you called to ask?”
Abby confirms before launching into an explanation, “Please, please. Katy is going, and so is Josie and Sofia and they’re making cookies and Silena has a trampoline.”
Mike’s tapping the phone, his fingers feel tingly and that urge to hold his breath comes back, “Look, I don’t think that’s a good -“
“- No, It’s fine. They have a trampoline Mike, please.”
She doesn’t get it.
That’s the hardest part. She doesn’t understand that she’s not safe at someone else’s house. Overnight? What if there’s a fire? or what if she can’t sleep?
Mike remembers the school counselor's words about Abby’s progress. He would’ve taken her opinion with a grain of salt, if he didn’t see it for himself.
Even according to Mike’s independent observation; Abby’s started to smile around other kids a lot more compared to before.
In fact, she’s planning fucking sleepovers with other kids.
Mike thinks about his mom.
What would their parents do?
“I want to talk to Selina’s parents first.”
So, Mike does end up talking to Selina’s parents.
He meets them in the parking lot after school.
They explain the whole ordeal. Their plans and the occasion that sparked the sleepover.
They seem normal. They remind Mike of coworkers his dad used to invite to 4th of July grills.
The mom - Janice - works at the hospital, and the dad - Sean - works at a bakery.
Sean and Janice give Mike their house address. So, he knows where to drop off Abby after she goes home to pick up clothes and a sleeping bag.
When Mike enters the car, he’s greeted with two sets of expectant gazes.
Mike’s eyes shift between the two of you, Abby’s grinning, but you just look sheepish.
Mike rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning, “make sure to pack your toothbrush.”
Abby smiles on the way home.
You're in the living room when just Mike walks through the door.
You have pajamas on, and you’re lounging on a loveseat tilted towards the TV. A mug of wine rests on the coffee table. Along with some type of cheese and cracker.
Something smells good.
“There’s food on the stove, it should still be hot” you call, then eat a cracker.
Mike beelines a straight shot to the kitchen, “Thanks.”
You mhm through a mouthful.
Mike can’t wait to eat, but when he reaches for a plate he sees the specks of sawdust layering his clothes.
He clenches his jaw, and counts backwards from ten.
“Hey, uh, I’m gonna shower first, but if you leave the dishes I’ll do them later.”
Your eyes stay glued to the TV, “Okay, there’s also wine on the top of the fridge. If you want any.”
Mike showers and dresses. When he returns to the kitchen, the quietness hits him square in the face.
Abby’s not in the house, and it feels like he’s forgetting something important - Like his keys are missing, or he lost his wallet - It puts him on edge.
Despite his unease, something sweet and warm, like syrup, spreads through Mike when he serves himself a portion of dinner.
It’s mostly covered up by the gray-haired worry about Abby at someone else’s house, but Mike won’t deny the comfort of having a good meal, and wine, after working.
Mike doesn’t know how he did it when he lived alone with Abby. He had to cook, clean, and pay bills. All on his own.
Back before you, Mike would have to leave in thirty minutes for his second shift of the day.
Mike wonders if Abby enjoys the new schedule as much as he’s enjoying it.
He brings the food and the wine to the coffee table, and sits on the sofa adjacent to your loveseat.
Mike has no idea what the fuck you’re watching, but it seems…interesting.
He doesn’t care to complain, though. It’s not like he’s invested in the show.
A few beats of comfortable silence fly by before you speak, “How was work?”
Your question feels like an embrace. It’s the type of question that someone asks when they want to talk, but can’t think of anything else to say.
You want to talk to Mike, and it makes him feel some type of way.
Maybe it’s not that deep.
“Good - long - what’re we watching?”
“No idea. I think she,” you point to a character, “wants to do something that he-” you point to a different character, “doesn’t like. So, she’s going behind his back and stuff. But I’m just watching this because I like the show that comes on next, and I don’t wanna miss it.”
Mike hums through his food. He kind of wants to ask why you’re not going out. It’s Friday night.
Are you feeling alright? What’s different about this Friday from all the other Fridays?
Instead he does the dishes.
When he returns, he’s still not really paying attention to your show. Even though, every now and then you’ll add commentary. He just mhm’s through it.
Does Abby remember his number in case she wants to go early? What if she gets too cold in their house? What if she has a nightmare? Would she call him?
His fingers are pulling apart the threads at the arm of the couch, and his leg is bouncing.
He drinks more wine.
“- about it?”
Mike snaps out of his head, “uh,” he tries to blink himself awake, “- sorry, what?”
You shrug and gesture to his fingers pulling apart the couch, “you’re um,” you clear your throat, “you seem… off. Do you want to talk about it?”
He…didn’t even notice that he was fidgeting with the threads like that.
“Oh,” he chuckles, but the sound comes out sounding more awkward, and nervous than amused, “is it that obvious?”
“No, no not at all,” you make eye contact with him, and that creamy comfort returns to make a sugary home in Mike’s chest.
“Well…” you begin, “…Kinda, yeah.”
This time, the laugh you pull out of Mike sounds genuine. Even to him.
It’s not a huge laugh, more of a happy scoff really, but it makes him feel a little better nonetheless.
“It’s just…” Mike starts, and you direct your body to face him instead of the TV.
Even though your show is playing. You want to listen to Mike more than you want to watch your show.
He has to fight down a smile, “…this is the first time Abby’s had a sleepover.”
Your mouth makes an O-shape, and you nod like you’ve got it all figured out.
“Yeah, the first time is always the hardest.”
That makes Mike think. How would you know?
“My mom used to get so nervous when my brother started going to sleepovers,” you add.
Your understanding of his nervousness makes sense, given the backstory, but there’s a detail in that sentence about you, and it means something to him.
“You have siblings?”
You nod excitedly, “a brother and a sister.”
Mike literally has no idea how he’s never heard about this before, “how - how old are they?”
“My sister’s seventeen. She’s a junior in High school,” you’re talking with your hands as you talk about your siblings. You seem excited, It’s making Mike smile.
“You should see her play sports, she's the Volleyball team captain this year…”
For real, you’re talking about them like you’re proud, and the genuine joy in your tone makes Mike want to crawl up next to you.
“- and my brother’s heading into middle school but he’s such a sweet kid. He used to get so excited when we went to the park. He loves to climb trees.”
It sounds like you haven’t seen them in a while.
The stories connect a few dots for Mike, though. This is why you’re good with Abby.
You and Mike end up talking more, he blames the wine.
Apparently, he gets chatty when he feels that familiar alcohol-induced warmth in his stomach.
Eventually, he asks why you didn’t go out on a Friday night.
The answer is much simpler than he expects.
“My show finally came out with a new season, and the new episodes air on Fridays.”
Mike snickers. His amusement comes at the expense of himself. Of course it was something simple, he doesn’t know why he even bothered to speculate.
He doesn’t expect you to return the question. But you do.
“ - it’s your night off, Abby’s taken care of, and don’t you miss going out and doing your own thing?”
Well, to be honest, he never really had the time. For years, Mike spent nights occupied with…something he doesn’t need to do anymore.
He can’t tell you that, though.
So he says, “Nah, I never went out. Even before Abby.”
“Is it ‘cause you don’t like crowded spaces?”
Mike doesn’t think too hard about that, but he snickers because it feels like you pulled it out of a hat.
He snickered again. He’s doing that a lot around you.
It’s probably just the wine.
“No? Just never had the time.”
You nod, but then you get that wide-eyed excited look that you got when you asked Mike to move in with you,
“Wanna go out tonight?”
If anyone, ever, asked about why Mike agreed as quickly as he did, he’d blame the wine. He’d blame the wine until he went blue in the face and died of suffocation.
He doesn’t even admit to himself that the wine isn’t the reason he said yes.
After he agrees, you tell him about a place that you think he’d like.
You say that it’s, “like a botanical garden, but they put lights up, and serve food, at night.”
You tell him that it’s not crowded, like a bar or club, because technically it’s a fancy place, and that’s why you both need to change clothes before calling a cab.
So, Mike calls a cab. Then, he puts on a button-down shirt, and throws on a pair of his nice jeans.
Still, he feels slightly, very, underdressed compared to you.
You come out of your room wearing an elegant little black dress that hugs parts of you in a way that makes Mike blush and breathe heavy.
Your neck stays uncovered. He sees the skin where the hickies used to be, but this time there’s no hickies.
Mike can think of a way to change that.
His dick jumps, and he wishes he could do something about it.
You make him feel things that he doesn’t want to feel.
“You ready?” You ask, and Mike has to swallow and take a deep breath to keep himself in check.
He’s very ready. Just, not in the way you think.
“Uh, yeah. Are - are you?”
You smile and nod.
The cab drive goes well. Mike’s getting used to the tightness in his pants.
So, that place that you’d said he’d like, he does.
At first, it felt like he didn't belong. A lot of people dressed better than him, many have their hair in hairstyles, and he can’t pronounce more than half the food on the menu.
You can, though.
To be fair, the menu ended up as a non-problem; because after you pointed out the prices, Mike gave you a look, and you gave him the same look back.
You both scurried out of the seating area before an employee could take any orders.
Mike likes the botanical garden.
He likes how you talk in the botanical garden.
It costs to get in, but it’s gorgeous.
It's the twilight hour when you walk through the pathway together.
Sometimes your arms brush.
Every time it happens, Mike’s heart fills with something, but you don’t seem affected.
He glances at your fingers throughout the walk. He starts to note the little divots in your palms. How would they feel against his? Would you be mad? If Mike picked up your hand and kissed the palm?
You talk about the practical uses of plants that you see. Mike learns that dried-up yarrow leaves can help clot blood. He also learns that solar energy powers the lights shining on the rows of green life.
You talk about how cool it is, that the owners made this place one-hundred-percent sustainable, and he can’t help but agree.
Your smile infects him with feelings that flutter through his arteries, and you’re smiling a lot.
Eventually, conversation lulls, but it’s the nice kind of lull. It’s a quiet comfort, like warm sheets and fresh tea.
There’s a greenhouse exhibit towards the end of the pathway. A worker checks in your coat, then tells you where to pick it up at the end of the exhibit.
When he first steps inside, Mike nearly goes into shock over the change in temperature. It’s hot, and he has to roll up his sleeves immediately or risk complaining about it.
It doesn’t help.
The place smells good, though; like moist soil and moss.
The greenhouse has fairy lights hanging overhead, and multicolored flowers decorate the pathway.
It’s laid out like a maze, the illuminated path winds around little islands of floral beauty.
Mike likes the palm trees. Most of them have pretty colored lights wrapped around the trunk.
It’s nice, Mike won’t deny the otherworldliness of the beauty, but honestly, he wouldn’t enjoy it as much if you weren’t there.
You bring a certain excitement to the excursion that Mike doesn’t think he can feel on his own.
You ask him if he likes plants, and honestly, he’s never thought about it.
He shrugs says they’re nice, because they are, and they’re starting to remind him of you.
His shirt collar is drenched in sweat by the time you two get to the end of the greenhouse.
He’s self-conscious about the wetness at first, but then he sees your neck.
It makes him want to do other things that would make you sweat.
The garden isn’t that populated right now. He could do it, if you wanted it too.
Lift up your skirt, press his dick against the plush of your ass. He’d nuzzle his nose into the crook of neck, and breathe you in before dragging his tongue along your nape.
He’d grab a fistful of your tits from the front of your dress.
He would take off your panties, but he wouldn’t give them back. He’d keep them in his pocket like a treasured souvenir.
Would you like it? If Mike made you walk around with wetness staining your inner thighs?
Maybe you’d find it demeaning, to be forced to walk around like that, but maybe you wouldn’t.
Mike’s very glad that it’s nighttime, because it’s too dark for you to see the outline of his half-hard dick.
The pathway leads to an outdoor bar.
The counter rests under a gazebo-like structure. Vines curl around the pillars like the lights on the palm trees, and quiet music plays over the chatter of the customers.
The bartender greets you by name.
You introduce the bartender to Mike as Miranda, and it takes him a moment to realize that he’s seen her before.
Miranda comments on it before he does. Mike probably wouldn’t have anyway.
“Yeah, I’ve seen you before, you’re the roommate right?” Miranda asks, and Mike gives her a tight-lipped grin.
“Yeah, it’s nice to officially meet you,” he returns.
“Yeah you too,” she says, “Anyway, is there anything I can get you guys? Completely on the house.”
You get a little wide-eyed at that, “Hey no, it’s okay, we can -“
“- I still owe you for dinner last week, remember? It’s fine. Tequila sunrise?”
You ease into your barstool, a soft, yeah spilling from your lips.
Mike thinks it's cute.
However, Miranda’s attention moves to Mike, and his panic chases away the good feelings.
Mike’s never been to a bar like this before. He’s not sure what to order, he’s not sure how, “uh, what do you have?”
Miranda gestures to the bottles behind her, “I can make anything as long as we have the ingredients. What do you usually drink?”
He doesn’t.
“Do you have anything…” Mike’s cheeks are heating, he can feel it, it’s making him feel dumb, “…non-alcoholic?”
Miranda doesn’t judge his inability to order quickly. It helps.
“Yeah, I can do virgin drinks. What were you thinking?”
God, all these questions. He doesn’t like turning down free shit, but he’s starting to feel tempted to.
“What’s popular?”
“Piña Coladas and Strawberry Daiquiris are the most popular virgin drinks, but we also have fountain drinks if that sounds better.”
“Strawberry Daiquiris are good, they’re like slushies.” You interject.
Mike orders a Strawberry Daiquiri.
When Miranda leaves, Mike feels like he can breathe again.
Mike wonders, if you notice the nervousness behind the way he’s crossing his arms, because you smile, and tell him that he looks nice in a button-down.
Miranda returns with free drinks before he can think himself into a hernia.
Abby would like the Strawberry Daiquiri.
For the rest of the night, Miranda makes stops at yours and Mike’s corner of the bar.
Miranda’s presence made Mike uncomfortable at first, because he doesn’t know her, but your friend pulls him into conversations in ways that he doesn’t mind.
It helps that Mike likes how you look at him when Miranda asks him a question.
He likes how you’re paying attention to him, even when your friend is right in front of you.
Miranda comes out from behind the bar when you mention that it’s getting late.
She gives you a hug first, then she shakes Mike's hand.
Her touch makes him think of your palms.
When the two of you get home, it’s just a little past 10 p.m.
Mike wants to thank you, for showing him a place like that, and for spending your evening with him.
He didn’t have to spend the night cooped up, worrying himself into a frenzy, because you brought him out.
The gratitude gets stuck in his throat.
What does he say? Hey, thanks for spending a night around me! Let’s do it again sometime!
Well, sure, he could say that, but he would rather stay quiet.
He doesn’t want to come off too strong, he doesn’t want to give you a peek into the meat of him.
He’s surprised when you say something.
“Thank you for coming out. I had fun.”
The words come out a little awkwardly, like you’re unsure.
Mike’s eyes find yours, and the little smile in the corner of your lips makes him feel better - despite the quiet house.
He licks his lips and offers you a similar small grin, “Yeah, Me too.”
And he means it.
A/N: Although I feel conflicted about this chapter, I’m very thankful for the love you’ve given me on the previous two!
I hope you enjoyed!
#fnaf movie#mike schmidt x reader#mike schmidt x you#fnaf#mike schmidt#five nights at freddy's#josh hutcherson#josh hutchinson
503 notes
·
View notes
Note
Mike Schmidt x male reader pleaseee. Begging him to go to work with him, only to end up blowing him under the desk and maybe getting bent over by him🤭
•.* Sugar | M.S •.*
Summary - Just one night you promised, knowing the dangers, Mike put rules in place to make sure you were constantly monitored, he should of know why you had asked to join him…
A/N - I’m fucking obsessed with this man, like he could defile me in ANY WAY POSSIBLE and i’d thank him, please enjoy me spiralling for this man- (ALSO NOT PROOF READ)
“Please?”
You almost began to beg, gripping onto his baggy grey hoodie which captured the slight annoyance written against his features, the constant tugging on his sleeve resembled a hyperactive child but it had Mike question just how far you would go with the begging.
“Why? Why do you wanna go so bad- it’s a rundown shit hole”
He mumbles gruffly, hazel eyes darting down to meet with your own, trapped within a everlasting battle of a shared gaze, his eyebrows furrowing when finger tips graze just above his groin.
“I just wanna keep you company…is that such a bad thing?” Your words were a mere whisper, goosebumps now present over his cloth-covered skin, could he be so harsh to deny you? You were the only source of his happiness, just one night wouldn’t be so bad right?
He sighs, eyes shutting as he groans once you go lower, massaging the spot next to his growing ache. You had a way with not only words but it always seemed to work, each touch, each blink you gave had your lashes flick ethereally.
“Fine- but you better stay in the office, by my side at all times, you don’t know what’s lurking in the dark there”
An eager “yes” escapes your parted lips and it warmed his heart, that certain fuzzy feeling that left him daft and in love lingered and he couldn’t help but pull you into him, it had taken time to get to this point, especially for Mike, you had opened so many doors for him, his arms squeezed you close against him, lips placing a soft, chaste kiss to your temple in silence.
“Thank you Mikey, I appreciate it…”
He smiles with certainty downwards, his hold had loosened now but just enough so he could see how your cheeks grew with scarlet blossom, how timid you had gotten underneath his stare.
“Anytime…”
Knowing how easy it was to get underneath his skin like a blue beetle had a certain grip on you, thoughts about making it worth his time had riddled your brain, confusing both kindness and lust all in one.
Mike had his own ideas to pass the time, yet they were still for you to uncover.
• • • •
The night was quiet.
Mike questioned the silence at points, it was unusual for the place to stand still, slightly ominous in it’s restlessness, in it’s abandonment.
“So…is this what the job is?? To sit and watch camera’s?”
You sassily remark, eager to get a reaction from him, his office chair swirled as he span slowly, eventually facing your slumped frame, his eyes scanned your body from head to toe, slightly annoyed that you weren’t taking this seriously.
“No, I do actually have to check around, see if anything or anyone gets in, hence this-“
He poked the heavy golden badge latched onto his attire, just above the bold letters “security”. You couldn’t stop the laugh that rattled from the base of your chest, glancing over the cutesy child’s toy.
Mike’s brows furrowed, slightly confused but he understood, it was slightly silly, what else was he going to do with his time here? Sit in the same chair for six hours straight whilst going slightly insane?
“Really Mike? Where did you even get that?”
He glared with a certain tone, almost studying you.
“I found it out back…with everything else”
Interest spiked within you like the love you had for Mike. You reach over, hands gripping onto the warmed arm rests of his chair, pulling him closer until your lips were mere inches apart.
“I admire your bravery…”
His breath was sharp, taking in what he could before he dipped slightly, latching his own onto yours, the kiss was slow, played with the imaginary heart strings you conjured up in your head, a professional guitarist lingering the tips of his fingers amongst them, twanging each one as he pushed for it, pushed for more.
He pulls away, just enough to break it, break you out of it. The office was cold, the concrete checkered floor doing nothing to secure the heat in, Mike was your only source, not that you were complaining.
“Why did you ask to come tonight?”
In all honesty, you had nothing in your roster to fight back with, instead, a wandering hand of your own timidly trails down his denim clad thigh, rubbing the area earning a soft grunt, one he tried holding back.
“I’m not sure…but I can show you-“
That drew Mike’s attention back to your face, his lips slightly agape, jaw slack when you gravely reach for the spot you grew quickly acquainted with.
It was a surprise…he was already half hard, almost bursting at the seems once the continuous rubbing began, your palm was a source of comfort and desire for him.
“Yeah?…”
Mike still questioned himself, he shouldn’t really be distracted on the job, he had so much to uncover but the stress, god, it riddled every muscle and organ he had, he ached for it, yearned for something warm and wet.
“Is this okay, Mikey?”
He nods, almost to eager for it, you understood though, kicking your own chair behind you whilst lowering yourself, knees folding once you hit the hard floor with ease, it wasn’t the first time.
His eyes bore holes into you, like a scorching fire, they glowed with uncertainty and lust which served as a hard time, you weren’t entirely sure if Mike really wanted this.
Laying your head against his thigh, your hands slowly figure out the zipper, tugging the small piece of metal down before fingertips dig into the small opening created, pushing the thin material of his white briefs, unveiling the very source of your own impulse.
Glaring with both anticipation and admiration your eyes flicker, darting from certain points of his thick cock, his head a deep crimson, tints of purple like it had lacked something, a singular vein ran thickly on the underside from base to tip, it stood tall and proud, it always had and will for you.
The view you would never ever get use to, he always surprised you, how could it be both so beautiful and…big.
“Think you could help me out baby-“
The question lingered in the air for sometime whilst you hands began to work over him, both fists enclosed over it, jerking back and forth, watching excess skin slip back and forth, uncovering the tip once again.
“Yes Mikey- fuck, look at you…”
A few more wrist flicks you give, just to get him there, just to allow him to taste it in the air, to taste just what your about to do.
Your Eager lips wrap sultry around his pre-slicked head, engulfing the first two inches whilst using a hand to massage the rest, the other fondling the heavy sack just below, thumbing the spot between both testicles.
“Fuck- I gotta, we can’t be-“
He groaned before restless hands ran through your hair before resting at the base of your neck, pushing you down, this was now beyond your control, you were his to use, freely.
The last few inches slip inside, past the corners of your stretched lips and into the back of your throat, there the tip lingered and the heaviness on your tongue grew, chin resting lightly against his balls.
That’s when you choked and gagged, a thick layer of saliva trickling from the corners of your occupied mouth, gathering at the base, joining the thin layer of brunette hair.
The man above you groaned so loudly that it rattled the thin walls of the room. You could feel a gush of fluid dripping out of your throbbing cock which began to seep into the denim of your trousers, Mike was to busy rolling his hips into your throat to focus on anything else but his release, you wanted him to know just how much this got you to.
With a loud slurp and pop, you sucked and lapped the head of Mike’s aching cock, you wrap an eager hand around his length, squeezing and pumping as you mouth at his balls, slurping them both into your mouth and licking the underside.
“Baby- fuck, I’m so fuckin’ close”
Mike gripped at your now matted hair, forcing you back into his length, pushing you down as far as possible until he settle himself fully down your throat, watching as you begin to struggle, choking and sputtering for air.
His eyes focus on the tears slipping from your damp lids. Watched the copious amounts of saliva drip and leak from his balls and chair to the floor, you proved to be a mess and it had his insides churning and his cock jump and twitch.
“Baby-“
He came with a shout, hands still buried in the thickness of your hair, holding you there, making sure to take every single drop, in which you do, before proceeding to suck him dry, pull off with a hungered gasp.
The point yet again was proven, Mike needed you by his side constantly, the time flew and if anything, the stress seemed to subside, replaced with a certain lightness he compared to bliss.
You tuck him away, secreting the mess within his briefs before scrambling up into his lap, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. He held you for a while, kissing softly at your ear.
The ache, the one from before hadn’t really fully disappeared and he felt guilty, yet he wanted more, craved more, this was nice and all, he loved this usually but…he wanted more of you.
Wiggling slightly earns a rumble of a grunt, he still wasn’t ready to leave this office, not until he had his fair share.
“Mikey…”
You trail off, feeling him grow harder by the second, it hadn’t even been ten minutes, what have you gotten yourself into?
“Why don’t you get undressed and bend over my desk, all pretty for me baby, I gotta have you…”
#male reader#x male reader#fnaf#mike schmidt#smut#fluff#MIKE IS A BIG BOY#like-#HELP#he can rearrange my guts DAILY
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
Hear me out. Bonten Mikey x omega male reader
A few years after mikey and m/n broke up, mikey discovered that m/n has a 6 year old daughter who looks like a copy of mikey, and mike like connects rhe timeline and realizes m/n was pregnant at the time of their break up but m/n never told him bc he didnt want his kid to be involved in the mafia/gang shit
-🐰 (late birthday gift for me 🥹?)
It's A VERY LATE FIC I'M SO SORRY
🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐
(Name) smiled as he put his little pups hair in pigtails, her bangs/fringe pinned back with a cute bubble hair band, today they were visiting Draken and Inui and little (daughters name) wanted to dress her best for her favorite uncles--- don't tell the others.
(Daughters name) was (name)s world, the sweetest little pup in the world who was absolutely precious.
Though sometimes it hurt to look at her, she was literally a spitting image of her father-- (name) never realized how feminine Mikey looked till his pup came into the world, but he loved her so much. She was the kindest and most selfless little thing ever. It wasn't the easiest at times but with the support of his friends he managed. Just starting first grade, (name) was thankful to work at the bike shop and being able to collect his little sunshine.
"Don't forget the cookies papa!" (Daughters name) said excitedly as left for their visit, without a care in the world.
Many would ask "where's the sire" upon learning (name) was a single parent, the question annoying and invasive but (name) always lied and made up an excuse about the father being overseas and such.
He refused to let anyone know about the actual reason, that being (daughters name)a father was the most dangerous man in Tokyo, (name) was thankful as much as he was hurt that Mikey dumped him.
He refused to let anyone go through what he did with Kanto Manji Gang.
With what Mikey was quickly becoming.
It was sheer /fucking/ chance that Mikey was waiting for the light to change in his limo as (name) stood at the cross walk holding hands with--
Holy s h i t.
"...boss are you seeing what we're seeing" Kakucho and Sanzu stared in Shellshock as they looked at a tiny Mikey with pigtails and a little dress, all of them doing the mental math and coming to a quick realization that holy fuck (name) was pregnant.
He was pregnant that day, oh my god that's what he wanted to talk to Mikey about!
"What are your thoughts on kids?" (Name) asked awkardly as they ate dinner, Mikey surpisingly home for once to do so "annoying, would get in the way" the blond said simply "a liability"
(Name) forced himself not to place his hand on his stomach, anxiety riddling his body "I see..."
"Why?"
"Just curious"
Mikey was always so disinterested in (name) these days, (name) always suspected that he was cheating, never saying anything though.
(Name) wanted to just scream.
Mikey remembered that night.
It was the night Mikey dumped him, a rash decision on his end and during one of his dark impulse moments.
He immediately regretted it after, the pained look on (name)s face and they hadn't seen each other since.
(Name) had many expectations of life, but seeing his ex sitting on his couch after he put his pup to bed, noticing the other Bonten men guarding the apartment "the fuck are you doing here" Mikey expected (name)a hostility and glanced up "that's my kid"
"What do you want Mikey" (name) wasn't having any conversation, he wanted to know what the hell he was doing here "I want to meet my kid"
"And get involved in your bullshit? Absolutely not! "Babies are a liability" remember that Mikey?" He hissed out and Mikey sighed, knowing this wasn't going to be easy "I deserve to meet her"
"You lost that chance when you broke up with me, I'm not letting my daughter deal with your shit, Mikey you're /dangerous/! She's six and I don't want her to ever go through what I went through!"
"I can keep you both safe!"
"YOU COULDN'T EVEN KEEP ME SAFE!" (name) was crying at this point, so angry at his once beloveds audacity"I kept her away for a reason Mikey, you are dangerous! She gets to play with her friends and have sleep overs! Has sleep overs at the friends you left behind! She gets to have a childhood that isn't currupted!"
"Why can't you let her have that?" (Name)s voice was broken and his body shaking, he would sacrifice everything for his daughter and at this moment he would stand his ground.
Bonten would poison her.
"Can...can I just please /know/ my daughter"
(Name) was tired, he was tired of it all "if you can /promise/ me that nothing will happen to her, I will let you meet her but one slip up Sano and I will never let you see her again"
#tokyo revengers x reader#tokyo revengers x male reader#male reader#bonten x reader#omegaverse#omega male reader#mikey tokyo revengers#anime x male reader#anime x reader#angst
785 notes
·
View notes
Text
About Dyersfilm’s “leak”
For all of you who don’t know, dyersfilm is an insufferable individual who used to go by the name of swiftlynatalia. She is racist, homophobic, transphobic, and even made fun of her supposed favorite actress’ eating disorder. However, people on Twitter (especially mlvns) entertain her because she had reliable sources during the filming of S4, and after during post production. She had some true leaks, many being the same that Reddit got right, while others only she had. She was also wrong about quite a few things, but generally she was reliable.
It is worth noting though that she is extremely biased against byler (many of the leaks she got wrong for S4 were pertaining their storyline) and absolutely hates the ship.
This time around, she was getting some leaks during the first couple of months of filming to her curious cat, but she herself claimed that these were not reliable leaks whatsoever and that she was pissed because this time she doesn’t have access to the real sources she had for S4. She has complained about this repeatedly for these past few months. The leaks she has gotten tho, many she has mocked and made fun of because they don’t align with what she wants from the show. She also made a “disclaimer” when the show started filming again that she would not be posting leaks about Byler because she hates us all, and yet every single one of those most likely fake leaks she got she posted, and many of them talked about Byler. She would post them and mock them for “clearly being untrue”. She has barely gotten a single Mlvn positive leak this whole time, and when she’s gotten at least something that alludes to them having scenes together she immediately ran to post it and alert all her friends, even tho she herself knows all of these are most likely fake.
For weeks now, her curious cat has been dry af because I guess nda’s are stronger this time, or no one wants to leak shit to her (she’s rude as hell). she posted the following ask 10 days ago. Someone asked her if she knew about any Mike and El scenes and she said no. Keep this in mind for what’s coming next…
Then suddenly yesterday, she alluded to a Jonathan spoiler she’s supposedly pissed about, but refused to post it like she’s done for everything else. People quickly thought it might involve Byler because she said she wasn’t going to post “leaks” about it, even though she had already lol. So they asked her and she said that “yes, it has to do with Byler.”
Then shortly after this someone asked about Mlvn again, this was just today. Again, note how she proceeds to say she knows nothing about Mlvn 😭
Bylers on Twitter noticed her answers about Mlvn and her comment about a supposed byler leak involving Jonathan and started speculating. She ofc noticed this, and not even after an hour of her saying she knows nothing about Mlvn she goes on to say this.
….
She knows nothing but somehow she knows Mlvn is stable? The bipolar disorder of these answers could rival my own bipolar.
Mind you, we all know that she would’ve jumped up at the first opportunity to post any leak that implied Will was pining and miserable, her and her friends would’ve had a field day over it. And yet, she only clarifies this after…
Not to mention how utterly ridiculous this all is. They’ve filmed stuff up until episode 4 (from what we know), why the hell would Will be pining and hung up over Mike if Mlvn is endgame? That makes absolutely no fucking sense. They would have him immediately fully patch things up with Mike and move on, not be hung up on someone he can’t have in the middle of an apocalypse. Especially not after the Duffers said he’s getting a happy ending. Will getting a happy ending but still being in love with Mike halfway through the last season with Mlvn being endgame is absolute lunacy.
Especially when you consider the fact that narratively, in a sense, Will has already moved on. He doesn’t expect anything from Mike, he doesn’t think Mike can like him back. He saw Mike confess his love in front of El, he helped that confession happen. Will literally has no problem with Mlvn anymore pls 😭 He saved them!!
This is the most ridiculous shit I’ve ever read.
Will is somehow upset at Mike not feeling the same way…when Will already believes Mike doesn’t feel the same and doesn’t ever expect any reciprocation 😭
Either she’s wildly twisting this supposed leak out of context to fit her own perceived narrative of what should happen, or she’s straight up lying about this.
And we know she’s lying about Mlvn so…you people decide what you think of this buffoonery lol.
Wait for Reddit leaks y’all. This woman could get a legit leak saying Byler is endgame and dig her own grave before posting it.
184 notes
·
View notes
Note
I was hallucinating a few hours ago due to lack of sleep bUT-
Thinking about Steve who's confident in his bisexuality, told the kids that he likes both and that's okay because he knows they need, trying to flirt with Eddie who is in denial bc it has to be a joke, right? Harrington, the straightest man alive? Steve lady's man Harrington? Nah, it's only on his mind. Meanwhile Steve is getting more and more sad thinking he's being rejected.
Now, think about the Hellfire members knowing that Eddie's a crush on Steve because he talks about it CONSTANTLY and be sad because "he doesn't have a fat chance in hell". They're also very protective of him so if anyone new in the club is being homophobic, they just throw them out.
So one day Steve is in the Hellfire to wait for the kids and flirt a little, telling himself that "this is the last time, you'll get a GRIP and MOVE THE FUCK ON!" is what he tells to himself. He tries a little and drops after a while, so in the break time the old members tell him that he needs to leave, because they won't allow anyone doing that to Eddie, as in: they think Steve knows that Eddie's gay and likes him so he's flirting with him in a mocking way.
So he leaves.
And when everyone (Eddie + the kids) is asking where is Steve, they say that he was being homophobic, an automat answer and they quickly try to cover up because they don't want to do that to Eddie, but Dustin immediately response was:
"how can Steve be homophobic if he's bi?"
And the world freaking EXPLOSES!
not the steddie hallucinations LMAO
Thank you for sending me this ask because I'm president of "Steve is a confident disaster Bisexual" and I'm making t-shirts for club members as we speak.
Anyways, I think Steve would be extremely confident in his sexuality to the point where he just likes whoever and goes for it (with the right precautions of course). When Eddie comes out to him and the rest of their group, Steve doesn't even think about coming out to him as well because he's been out to the group for so long he just assumes that everyone close to him knows.
So when he realizes he likes Eddie and flirts with him, he doesn't know what to take from his reactions: he doesn't look annoyed or uninterested (think about the girls he would flirt with at Scoops) but he doesn't respond either, which is weird for someone like Eddie, who engages flirty banters even with plants.
Let's add to the mix that Steve's love life has been a mess recently, how many times can you be rejected before you think there's something wrong with you?
That's why he decides to go all in one last time and then leave Eddie alone, but even the worst scenarios in his head did not prepare him for Eddie's friends telling him off on his behalf.
Steve's head is a mess but most of it all, he's ashamed. He thinks he must've been so annoying and oblivious to Eddie's disinterest that the guy had to ask his friends to put Steve in his place for him.
So he finds himself in the school's parking lot, sitting on the hood of his car and mentally counting how much money he and Robin will need to move to another country (because not even the most embarrassing moment of his life will make him go anywhere without her), completely unaware of the chaos inside the Hellfire room.
Eddie isn't in a better mental state than Steve, so he's letting the kids and the band do the talk for him.
"What do you mean he's bisexual? of course he isn't, he's Steve Harrington!" Gareth exclaims, voicing out one of Eddie's many thoughts.
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean? do you need a special license for that?" Mike huffs, crossing his arms.
Jeff steps in to defend his friend "Of course not! But he's king Steve! And he's constantly picking on Eddie, you heard him!"
"Picking on him? Even a child could see that he has been throwing hints at Eddie for weeks now! What are you, five?"
Erica's words put an end to the discussion, silence falls down abruptly.
Eddie jumps up off his throne and follows wherever Steve had disappeared before, distantly hearing his friends muttered apologies.
He sighs in relief when he sees Steve hasn't left yet.
The car is parked the opposite way of the entrance, so Eddie can only see Steve's back, but he can tell he's gesturing and, when he's close enough, he can hear him talk.
"You can never take a hint, can you? This is so stupid, how can you go around saying you got game when you can't even tell if someone's interested in you? Harrington charm my ass" Steve's hands are all up in the air and Eddie realizes he's gesturing similar to how Eddie does on a daily basis.
It's cute.
"Please leave the Harrington charm out of this" Eddie interjects, making Steve jump in surprise.
He looks like a deer caught by car lights, but he hides it quickly behind a smirk that Eddie refers to - at least in his head - as bitchy Steve "so, no more sending your gang after me? are you worried they didn't do a good job? or am I forbidden to stay even in the parking lot? I'll let you know that I-"
Eddie loves mean girl Steve, but he has no time for him now, so he interrupts "Go on a date with me."
Steve's raised eyebrow and incredulous look tell him that he doesn't take him seriously in the slightest.
"I said, go on a date with me" he repeats.
"I heard you the first time" Steve's voice is close to a whisper "I just think you must've hit your head on your way here."
"You're the one always taking hits on the head, not me" Eddie takes a step closer to him.
Steve steps back "well, there's a first time for everyone" he says, looking away.
Eddie moves close again, his face only a few inches from Steve's "I don't hear an answer."
Steve's eyes flicker on Eddie's lips for half a second, "I didn't hear a question" he bites back.
Eddie smirks and, under Steve's shocked look, jumps on his car.
"Eddie, what the fuck? get down of my car!" he's trying to maintain a firm tone but Eddie can tell he's amused by his antics. Eddie couldn't ask for anything better.
He looks around the parking lot to make sure they're alone, then loudly enounces "Steve Fucking Harrington-"
"Don't say it like it's my middle name!"
Eddie ignores him "- king of the school grounds, best Scoops Ahoy model-"
"what does that even mean-"
"Worst employee that family video has ever had, Faberge Organics favorite costumer-"
"I told you that in confidence."
"Would you do this humble commoner kneeling at your presence" he kneels down theatrically as he says so "the honor of accompanying him for an evening of frivolous romantic shit that society expects you to do when you find a respectable partner?"
“If I say yes will you get down?”
Eddie moves his weight from one foot to the other, making the car under him bounce “I might consider it.”
Steve lifts his arms, apprehensively “Okay, yes fine! Now please get down-”
Eddie jumps down, right into Steve’s arms.
———
All the hellfire club members decide to stop spying on them and get back inside when Eddie’s highly entertaining antics turn into a gross make out session.
“So” Dustin elbows Gareth’s side “does that look homophobic to you?”
#sorry for any mistakes#I’m falling asleep as I’m writing this lmao#and for making you wait#but I had fun writing it!!#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve and eddie#stranger things#steve x eddie#bi steve harrington#ask me anything#steddie ficlet#ficlets#sbc writes
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
cute crush
headcannon
pairings: awkward! mike schmidt x babysitter!reader
warnings: awkward, bad writing (not proud of this), reader is kinda mean at the end sorry
a/n: i can’t tell if i hate this because of how awkward i made it or if it’s actually bad
anon’s request: Mike Schmidt has a huge crush on the babysitter (but is super awkward and avoidant about it so the reader is confused)
♡ let’s be real, he’s scared of commitment. the thought of him being attached to someone to the point that his happiness relies on them is terrifying!!
♡ when he hired you as a babysitter, he was desperate. your wage was barely minimum which was great for him! he did not care for your looks, just as long as you were a good fit for abby and that he could afford it.
♡ since you were coming by every night, you guys would chat about abby… which sometimes led to him burying his face in his hands and questioning why abby likes you more than him. but also to moments where you would talk about yourself, and him listening contently. he liked- no LOVED listening to you talk about yourself to him, he felt special. no one in his life just wanted to sit down and talk, sometimes abby but they didn’t share as many interests as you guys did.
♡ he hasn't had a proper crush in years, so when he starts to realize he likes you, he shoves it deep into the back of his mind. no no.. i can’t like you, you’re abby’s babysitter! he would avoid chatting with you, only when it was about abby. he would wave a goodbye or a hi in and out of the house.
♡ then he would give into his feelings, desperately wanting to talk to you, but the harm was done. you though maybe he just wanted to be professional, so thats why hes been avoiding you. but you really liked him!
♡ “hey.” it was practically a mumble, looking at you as you sit on the couch and watch tv.
♡ “oh, hey!”
♡ “i got you this, it reminded me of you.” he hands you a bracelet with beads of your favorite color(s).
♡ you smile, putting it on. “i would’ve gotten you something if i knew!”
♡ his cheeks flushed but he quickly looked away, “don’t worry about it… i… um.. im gonna head to bed.. you can stay if you like” before you can answer, he’s gone to his room.
♡ it stayed like that for awhile… small conversations before and after work and him leaving before it could get any further. you though you did something wrong, he’s never acted like this way before so why now? but he’s also abby’s big brother, so you really shouldn’t be worrying about it.. BUT- whatever…
♡ one day, you got fed up. it got so bad that you dreaded seeing him. as soon as you heard the door open, you sunk into the couch. the same stuttering, the same blushing, the same mike!!
♡ “h-hi..”
♡ “mike. what happened?”
♡ he bit his lip nervously, not quite understanding what they meant. “hm?”is all he could mumble, before biting his nails anxiously.
♡ “this! all of this.. we used to be besties but now you’re so distant and… and.. and weird. it’s so awkward, i can’t even look at you without you looking away immediately..”
♡ his breath hitched, looking down at the floor embarrassed. “i d-don’t know.” he fumbled with the hair on the back of his head, abby always said when he lies that he starts to play with his hair. they caught him multiple times in his lies, and this was one of them.
♡ “please- just tell me. it’s killing me coming here everyday, i always have to hold my breath whenever i talk to you.. its so fucking awkward.”
♡ “i..” you look at him in the eyes, waiting for him to spit it out. “i like you.” he picks at his nail as he waits for your response.
♡ you just laugh, “seriously? that’s it?” you can’t stop giggling.
♡ “w-what? “he looks up, confused.
♡ “i mean-” you gasp for air between laughs. “i just thought you were a freak, not that- hehe.. that you liked me!” tears prickle from the corners of your eyes, as you try to calm down.
♡ “a f-freak? wow..” a small smile creeps from his lips, baffled at your reaction.
♡ you soon calm down and you sit on the couch, “so.. i’m sorry for laughing but it was such a relief that you just have a cute crush on me..”
♡ “cute?!”
♡ “yes! cute!”
♡ “it’s not cute!”
♡ “mike, you were stuttering, blushing, couldn't even lo-”
♡ he covers your mouth with his hands to shush you, his cheeks bright red. “shut up!”
muah! thank u for reading <3
238 notes
·
View notes
Note
hi! can I please request a fluff piece of Mike giving the reader a mixtape of songs he likes and thinks about them as a cute thoughtful gift? established relationship would be great :) thanks for writing, love reading your work!
thank you so much :D i feel like this is short but I hope you enjoy! (ps i curated a playlist for mike that i’ll list at the end of the fic! the songs are from the 70s, 80s and 90s based on his dad’s music taste but also the era he grew up in!!)
includes - switching between between memories and the present, mentions of verbal harassment. lowk kinda angsty but you’ll see why
————
“mike, just give it!” you groan. he sits next to you, fidgeting with the present in his hand. he twists the coils of the ribbon between his fingers.
“what if you don’t like it?” he asks. you give him a look. “i love it when you get me taco bell. of course i’ll love this. now give it to me, otherwise my assumption of you stalling because you forgot our anniversary will be become a fact.”
his eyes widen and he shakes his head furiously. “i would never forget an anniversary.”
you smile and pat his knee. “i know, which is also why i know this gift is going to be awesome!”
he sighs and slowly hands it to you. “happy one year.”
you smile in excitement, tearing the blue wrapping paper off. you gasp as you see a CD with a picture of you as the cover titled ‘how i feel about you.”
“oh, my god. mike.” you turn to him, pouncing on him and giving him a big hug. he wraps his arms around you, pulling you in. you can feel his heartbeat raging against his ribcage. you can feel how warm he is from anxiety.
“do you like it?” mike asks as you pull away. “i love it!” you grin from ear-to-ear. “no guy has ever done this for me. this… this must’ve taken a lot of work.”
he shrugs, “i’ve been thinking of these songs for a while. it was just a matter of burning them onto the CD.”
you sigh dreamily, attaching your lips to his in a slow and sweet kiss. “this is why you’re the guy of my dreams.”
he blushes heavily. “are you gonna see what’s on it? there’s a little list inside.”
you nod and open it, carefully taking the paper out. the first song on the list is “black star” by radiohead.
“that song is the song that was playing when i met you at the bar,” mike says.
you start to remember, your smile getting impossibly wider. you were a bartender around the time you met mike. it was a little bit past dinner time and mike had shown up with a woman, who you now know as vanessa. apparently, she was trying to get mike to flirt — or at least get himself out there. she had pointed out many women in the bar, but you caught his eye.
“can i get you two something to drink?” you asked. “i’ll have a martini,” vanessa said. she glanced at mike, awaiting his answer.
“uh, i’ll just take a beer,” mike said. honestly, you thought he had a staring problem at first. but turns out, he was just falling deeply in love with you.
“i can’t believe you remember that,” you awe. “of course i did. i love radiohead and you. it’s like the perfect combination,” he says.
“i’m not sure i like being associated with radiohead,” you giggle. you take a look at the other songs. one that sticks out to you is “baby can i hold you” by tracy chapman. you remember this song as the song you and mike danced to at your friend’s wedding, the one where he told you he loved you.
“may i have this dance?” mike stood up and held his hand out to you. you were taken aback. this was surely out of mike’s comfort zone. you’d been dating for six months then and you knew mike pretty well. you had just celebrated your six month anniversary where mike took you to this big fancy restaurant. you had insisted you didn’t need go to anyplace, but he also insisted that you deserved something special and he wanted to provide it to you. the whole time at the restaurant you knew he thought he was out of place and not good enough for it. so for him have asked you to dance was a surprise — good one, though.
“yes, you may, kind sir,” you smiled. you slipped your hand into his and he led you to the dance school. he put both hands on your waist while you wrapped your arms around his neck.
“you look beautiful tonight,” he said, gazing into your eyes. you smiled shyly. you were pretty outspoken, witty, charming, but also sometimes crude, person. but mike brought out a side of you that other people, and even you, experienced rarely. he made you feel bashful and special. you honestly loved it.
“you look handsome,” you said. “you make me look good,” he remarked. you rolled your eyes. “oh, whatever. i’ve seen two girls practically drool over you since we got here.”
he shrugged, “and every male here wants to take you home.” “well, i only want one man to take me home,” you smiled coyly.
mike smiled with you. you both swayed to the song as it ended. you were excited when the next song started to play.
“ugh, i love tracy chapman,” you gushed. “i love you,” mike said, not really thinking. you stoped dancing, jaw dropping at his words. it finally registered in his brain.
“i-i’m sorry. i didn’t mean that. well, i did. but, i don’t have to. or, i guess you don’t have to say it back. you definitely don’t,” he rambled.
you stopped him with a kiss, smiling as you pull away. “i love you, too, mike.”
“i am so glad abby was gone that night,” you snicker. mike chuckles, “i’m sure we could’ve asked your friend if we could use her hotel room for a little bit.”
“and get it all messy before they mess it up? that would’ve been a good idea,” you say. you skim the list once more, surprised to see “songbird” by fleetwood mac.
“isn’t this the song we drove home to after we fought?” you ask. “yep,” mike nods.
that night, you and mike had your first bad fight. it wasn’t your very first one, but it was the worst by far.
mike was picking you up from work and when he walked in, he saw a guy harassing you at the bar. you were obviously handling it: ignoring the guy and having your co-workers stand up for you. but something in mike just snapped. you two were a pretty new couple. you’d only been going out for two months at that point. while you had already stayed countless nights at his place, were practically bffs with abby, and shared your deepest darkest secrets, there were other aspects of the relationship that you two were still navigating. so it didn’t help that when mike heard the guy call you a bitch, he punched the guy.
in the moment, you thought it was a justified act. in fact, you still thought so. but you were mad that mike didn’t let you handle it. you were mad that mike seemed to always lose his temper. you were mad that mike didn’t see you as independent.
you both were outside in the parking when the fight started.
“you need to go to an anger management class or something,” you muttered.
“that guy needs to go to how-to-not-be-a-creepy-asshole class,” mike said.
you sighed loudly and crossed your arms. mike scoffed and glanced at you. “do you not agree with me?”
“of course i do, mike! but you can’t just walk into my place of work and assault someone.”
“he was harassing you and probably was going to hurt you!”
“no, he wasn’t.”
“and how do you know that?”
“because niki had just called security and there were other customers in the bar helping me out.”
mike huffed, “i didn’t know she had called security.”
“if you had just minded your own business then you would have.”
mike balled his hands into a fist and then relaxed them. “you don’t need to act so tough, you know?”
you turned your head slowly at him. “excuse me?”
“i know you’re independent and you take care of yourself. i like that about you a lot. it’s one of my favorite qualities about you. but you have to learn how to accept help from other people, especially in situations like that. you have no idea how those situations can just flip within seconds.”
“that’s really rich coming from you.”
“what the hell does that mean?”
“you never accept help.”
“yes, i do.”
“no, no you don’t. you don’t accept help from the baggers at the grocery store. you don’t accept help from abby or me when cleaning or cooking. you didn’t even accept help when my friend’s husband offered to fix your sink, you said no. and he was offering it to you for free, might i add.”
“i can do all those things myself.”
“i know you can, but it’s also okay to have an extra set of hands.”
“if i’m so bad at accepting help, why can’t you accept my help?”
“you think breaking someone’s nose is helping me?” you scoffed. “you are such an idiot mike.” you grabbed the car keys out of his hand, unlocking the car and sliding into the passengers seat. mike groaned and sighed, joining you for what he thought was going to be the worst car ride of his life. the drive was expected to be pretty short, but with just your luck, traffic was terrible. while it was only 9 pm, there was an accident on the highway, making both sitting ducks.
mike sighed and glanced at you. you had a permanent glare on your face it seemed. your arms were still crossed and you looked out the window to avoid any and all eye contact with him.
guilt seeped into him. he knew what he did was wrong. well, he still didn’t think he was wrong, he just knew it wasn’t the right choice. he should have asked the guy to leave and to just take you home. he should have waited for security to grab him, to make sure the guy wouldn’t follow you home. all he wanted it to protect you. he did the same with abby. maybe not in a violent way, but he thought he was his life mission to protect the ones he loved. he wanted to do better than with you two than he did with garrett.
and you knew that. you knew all about garret and freddy’s. the animatronic business seemed crazy to you and you didn’t quite understand that part, but you tried to be as supportive, understanding, and sympathetic as you could as you’ve never experienced what he has. you just wish it didn’t get the best of him sometime.
mike turned on the radio. you scoffed, not believing that he’s turned on music. he turned on a classic hits radio. “keeping on loving you” by reo speedwagon was about to end, “songbird” trailing right after it.
“this is a good song,” mike remarked. you hummed in reply with something that sounded like a “yes”. mike stayed silent for a couple of seconds. he knew if you were to talk again, he would have to apologize first.
“i’m sorry i got out of control. i was just trying to protect you. that guy was being an asshole and you’ve hurt you. i guess i just wanted to hurt him before he could get to you,” he said. “but i know it’s not right and i know you have support at the bar. i just get scared with you working there with all those weirdos. i know you’re a grown adult adult, though, and you can handle yourself.”
you slowly turned to him, eyes softening upon seeing him. “it’s…” you sighed quietly, straightening up in your seat to face him completely. “it’s okay, mike. i know you were trying to protect me. i really appreciate it, i do. i love when you’re there for me. i just… he could’ve hurt you, too. and you could’ve gone to jail, too, if he decided to press charges. honestly, i just don’t want to be the reason that happens.”
mike shook his head. “you could never be. i would’ve happily gone to jail if it meant i helped you and made sure you were safe.”
you grinned teasingly. “you would happily go to jail?” he smiled with you. “anything for you.”
you laughed and shook your head, placing a hand on his thigh. “i forgive you. and i’m sorry about all the things i said about you not accepting help.”
“it’s true. i’m sorry about everything i said and did.”
“it’s alright,” you said. traffic began to move just then. both of you pumped your fists in the air and cheered. “god, finally!” you exclaimed.
“your place or mine?” mike asked. “what do you think?” you smiled.
“this is a great song, but why’d you choose it? it has to bring up some bad memories, right?” you ask.
“it did at first,” mike admits. “but, we made up. and we were able to settle arguments faster and better after that. also, the song lyrics are just how i feel about you. ‘to you, i’ll give the world. to you, i’ll never be cold. cause i feel that when i’m with you, it’s alright. i know it’s right’,” he cites.
you feel like your heart will explode from love. you hug him once more, holding him too you so tight he’s afraid he won’t be able to breathe. but he doesn’t mind. you pull away slightly, looking into his eyes.
“i love you so much, mike. you are hands down the best person that’s ever walked into my life.”
he smiles and leans in and kisses you softly. he pulls away to catch his breath, taking your free hand into his. “i love you more.”
mike’s mixtape for you
black star - radiohead
girl from mars - ash
sunday morning - maroon 5
your song - elton john
baby can I hold you - tracy chapman
something - the beatles
faithfully - journey
songbird - fleetwood mac
iris - goo goo dolls
everlong - foo fighters
————
taglist
@celestbarnes
214 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
xxvm-blog
cosas mías
onlyverymary
Rad.
ultra-clashpects
ultra_clashpects
p-nesvorny
NesvornyTrek
onlyverymary
Rad.