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tinycoded360 · 1 month

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Firefighter-g/t one-shot

Part 2: here

Flames licked the walls of the old warehouse, sending plumes of thick black smoke billowing into the night sky. Mike Johnson sprinted towards the inferno, his heavy boots pounding the pavement. Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he gripped the axe in his gloved hands.

"Let's move, let's move!" Mike shouted to his crew. His eyes watered from the intense heat radiating from the building. Debris rained down around them as part of the roof caved in. Mike coughed, the acrid smoke burning his lungs. He had to get in there fast. People could be trapped inside.

Mike kicked down the front door, axe raised. "Fire department! Call out!" He strained to hear voices over the roar of the flames. No response. Mike forged ahead, checking each room methodically. The fire raged on, greedy tongues of orange flame devouring everything in their path. He had to hurry.

Mike wiped the sweat from his brow. The sweltering heat was overwhelming. Come on, hold it together, he told himself. You can do this. Adrenaline coursed through Mike's veins, pushing back the fear and exhaustion. He would not stop until he saved everyone.

Mike moved deeper into the warehouse, ducking under a collapsed beam. The smoke was getting thicker, limiting his visibility.

"Is anyone here?" he shouted. "Call out!"

A faint sound caught his attention. Mike turned towards a small crevice along the wall. Peering inside, he could make out a tiny figure - a girl no more than four inches tall. Her wide eyes were filled with terror as she huddled in the crevice, choking on the smoke.

"It's okay, I've got you," he said in a soft, soothing voice. The little girl hesitated, then climbed onto his enormous hand. Mike slowly withdrew his hand, cradling the miniature girl safely in his palm. She stared up at him with a mix of wonder and fear.

"Let's get you out of here," Mike said. He tucked the tiny girl into his coat pocket to protect her from the flames and falling debris. Adrenaline pumping through his veins, Mike charged back the way he came.

The girl peered at Mike's hulking frame from the pocket. From her four-inch perspective, everything was gigantic — the walls, the furniture, even the man who held her life in his massive hands.

Now, here she was, being rescued by a human bean. But she had no choice but to trust him. They dodged falling beams and leaping flames. The girl braced herself against the pocket as Mike kicked down a warped door and stumbled outside to safety.

The cool night air was a shock after the inferno. Mike gently lifted the girl out and set her down in his palm. "Are you okay?" he asked. The girl coughed but gave a brave nod. Mike just smiled, amazed at how small and fragile she was. He just wants to hide her away from the world.

Mike looked down at the tiny girl sitting in his palm, still amazed that someone so small could exist. She was no bigger than a mouse, with delicate features and wide, frightened eyes

"Don't worry, I've got you," he said in a gentle rumble. "You're safe now."

Carefully, he curled his fingers to form a protective barrier around her. She grabbed onto one giant digit to steady herself as Mike began jogging away from the structure.

"Well, aren't you something," Mike murmured.

The girl tilted her head. "My name's Lucy," she said in a voice that sounded like tinkling bells.

Mike blinked in surprise. "You can talk?"

Lucy nodded, a hint of amusement in her eyes. "Of course, I can talk. I'm a borrower."

"A borrower?" Mike repeated. He shook his head in bewilderment.

Lucy shifted, dangling her short legs over the edge of Mike's hand. "We borrow what we need from you giants to survive. I was just looking for some scraps when the fire broke out."

Mike frowned, his protective instincts rising again. "That's dangerous. You could get hurt."

Lucy lifted her chin. "I can take care of myself. I've been doing it for years."

Mike had to smile at her stubbornness. "I can see that. But now you don’t have to worry about stuff like that; I’ll keep you safe.”

Lucy looked troubled. “Hey, I appreciate the save, but I don’t need any more help.”

Mike just shakes his head and closes his hand over the tiny girl.

Mike cradled the tiny girl gently as he approached the ambulance. Her body was no bigger than a doll's, fitting easily in the palm of his large hand. As he walked, Mike examined the minuscule person with fascination.

Her limbs were perfectly proportioned, if unnervingly small. Mike noted her tiny hands and feet, no larger than the tip of his pinky finger. Her face held an elfin beauty, with large eyes that watched him warily. Mike felt an urge to touch her, to confirm something so impossibly tiny was real.

Unable to resist, he lightly stroked her arm with one finger. She flinched at the contact, letting out a squeak of alarm. Mike quickly withdrew his hand.

"Sorry," he rumbled. He kept forgetting how his casual touches could seem rough and intrusive to her fragile body.

Mike reached the ambulance and gently set the borrower girl down on a bench. As he explained the situation to the bewildered paramedic.

“That’s weird, man; I don’t think it’s human.” The paramedic replied, unable to take his eyes off the tiny creature. “What if it’s cursed or something.”

“Never mind that just look her over, she inhaled a lot of smoke.”

The paramedic reluctantly did his job, interacting with the tiny borrower like she was a diseased pest.

After the paramedic finished, Mike was quick to scoop Lucy up. He could tell she was frightened the entire time his coworker was manhandling her.

The girl's brow furrowed. "But...where are you taking me?" Her voice was barely a squeak to Mike's ears.

"Somewhere, you'll be safe."

Mike felt a pang of guilt seeing the sadness that crossed the girl's face. He knew she likely had a home here that was now destroyed. But he couldn't just set her loose, not at her size. She needed protection.

Arriving at his truck, Mike carefully lifted the girl out and placed her on the passenger seat. He dug out a small old rodent cage out of his trunk, one he kept for rescue animals.

"Just for now, until we figure things out," he said apologetically as he deposited the girl inside.

She grasped the bars, conflicted emotions playing across her face: gratitude that this human had saved her life and longing for the freedom she had lost. She hoped his kindness would extend to letting her go someday. “I’m not an animal; you can’t keep me!”

Mike latched the cage door, hating to confine the little thing. But it was the only way to keep her safe on the ride home. They would work things out. He was determined to earn her trust. He would protect this fragile life. “This is for your own good; you won’t want for anything with me.”

****

Mike carried the small cage into his apartment, the tiny girl gazing around with wide eyes at her giant surroundings. He set her down gently on the kitchen table.

"Are you hungry?" he asked. "Thirsty?"

The girl nodded hesitantly. Mike opened the cage door but she made no move to exit.

He rummaged through his pantry, looking for something suitably small. He held up a cracker crumb. "How about this?"

The girl crept forward and nibbled at the crumb. As she ate, Mike stared in fascination, still struggling to believe such a tiny person existed. He felt a rush of possessiveness. He’d keep her safe.

Despite her appetite, the girl kept glancing warily at Mike's enormous hands. He felt a pang, hating that she saw him as a threat. He wanted her to feel safe here.

"I know this is strange," he said gently. "But I promise, I mean you no harm. You can stay here, where no one will find you."

The girl looked uncertain and scared. Mike understood her longing for freedom. But the world was too dangerous for one so small and vulnerable. He could protect her here, keep her hidden away. Surely, she would come to appreciate that in time.

The girl said nothing, but her eyes told Mike she remained unconvinced. He would just have to earn her trust, day by day. For now, she was here, and she was safe. That was what mattered.

****

Mike closed the cage door softly once the girl had finished eating. She retreated to the back corner, eyeing him warily.

He sat watching her for a while, still mesmerized. He noticed she was shivering slightly. Carefully, he opened the cage again and placed a small scrap of cloth inside, like a blanket. After some hesitation, the girl wrapped it around herself.

"There, that's better," Mike murmured.

The girl blinked at him with her huge eyes. Mike felt that same tug in his chest. He wanted to understand her, know her story. How had she survived alone for so long? What was her life like?

He knew it would take time to gain her trust. But Mike was patient. He would start by making her feel comfortable here. He wondered how long it would take for her to stop flinching at his touch. He just wanted to hold and pet her. He had plenty of experience taming feral cats on his family farm. He knew it took time. He imagined that, with her size, she was very similar to prey animals. It’s just natural to be afraid. She’d appreciate him one day, and plus, she’d make such a good little companion.

Tomorrow, he could build her some furniture scaled to her size and get supplies from a dollhouse shop—tiny dishes, clothes, books. Bit by bit, he would make this cage feel more like a home.

There were challenges ahead, but also possibilities. This chance encounter felt meant to be. Mike would care for this little one, keeping her safe in his big world. It never crossed his mind that she would resent him for keeping her as a pet. After all, she wasn’t human—just a tiny creature that would have a better chance of survival with him.

For now, the girl needed rest. Mike turned off the lights, enveloping the room in darkness.

#g/t writing #giant/tiny #g/t #the-borrowers-au #kept as a pet #giant means well but misses the mark #possessive giant #giant doesn't understand how tiny can fend for herself #g/t writers #giant means well a little to well

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bylerspookie · 10 months

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it's actually canon that Mike didn't fall in love with El at first sight fight me

firstly, that's just terrible writing. many writers, including the Duffers, have literally made fun of this trope.

remember Eden and Argyle??? THEY WERE LITERALLY MAKING FUN OF THE TROPE.

and they have Mike, right behind them, looking disgusted. in fact, that entire scene is queercoding for Mike but that's another story...

remember this?:

Mike, watching Lucas and Mike crush on Max:

Dustin/Lucas: She's awesome.

Mike: Awesome?? You haven't even spoken a word to her.

Mike, talking to Max:

Max: Why do you hate me so much?

Mike: Hate you? How can I hate you? I don't even know you.

REALLY GUYS??

you're all stupid if you think Mike's monologue was truthful and made to destroy Byler, it was literally made to destroy Mileven, why do you think El was ignoring Mike afterwards???

it goes down to the fact that Mike said I love you to El 9 times (9 represents failure in st), the fact that he talks about what she wears (it's a direct quote from Eddie), the fact that Eleven looks hurt when he says it, the fact that she loses (and Vecna just??? let it happen?? he knew it was gonna cause failure), the lights were flickering in a way of anger, not of love (we see how the lights look when she channels love vs when she channels anger), the fact that Will was right behind him in frame and literally had to rub his back and call him pets names in order for Mike to say it even though El was literally dying, the fact that Mike had to brace himself, the fact that "You're the heart" and "you're different" line up perfectly, the fact that he-

IF I GO ON I WON'T BE ABLE TO STOP.

#byler #mikes monologue #byler is real #byler is canon #byler is endgame #mike wheeler #byler nation #will byers #stranger things #mike wheeler is queer

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aliea82 · 4 months

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Saw this

And then this would not leave my head!

Words:3807 cw:bullying, discrption of injury, injury care.

"I am not yours to protect"

Steve stands against the side of his car as he waits for the kids to emerge from School. It was their monthly Friday night treat, Steve would take them all out for dinner and then to see a movie.

Eddie had started to join them, making the ride less cramped as he would take Dustin, Mike and Lucas, while Steve had El, Max, Will and sometimes Erica if she didn’t have plans with her friends.

As the bell rang he watched the crowds of kids leave, slowly disappearing from the school grounds until Steve stood alone still, a frown on his face.

Just as he went to push away from the car El and Max appeared running towards him, worry on both their faces.

Moving towards them he caught them both by their shoulders as they started talking over each other.

‘Wow, wow, slow down, one at a time guys.’

They both stopped, and then with a silent look at each other Max started to talk.

‘Eddie, he...he was meant to meet Dustin before coming out and when he didn’t he got worried. You know how he’s been struggling since coming back.’

‘Yeah, I do.’ Eddie was quiet about the bullying, but Dustin wasn’t, keeping Steve in the know about how the jocks still had it out for Eddie despite his name being cleared.

‘Dustin found Eddie, but he won’t come out.’

‘Okay, show me.’

El grabbed Steve’s hand while Max led them both into the school.

Steve tried to keep his cool, kept telling himself things couldn’t be that bad, that he knew Eddie could stand up for himself, had seen it, but the way Max was, the worry clear as day on her face made it hard for him to keep calm.

‘They had been at him all day.’ El spoke quietly as they made their way towards the gym changing rooms.

‘What do you mean?’

‘The ex-basketball guys, they...they kept at him all day, in the hall, at breaks, during lunch, they didn’t stop.’

When they got to the changing rooms the girls stopped, staying outside while Steve went in finding the boys minus Dustin, by the lockers.

‘What’s going on?’

‘He won’t come out, Dustin is in there trying to talk to him, but he refuses to leave and he won’t tell us why.’ Lucas explains looking towards the shower blocks.

‘Okay,’ he grabbed his keys from his jacket giving them to Will. ‘Go wait for me by the car, take the girls as well.’

He didn’t expect an argument and was almost proud as they did as they were told, leaving him as he walked into the shower blocks.

The sound of water filled the area as well as Dustin’s voice talking gently.

Dustin was stood right at the end of the long hall of shower cubicles, talking through the curtain, but stopping as he saw Steve.

The worry on the kid’s face matched that of his friends, but there was more than worry etched on Dustin’s face, there was anger also, something Steve hadn’t really seen before.

‘Eddie, Steve’s here.’

There was a reply but Steve couldn’t make it out through the closed curtain and falling water.

Dustin walked towards him, his eyes sad and furious at the same time.

‘I don’t know what they did, he won’t tell me, and he refuses to open the curtain or come out.’

‘It’s okay, I’ll see what I can do. Go meet the others at the car.’

Dustin just nods leaving Steve without another word.

Making his way down to the last stall, Steve stands quietly for a moment listening to the sound of the water before reaching out to the curtain.

‘Eddie, can I come in?’

‘Please don’t.’

Steve hesitates, his fingers curling into themselves.

‘It’s just me, the kids have gone, they won’t see.’

He waited a moment before gently moving the curtain aside, his heart hammering against his chest, bracing himself for what could be on the other side.

The sound of the water increased as he pulled the curtain back, but he became deaf as he looked down at his friend, huddled against the cubicle wall, water falling over his already soaked hair and clothes, bare feet placed on the floor, arms wrapped tightly around his legs, his face buried against his knees.

All around him were words, spray-painted on the walls, horrible, hateful words, some bleeding down the walls, colouring the water going down the drain, but most stark and vivid.

Murderer

Freak

Fag

Killer

Fagot

Loser

Steve stared, anger building, he couldn’t believe after all these months, after it was proven beyond reasonable doubt that Eddie was innocent, that this was still happening.

How dare anyone treat him this way.

Eddie was kind, gentle, funny, a nerd and a geek at his very core, someone the kids looked up to and loved to hang out with.

He didn’t deserve this.

‘Jesus,’ Steve reached out, turning off the water, wincing as ice-cold water soaked his arm.

Then, without a care in the world, he knelt before Eddie, the knees of his jeans instantly soaking up the water.

‘Eddie, can I touch you?’

Consent was crucial to Eddie, ever since the upside down and then months of hospital treatment, Eddie hated to be touched unexpectedly, but if he knew it was coming he sought it out, loving the attention, the affection. Steve would find him curled up on the sofa with El or Dustin watching TV, the two kids having formed a bond with Eddie the others hadn’t. Dustin for obvious reasons, El because as far as Eddie was concerned she deserved all the love and affection he could give after learning her full story.

When it came to Steve however, as soon as Steve asked for permission, Eddie couldn’t seem to get enough of the attention Steve wished to give him.

They had spent hours snuggled up on Steve’s bed, listening to music, talking shit and falling asleep together. Steve would spend movie nights playing with Eddie’s hair as Eddie sat at his feet, with El and Max using his legs as pillows.

But Eddie needed to give consent, it was a known rule amongst the group, one they all stuck to because they had all seen the consequences of unexpected touch.

So Steve waited, watching carefully for Eddie to give him the okay, which came in the form of Eddie’s fingers reaching out towards Steve.

As soon as Steve touched him, a sob escaped Eddie’s throat, and Steve pulled Eddie towards him, uncaring as his clothes instantly soaked through.

Wrapping his arms around Eddie, he held him close as Eddie buried his face against Steve’s neck crying hard as he clutched at Steve’s jacket.

‘I’ve got you baby, it’s okay, I’m here.’

Steve didn’t register the name he gave Eddie, he just held his friend, giving him the comfort he needed, his hand on wet curls, his other arm holding him tightly while he pressed kisses into the wet skin at Eddie’s temple.

It took a while for Eddie to calm down, his cries slowly stopping, but he held Steve as though he was a lifeline and Steve wasn’t going to let him go first.

When Eddie finally pulled away slightly, Steve pulled back as well, but only enough to look at Eddie’s face.

What he saw was heartbreaking.

They had beaten him.

His right eye was swollen shut, he had bruising around his jaw and his lip was split, blood oozing slowly from it. He was wearing a black tank top and Steve noted the bruising on his arms and the split skin on his knuckles, something he hadn’t registered before now.

‘Who?’

Steve demanded without thought, his anger overwhelming and clear in his voice causing Eddie to shrink back slightly.

Steve instantly berated himself, his face softening, his voice turning gentle.

‘I’m sorry, I’m not mad at you, I...’ he paused, stopping himself from needing to know who had done this. Eddie didn’t need to be answering questions right now, right now he needed to be taken care of.

‘Can you stand?’

Eddie looks at him with his one good eye for a moment before nodding. Steve helps him, then stops, taking him in once again.

‘Can you tell me where hurts the most.’ He was worried about possible broken ribs, even bruised ribs, he was also worried about his still-healing scars.

‘My face, they...they stayed away from my sides.’

With this knowledge, Steve assessed him again and could see what happened.

They had jumped him, he had fought back, getting in a few good punches before being caught, his arms held, before being punched several times in the face.

It was common knowledge about Eddie’s injuries, blasted all over the papers, deemed necessary to prove his innocence, that he too had almost died. Who ever had done this didn’t want to kill him, and so stayed away from his injuries, not wanting to cause what could be deadly damage.

‘Okay, let’s get you some dry clothes...where are your shoes?’

Eddie shrugged letting Steve lead him towards the lockers.

‘Did they take them?’

‘Yeah, and my rings, and ch...chain.’

Steve reined in his anger, he had to keep calm.

Together they got Eddie into dry clothes, consisting of school logoed sweatpants and hoodie, something he was sure Eddie had never worn in his whole school career. But they were warm and better than the freezing wet clothes he did have on.

They couldn’t find Eddie’s shoes anywhere so he ended up putting on a couple of pairs of socks on each foot just to warm them up.

‘Okay, so, what do you want me to do? The kids are waiting outside, you can’t drive. I can send Dustin and El in while I take the others home.’

‘I can drive.’

‘Not with your eye like that, and not without shoes.’

‘I can drive barefoot.’

‘I’m sure you can, but not today. So, Dustin and El?’

Eddie almost glares at him, or at least Steve thinks it is a glare, but with one eye swollen shut it didn’t have any intensity behind it.

‘Okay.’

‘Good, right, I won’t be long, okay?’

Eddie nods from the bench, his hands clenched together as he looks down.

Steve looks at him, before kneeling before him, his hands hovering over Eddie’s knees before Eddie nods again, and his hands fall onto his legs.

‘You’re safe now, I won’t let them hurt you, not ever again.’

‘You can’t promise that Steve.’

‘I can, and I will.’

‘What...You can’t protect me, not all the time.’

Steve sighs, his thumbs running gently over Eddie’s legs.

‘I need you to trust me.’

Eddie holds his eyes, searching them.

‘You don’t know who it was.’

‘I have a pretty good idea.’

‘You can’t do anything, I leave soon anyway, so why bother?’

‘I’m not going to let them get away with this Ed’s.’

‘I won’t tell you who did it.’

‘I already told you, I know who.’

‘What if you’re wrong?’

‘Am I?’

Eddie falls silent, his head lowering.

‘I don’t need saving, not this time.’

‘Eddie, ba-‘ he cuts himself off, knowing this time what he was about to say, ‘It’s not about saving you, it’s about making sure they understand that they can’t do this to people. What if this happened to one of the kids, to El?’

That was a low shot, El had been having problems when she first joined the school. The kids had rallied, Max and Mike especially, but it was Eddie who had put an end to it, stepping in when El had cried in his arms.

Steve knew Eddie would do anything for the kids, just like Steve would. But Eddie needed to understand that Steve wouldn’t let this go, that he would do anything to make sure he was safe.

‘Just...be quick, I want to go home.’

He stands, his hand going to the back of Eddie’s head as he leans in, his forehead pressing to Eddie.

‘I’ll be as quick as I can.’

He presses a kiss to Eddie’s forehead before heading quickly to his car.

Eddie huddled in the back of the car, El playing softly with his hair while Dustin sat up front, his eyes watching the two in the back through the mirror.

Steve drove carefully, hands tight on the steering wheel.

‘He refuses to tell me who did it.’ Dustin says, his voice quiet.

‘It’s okay, I’ll sort it out.’

‘It has to been the ex team, they had been harassing him all day.’

‘Dustin, let it drop.’ He looks through the mirror, catching Eddie’s eye as he lent against El’s shoulder.

Dustin huffed, his arms crossing as he falls silent.

Steve knew he meant well, but the priority right now was Eddie, not the shit bags that had done this.

He dropped off the kids at Mike’s house, the kids gathering there for the night instead of going out.

Steve was pretty sure they would spend the night plotting.

He stopped El as Dustin went ahead, his hand gentle on her arm.

‘Don’t be stupid.’

She looks at him, her head tilting slightly. She knew what he meant, he didn’t want her to go looking, to lead the kids anywhere that could get them hurt. Monster hunters or not, at the end of the day they were still kids and humans were a whole different ball game.

She nods once, not saying a word before following Dustin into the house.

Getting back into the car, it’s to find Eddie up front, leaning his head back against the seat, eye’s closed.

‘Yours or mine?’

‘Yours, Wayne is working a double.’

‘Right.’

As they drive, Eddie stays quiet, his hands clenched, shaking ever so slightly.

Getting to the house, he goes to help Eddie out but the other brushes him off, heading to the house on his own.

Once inside Eddie disappears to the bathroom leaving Steve standing in the hall.

He waited a moment before heading to the phone and calling Robin.

‘Buckley house hold.’ It was her mum.

‘Hey Mrs Buckley, is Robin about?’

‘Hi Steve, yeah let me get her.’

Hearing her call Robin he waited, keeping his eyes on the stairs waiting for Eddie to return.

‘Hey babe, what’s up? Need help wrangling the kids?’

‘What happened with Eddie today?’

‘What?’

‘Eddie was cornered in the showers, he’s been...they...what did you see?’

‘Eddie said he had it under control, I...oh god, I should have called you. They had been at him all day, little things, but he seemed totally unfazed by it all. He was being himself and I just thought he was ignoring them. What did they do?’

‘It was the ex team right?’

‘Yeah, Andy led the charge, he’s been queen Bee since Jason... Steve, I honestly thought he was okay, I would have called if I thought it would go like this.’

‘Cover for me this weekend, I wont be in, let Keith know I’m sick or something.’

‘Sure, but Steve, promise you won’t do anything stupid.’

He was silent and he heard her sigh on the other end.

‘Look after him.’ She finally says.

‘I always do.’

He hung up and headed to the kitchen, putting the kettle on and setting up two mugs, one with coffee the other tea before grabbing the first aid kit from on top of the fridge and taking out what he needed.

Finishing up the drinks he set them on the kitchen island and sat down, waiting.

When Eddie came down he had changed into clothes of his own, as well as Steve’s own black knitted jumper, something Steve had gotten while Eddie was still in hospital, it had become their jumper, Eddie normally wearing it after Steve.

Steve found himself watching him, as he sat down, taking the mug of tea and holding it in his still trembling hands.

‘Can I check you over?’

There was a small nod, so he got up and gently reached out to Eddie taking his right hand and looking at the cuts and swelling.

‘Can you make a fist?’

The hand slowly curls into it self and Steve is satisfied nothing is broken, just bruised and sore. He did the same with the left hand before putting antiseptic cream on both and then wrapping them to help with the swelling.

He moved on his arms, gently rolling up the sleeves, the bruising obviously caused by being held, finger imprints all up his arms. He gently rubbed in ointment to help with bruising, apologising with every hiss Eddie made.

He quickly checked his sides, despite Eddie’s reassurance that they hadn’t touched him there, he just had to make sure.

Once happy he moved onto Eddie’s face, breaking a cold pack and instructing Eddie to hold it over his eye while he tended to the split lip and bruised jaw.

He then gently felt around the swollen eye, his fingers searching for the feeling of a broken eye socket, a feeling he knew well from the Russian encounter.

As he held Eddie’s face, he could feel Eddie watching him, his good eye never once leaving his face.

‘Don’t be stupid.’

Steve glanced at him, holding his gaze before going back to the damaged eye.

‘Nothing is broken, luckily, but you’re going to have a swollen eye for a while and a hell of a black eye when it settles.’

He got Eddie to place the ice pack back over his eye before gently checking through the still wet curls.

‘Back of my head. I fell, not sure how bad it is.’

Steve moved Eddie’s head down so it rested against his chest so he could search through wet strands, wincing himself as he found a deep gash and an egg sized lump.

‘Shit, okay, maybe I should have taken you to hospital. Why didn’t you tell me when I asked where you hurt?’

‘Cause you would have taken me to hospital.’

Sighing, Steve stayed quiet as he cleaned the wound as best he could, it had already stopped bleeding and the shower at the school had cleaned most of the blood from Eddie’s hair.

‘I’m going to have to keep an eye on you, you definitely will have concussion.’

‘If it means you can’t leave, I’m glad.’

Steve tensed, his hands stilling on Eddie’s head.

Eddie looked up, a smirk on his lips.

‘I’m not stupid, I knew you would leave and go off to be some stupid vigilantly hero the moment I fell asleep or something.’

‘They hurt you.’

‘I know, I was there.’

‘You should have called me.’

Eddie tilted his head, a habit he had picked up from El.

‘I’m not yours to protect.’

‘Yes ,you are.’

‘I’m not one of the kids Steve, hell I’m older than you, I can look after myself.’

Steve moved his hands to Eddie’s face as he tried to turn away, holding him in place.

‘I know you can, I’ve seen it, time and time again. But they obviously got the upper hand this time and I can’t...I can’t let that stand. I can’t let them get away with this.’

‘Again, I am not yours to protect.’

Suddenly his heart was racing, his eyes held Eddie’s as his fingers gently moved over damaged skin.

‘Yes, you are.’ He repeated, softer than the time before. ‘You...God. You have been mine for months.’

Eddie had gone still, his eye searching.

‘I don’t understand.’

‘I fucking love you is what I mean, I have been in love with you for months, and this is the worst time to bloody confess it because I will not let our first kiss be when your face is busted up, and you have a damn concussion.’

Eddie slowly smiled.

‘You want to kiss me?’

‘More than you will ever know.’

Eddie lowered the ice pack from his face, placing it on the side so he could pull Steve closer, slotting him between his legs.

‘So all it took was for me to get the shit kicked out of me for you to confess?’

‘What? No! Bloody hell. I...I wanted to tell you, to make it special, to take you on a date. Robin has been helping me plan it all.’

‘So when was this all going to happen?’

‘After you graduated, I didn’t want to distract you, I wanted you to get your diploma, and I was going to tell you then.’

‘That’s months away.’

‘I know, I was being patient.’

‘What if I didn’t want to?’

Steve felt his world drop from under him, his hands dropping to his side.

‘You...you don’t want to?’

‘Steve, sweetheart, I meant, what if I didn’t want to wait.’

‘Oh...ohhh.’ Steve smiled, his hands moving back to rest on Eddie’s shoulders.

‘You want me too?’

‘Jesus Harrington, I’ve been flirting for months. I thought you were just being nice, but then you flirted back. You let me be me, always, I feel more at ease when you are around. So yeah, I want you too.’

They stare at each other, the need for more palpable between them.

‘I still wont kiss you.’

Eddie groaned, leaning his head against Steve’s chest.

‘So mean.’

‘I know, but we have waited this long, a few more days won’t hurt.’

‘Might hurt.’

‘It really wont.’

‘Promise you won’t go after them.’

‘Eddie-‘

‘No,’ he looked up, his eye wide. ‘Promise me.’

‘I can’t.’ He moves his hand back to Eddie’s face, ‘I can’t not do anything.’

‘They are all just a bunch of ex-jocks, sore because they lost their spot due to a stupid vendetta that got their leader killed. I’m not afraid of them.’

Steve thought back to the shower cubicle, to the words written around him, to him crying in his arms.

‘I can’t let them hurt you again.’

‘I promise to never let them get me alone again.’

‘No, because like me that’s not a promise you could keep. Please baby, please just trust me to sort this out.’

Eddie smiled, and it would have been bright if not for the split lip and swollen eye.

‘Baby huh?’

‘Yeah, and stop changing the subject.’

‘Fine, but you do it with Hopper with you.’

Steve sighed, his wings being clipped with those words.

‘Fine, okay, I’ll take Hopper.’

‘Good.’

They fall silent, just looking at each other, the tension high.

‘I really don’t know how we will last, I really want to kiss you right now.’

Steve moved his thumb to Eddie’s split lip, pressing slightly causing Eddie to wince and pull back.

‘Really?’

‘Fine, you win, we will wait.’

‘Good boy.’

‘Holy shit...okay, that will not stand, when I’m healed I’ll show you that I am definitely not a good boy.’

‘Looking forward to it.'

#steddie #eddie munson #stranger things #steve harrington #ao3 author #steve and eddie #steddie drabble #thank you #ao3 #ao3 writer #aliea82 writes

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withlovewriting · 2 months

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All I Ever Knew, Only You 14: Light 'Em Up

Chapter Fourteen.

So bright, the flames burned in our hearts, That we found each other in the dark, Black beast, out in the wilderness, We are fighting to survive and convalesce, But we're gonna live, we're gonna live, at last, Then I heard the church bells from afar, But we found each other in the dark

Summary: Hawkins was your typical quaint, mid-western town where nothing ever happened. People were born here, lived their entire lives within the town limits, and eventually died here, peacefully in their sleep. But one cold November evening in 1983 would change everything.

Despite a child with psychokinetic abilities and ravenous monsters that lacked faces, stranger things had definitely happened in the small town in Indiana. One of them being your reluctant and slightly imposed friendship with Hawkins High’s own King Bee, Steve Harrington.

Characters: Steve Harrington x Non-descriptive F!Reader (eventual)

Words: 5,726

Chapter Warnings: Explicit language, mentions of injuries, fluff, Protective!Hopper here for duty, the death of dart that i am still not over, attempted suicide in the absolute most minimal way i promise (you'll understand when you read it i promise, everyone is good everything is fine i just don't know how else to label it), i am now totally unsure which one is the bigger idiot.

Series Warnings: Strong language, mentions of underage drinking, mentions of drug use, canon-typical violence, mentions of alcohol abuse, mentions of possible mental health disorders, child abuse, slow burn, kinda enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, I like to call it ‘two idiots who begrudgingly befriend each other only to realize… ‘wait a damn minute…’, eventual sexual content, no use of y/n, canon-typical time-period bullshit. 18+. Minors DNI.

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Chapter Fourteen: Light 'Em Up

The tires of the blue Camero groaned in discontent, screeching as the car finally came to a stop with half of Merrill’s pumpkin sign still attached to it.

Steve had progressively become more awake, and also more panicked during the ride, and despite the pain you’d be in any time you had to brace during Max’s overzealous drive, you couldn’t deny the fact that had any of the boys driven, you probably wouldn’t have made it out of the Byers’ driveway.

“Told you. Zoomer.” Max told them proudly before pushing open her door and allowing Mike to climb out, followed by Dustin as you and Steve were left to clamber — or in Steve’s case, fall — out of the too-small backseats.

You made your way around to the trunk, grabbing goggles as the kids tied their bandannas around their faces. You didn’t have much time to look for real supplies, and you just prayed that what you had would suffice.

Either way, it would have to do.

Steve groaned as he pulled himself up from the floor where he’d all but rolled to, his face beaten and swollen slightly as he stumbled for a moment whilst he tried to get his bearings.

“No… Guys. Hey, where do you think you’re going?” He questioned Mike as the younger boy strolled right past him, can of gasoline in hand, “What are you, deaf? Hello? We are not going down there right now. I made myself clear. There is no chance we’re going to the hole, all right?”

You passed Steve, too focused on the task at hand to bother yourself with his dramatics, and instead handed Mike a rope as the older boy continued to emphasize his argument. Walking back around to the trunk to grab your own gear, Steve’s hand shot out, the boy stumbling a little as he held on to you.

“This ends now!”

Shrugging his hand off, you sent him a sharp glare whilst Dustin finally responded, “Steve, you’re upset, I get it. But the bottom line is, a party member requires assistance, and it is our duty to provide that assistance.”

Dustin stormed off, making his way toward the group as they began to lower items into the hole whilst Steve stood — still a little dazed — and inhaled deeply. You could tell he was frustrated, but at least he wasn’t yelling about it anymore.

“He’s not wrong.”

“You too? I thought we were on the same side here.” Steve sighed, his tired eyes roaming over your face. The boy had perfected the kicked puppy dog look.

Biting your bottom lip, you moved closer to the boy and placed your hand on his arm that was leaning against the open car door, “We are on the same side, okay? Look, these kids are gonna go down there whether we go with them or not. If you need to stay up here, that’s fine. I get it. But I’m not letting them go down there alone, especially not with those things running around.”

Steve sighed, tightly squeezing his eyes closed, “We said we’d keep them safe…”

Your hand moved from Steve’s forearm, hovering over his bruised knuckles for just a second before gently squeezing his hand, causing the boy’s eyes to pop open almost comically, “So let's keep them safe. You got this, Steve. We got this.”

Your left hand grabbed a backpack from the trunk containing a bandanna, goggles and Steve’s trusty nailed bat. You held it out to him with bated breath, waiting for his decision. After the relentless attack from Billy, you wouldn’t blame him if he decided he needed a time-out. Your own head was throbbing, you couldn’t begin to imagine how his felt.

Nor could you ignore the relief that flooded your bones when he took the bag from you, a simple nod from the boy before you began to pull on your own gear.

In usual Steve fashion, the boy demanded he go first into the hole to check it out and make sure there wasn’t a pack of hungry Demo-dogs waiting underneath for you all to drop directly into their open mouths.

“Holy shit,” Steve gazed around the tunnel as the rest of you dropped down, Mike pulling out a map before setting off in the direction he believed would lead you all to the hive mind.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hey. I don’t think so. Any of you little shits die down here, we’re getting the blame. Got it, dipshit?” Steve grumbled, pushing past Mike, “From here on out, I’m leading the way. Come on, let's go.”

You all began to follow him, no questions asked as Steve led the group and you brought up the rear. By the time you were deep enough into the tunnels, you were ready to throw your flashlight at him. A little hustle this, and c’mon, pick up the pace that.

You’d almost forgotten that he was captain of both the basketball team and the swim team and was more than comfortable ordering people around.

Vines wrapped their way along the long floors, keeping you conscious of where you were stepping, as if they might leap out at you any second and dangle you upside down, and the particles of something floating in the air made you cautious that maybe the bandannas you all wore were not enough to keep your respiratory system safe and working.

You felt like your head was turning every few seconds, paranoia from the Demo-dogs, as well as uncharted tunnels, making you feel on edge and Dustin’s sudden screaming really didn’t discourage that.

Rushing toward the boy as he fell to the ground, his shouts desperate enough to rattle your bones, you grabbed at him as he flinched away, unaware of your presence until you managed to get him to look at you, the boy calling for his friends as the group quickly returned.

Slipping from your grasp as he continued to flail about, the group surrounded him, “What happened?”

“It’s in my mouth! Some got in my mouth! Shit!”

He began to hack up a cough as you pulled down your bandanna, trying to catch Dustin’s attention as you called his name, pulling his face into your hands, all but forcing the boy to look up at you,

“Dustin, relax!”

Gulping in a large breath of air, the boy finally settled, his blue eyes peering into yours, “I’m okay…”

“You serious?”

“Very funny, man. Nice. Very nice.”

The group continued on, murmuring under their breath as you helped pick the boy back up, a possibly too-hard whack to the back of his cap to send him on his way after you pulled up your own bandanna once more.

This was going to be a long night.

“Alright, Wheeler,” Steve sighed, flashlight pointed at the crossroad of tunnels surrounding you, “I think we found your hub.”

“Let’s drench it.”

And so you got to work, covering the walls and surrounding tunnel entrances in gasoline. Turning toward Steve, who was busy pouring out his own canister, you pulled your bandanna down once more,

“Are you sure you won’t, like… light up like a Christmas tree?”

Steve’s brow cocked, the only hint that he was silently questioning you.

“You know, with all that hairspray, are you sure you’re not flammable?”

Despite not being able to see his facial features, you felt it in your soul when Steve was glaring at you, causing a smirk to pull one side of your mouth upward.

“Ha ha, very funny,” the boy’s monotonous tone only caused your smile to broaden as he moved closer toward you, the tips of his sneakers knocking your own slightly as he reached forward with his free hand, rubber glove gently gripping the bandanna that now loosely hung around your neck and pulling it back over your nose, “And stop pulling this down. We don’t know what’s floating around down here.”

Rolling your eyes, you secured the cloth a little tighter around your face and wondered how ridiculous you all looked.

“You guys ready?” Steve asked once you were all standing at the entrance to the tunnel you came from.

“Light her up,” Dustin confirmed as Steve pulled out his lighter.

You felt his dark eyes peering up at you from where he knelt on the floor, “We are in such deep shit.”

You placed a hand over Max’s shoulder, pushing the girl in front of you as the tunnels lit up, an unbearable and unforgiving heat beating across your face as you watched the vines along the floor begin to dance along the embers. Everything really was connected, and you could only hope this didn’t hurt Will more than it had to.

“C’mon, go!” Steve pulled you along by the wrist, only letting go once he was certain your feet would follow, as he pushed his way to lead the group once more, “This way!”

Unfortunately for you, you were running just behind Mike when he took a tumble — a thick vine wrapping around his ankle and slowly dragging him across the floor — causing you to trip right over him, your own ankle rolling under your weight as you failed to catch yourself on the sharp walls of the tunnel.

Mike’s screaming caught the attention of the group as you tried to drag yourself toward the thick vine, unable to untangle it as it fought against you, only tightening its grip on the boy. Despite struggling to pull off your backpack, you finally managed to pull the ax that you were yet to return to Mrs. Byers and hobbled to your feet, balancing on your one good foot as you swung at the vine, cursing as you lost your balance and tumbled toward the wall.

A shrill screech seemed to emit from the vines as they curled up, releasing the boy's ankle as Steve’s bat connected with it once, twice, three times.

Lucas and Dustin pulled Mike up, a tight grip on their friend as they checked him over whilst Steve turned to you, eyes wide even under his goggles as he looked from your face to your ankle, and back again, noting your flamingo-like posture,

“You good?”

Before you could respond, a growl from behind the group stopped you all in your tracks.

A Demo-dog stood on all fours, large mouth opening, and closing as it continued its inhuman noises. Dustin watched for a moment, head cocked slightly to the right.

“Dart.”

When the monster didn’t immediately attack, seemingly checking out the boy in front of him — friend or foe? Possibly even snack — Dustin stepped forward, despite everyone pleading for him to stay where he was.

“Shh, stop. Trust me, please.”

Dustin remained eerily calm as he slowly approached the dog, the monster taking a few cautionary steps closer too, meeting him near the middle of the tunnel.

“Hey, it’s me. It’s your friend, it’s Dustin,” the boy pulled down his bandanna before lifting his goggles in hopes the monster would recognize him, “It’s Dustin, all right? You remember me? Will you let us pass?”

The monster snarled at him, revealing far too many sharp teeth for your liking, but remained in place. If it wanted to, it easily could’ve ripped Dustin apart by now. You knew that as well as the boy did. But this… thing, something about this one was different. Maybe it really was Dart, and maybe, he and Dustin had formed some kind of weird, fucked up human/alternate-dimensional-creature bond in the few days it had taken Dart to sprout four legs and a mouth full of teeth.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’m sorry about the storm cellar. That was a pretty douchey thing to do. You hungry? Yeah?” Dustin reached into his backpack, pulling out what looked like a Three Musketeers bar, “I’ve got our favorite, see? Nougat.”

As Dustin opened the wrapper, the creature slowly padded toward him, much like a family dog might’ve. Once Dart began to eat, Dustin shooed the rest of you through, Steve holding you up as you hobbled alongside him.

Once everyone had passed, Dustin stood, pulling down his goggles as he moved past to follow the group, turning around as Dart did the same, “Goodbye, buddy.”

As your group rushed back looking for where the rope to safety dangled, leading back up to the surface, the whole tunnel system seemed to shift, rumbling and sending you all in different directions.

“What was that?” Max asked, turning in the direction of… roaring?

“They’re coming. Run! Run!”

Steve lifted Max up first, the girl pulling herself up the rope with no problem, quickly followed by Lucas and then Mike. Dustin was halfway up the rope, clutching to his friend's hands when you saw the first shadow of a Demo-dog on the wall.

“Harrington,” you swallowed, heart pounding against your rib cage, eyes beginning to water as you realized your fate.

“I know, I know…” Steve panicked, gripping his bat in his hands as he shouldered Dustin a little further up, “Go, c’mon, get up-”

You both knew you didn’t have enough time for the two of you to get back out to safety and somehow, Steve had continuously surprised you in these life-and-death situations — especially when it was between his life and your death — constantly putting his safety on the line. Back last year with the Demogorgon, hell, even earlier that evening at the Junkyard.

This time… This time, it was your turn.

“We’re not gonna both make it up there in time. You need to go.”

His head swiveled around so quickly, you were sure he almost gave himself whiplash, but you didn’t give him enough time to disagree as you rearranged the ax in your grip, holding it high and standing your ground despite your shaking hands, “I’m not gonna get up there quickly, it’s pointless. Just go. Please.”

Ignoring the crack of your voice, and the shouting from the kids above you, Steve shook his head, eyes darting between yourself and the incoming monsters, their roaring getting closer and closer, “No, I-”

“Go, Steve!”

“Not without you.”

Snapping your own head toward the boy, you both stood silently as the few seconds that passed felt like hours, before finally accepting your fate.

The kids would be safe. But you were doing this. You and Steve would foolishly take on a pack of Demo-dogs.

Despite Steve’s eyes flicking back to the tunnel, yours remained on him as you tried to swallow down the fear that was crawling up your throat, clutching at your vocal cords and making it impossible to speak.

The first Demo-dog rushed around the corner, but you barely saw a flash of it as you were suddenly spinning around, Steve’s chest colliding with your back as he gripped you with one hand, turning your body behind his.

When the pained cries and shouting and screaming didn’t come, your eyes peeled open, watching as the dogs ran straight past you, entering a different tunnel and paying both you and Steve no mind.

Once the echoes of their rushed feet had disappeared, the tunnel remained silent, even the kids above were in shocked silence. Blood rushed in your ears, as your body shook, the ax falling from your grip and landing by your feet.

Steve’s labored breaths pushed his chest into your back repeatedly, and you weren’t quite sure if it was your heartbeat or his that you could feel.

His grip remained tight around your waist, rubber gloved fingers digging into your skin a little too tightly to be reassuring, yet you still leaned your weight against him, head bent backward at a mildly uncomfortably angle as you pulled down your bandanna and caught your breath, trying to work out if you were actually still alive.

It was only when he tilted his own head down, resting his chin on your shoulder that you flinched away — his panting a little too loud in your ear — the previous pain from earlier that evening finally ebbing its way back now that the adrenaline was finally dissipating from your veins.

“Eleven,” Mike shouted down, “She’s doing it, she’s closing the gate. Get out of there, now.”

Neither of you needed to be told twice, and once Steve had awkwardly lifted you halfway up the rope, allowing you to place your weight onto his shoulder as the other kids had helped you crawl out of the hole, he quickly followed after you just in time to watch the headlights beam on Billy’s car, momentarily blinding you all.

And, just as it had seemed last year…

It was over.

Steve had managed to drive to Hopper’s cabin thanks to your directions as the kids huddled in the backseat. Nobody uttered a word, and the car radio remained off the entire drive. The only words you spoke were a mumbled thank you as he assisted you out of the car, tucking your arm over his shoulders, his own hand wrapping back around your waist as he helped you slowly hobble toward the cabin.

You could only pray that whatever had its hold over Will was gone, leaving the boy unscathed and that Eleven and Hopper were alive and safe.

Thankfully, you’d spotted Hopper’s Chevvy hidden where he usually parked it between the trees and found yourself all but rushing toward the safety of the cabin.

The commotion from the kids must have alerted everyone to your appearance as the group, bar Will and Eleven, stepped out onto the porch, eyebrows pinched together, confused at your sudden appearance. The plan was for you to stay at the Byers and wait. It was clear to everyone that somehow, for some reason, that plan had changed.

You felt a whimper force its way out of your lips before you even recognized the sound as your own when you caught Hopper’s gaze, the man pushing through the small crowd outside the front door, his long legs reaching you quickly.

Steve released you from his grip as soon as the larger man approached, brows still furrowed on his face as he pulled you into a tight hug,

“What the hell happened to you guys?”

It took Steve a second to realize that Hopper’s attention was now directed toward him, his dark blue eyes taking in his bruised face.

“Uh, something came up. We… We couldn’t stay at the Byers. I know we said… I promised we’d look after the kids, but-”

“Can we talk about it later?” You sighed, hoping Hopper would take pity on your tired eyes and pained limp, “Eleven and Will… are they okay?”

Hopper helped you up the porch steps, a sweet smile sent Joyce’s way as she took your face between her warm palms and placed a kiss on your forehead, “They’re fine. Exhausted but… Alive. Safe.”

It felt like a weight had been lifted from your chest, the ability to finally inhale deeply causing your vision to blur a little. The plan had worked, and most of you had survived. Mike had already made his way into the cabin, grabbing at both Eleven and Will and pulling them into a tight hug, quickly followed by the rest of the kids, bar Max who hung back a little.

Joyce, however, moved her attention to the young girl, pulling her into a motherly hug, “Whatever you kids did tonight… Thank you.”

“Can we, uh… Clean up a little?” you turned toward Hopper, nodding toward the bathroom, knowing there was a first aid kit stashed in the medicine cabinet.

Hopper’s gaze switched between you and Steve before sending the latter a slight glare, despite his nod, “Head on through, do you want me to-”

“It’s fine, Hop. We won’t be long,” you sighed, trying to put as little weight onto your ankle as possible as you shuffled Steve into the too-small bathroom.

Once the folding door was shut, shutting out the quiet mumbles from the group, you let out a long, exasperated sigh, leaning on the door whilst Steve was already looking through the cabinet, pulling out the small box.

“Do you want to-”

“No, no… You sit down, I don’t think that ankle is gonna handle any more pressure on it tonight.” Steve interrupted, motioning for you to sit on the closed toilet as he nosed through the first aid supplies.

Finding some ointment for bruising and a clean cloth, Steve ran the tap until the water was warm, ringing out the excess water before standing in front of you, hesitating.

“Do you, uh-”

“I can’t exactly see the back of my head, Harrington.”

Nodding, Steve placed the cloth against the back of your head, a mumbled apology falling from his lips when you hissed in pain.

“Billy, he uh… He didn’t-”

“Billy didn’t touch me,” you sighed, “not really, anyway. Shoved me away from Lucas and I hit my head on the counter.”

An unintelligible grumble fell from Steve’s lips, his eyebrows almost connecting as he frowned, only deepening as you continued to speak, “I must say though, Harrington. I’m pleasantly surprised. You got in, what? At least three hits before-”

“Before he blindsided me by hitting me in the head with a plate?” Steve huffed, pulling away the cloth and rinsing it when he found only dried blood. He took a second to look over the wound, unsure as to what he was really even looking for.

“I mean, it’s Billy. Do you really expect him to play fair?”

Shrugging his shoulders, Steve groaned slightly as he bent down, resting on his knees as he lifted your ankle. After taking off your sneakers and socks, then rolling up your jeans a little, he turned your ankle cautiously as he inspected it. The skin had already begun to swell, and a deep red bruise was blossoming along the outer side of your heel,

“You really need to ice and rest this,” Steve placed the cold cloth against the skin and held it there, continuing to scrutinize your injury.

A small huff fell from your lips as you sent the top of his head a smirk, “Where did you get your Ph.D. from again?”

“I play sports,” Steve’s eyes met yours, an annoyed, but innocuous glare settling across his face as he peered up at you, “I’ve rolled my ankle enough times in Basketball to know how to deal with it.”

A high, mocking tune rumbled in your throat as you cocked a brow, “My bad, Harrington. Didn’t know you liked to play Doctors and Nurses in your spare time.”

“Why do you do that?” He interrupted thumb subconsciously grazing the part of your skin that the cloth didn’t reach.

Your face scrunched slightly, feeling a little too defensive already, “Do what?”

His shoulders slumped as a long sigh escaped his nose, but his eyes remained focused on you, “You know, I think tonight, when you were convincing me to follow those little assholes into the pits of Hell… I think that was the first time I’ve heard you actually call me by my name.”

“I call you it all the time-”

“No,” he interrupted once more, the line between his brows emerging once again as he tried to stress his point, “You call me Harrington all the time. Normally with a glare, but still…”

You remained silent for a moment, wondering if you did, indeed, do that, “Does it matter?”

“I mean, it makes you sound like you’re always mad at me-”

“I am normally mad at you,” you joked, but your smile slipped from your face just as quickly as it had appeared when his expression didn’t change, “I don’t know why I do it, alright? I do it to everyone, I guess…”

“I just…” Steve sighed, the hand that was holding the cloth to your ankle moved to push his hair back from his forehead before quickly reattaching itself to you, as if he needed to anchor himself to something to get his thoughts out, “I like it when you call me Steve. Makes me feel like we’re, you know… Friends.”

You watched as he shrugged, his throat bobbing as he tore his eyes away from you in what you could only assume was embarrassment.

Because even after everything you went through together almost a year ago, even after he saved your life… you weren’t friends. But now?

“Seems like the universe is trying to tell us something.”

Steve’s eyes returned to yours, confusion etched on his face as you sighed and sat up straighter, your body a little closer to him, “We are friends. I mean, you saved my life twice in one year. It would be kinda rude not to be, right?”

A small puff of air forced itself from his chest as he sent you a small smile, “Third time’s the charm,”

“Oh my god, why would you even say that?” You laughed back, mouth agape in faux offense, “But, I suppose I could… try and reserve last names for when I’m actually mad-”

“It would save me a lot of confusion.”

You shared a small, almost silent laugh, his eyes boring into you, seeming much darker in Hopper's dodgy bathroom lightening, Steve’s thumb still subconsciously skimming over your ankle as you both reveled in the quiet, the voices in the lounge were low and muffled slightly, so when the folding door was swiftly yanked open, nearly sending the boy into your lap, you both jumped out of your skin, your wide eyes narrowing into a glower as you stared down the man on the other side of the door,

“You kids need some help in here? Been long enough I thought you’d got lost.”

Rolling your eyes, you settled back against the tank of the toilet with a sigh, “Waiting times in the ER are outrageous. I’ll tell my doctor to hurry it up.”

Steve cleared his throat, discomfort written on his face as he sent Hopper an almost pained smile, unable to keep eye contact for more than a few seconds, “Almost done. Promise.”

You watched Hopper as he watched Steve — the boy suddenly finding the bare wooden floorboards beneath him a little too fascinating — his eyes flitting to you for just a moment before settling back on the boy, “Yeah, well, speed it up, alright? I need to take a leak.”

“Hop,” you heard Joyce warn, pulling the man’s attention for just a moment. His tongue ran across his bottom lip as if he were deep in thought, before he finally conceded, pulling the door across once more, but not shutting it fully.

Steve quickly poured the Arnica ointment onto some toilet paper before gently dabbing it onto your ankle, brows furrowed in concentration “We really should speed things up.”

“Ignore him. He’s just… weird.”

Steve sent you a quirked brow, all too aware that you didn’t bother to lower your voice and that the possibility of Hopper hearing you was high.

“You’re pretty close, huh?”

“He, uh… He dated my Mom. Hung around for a while and never really left, even when they broke up.”

“That’s nice.”

Shrugging, you peered through the gap in the door, eyes finding the man across the room talking quietly with Joyce for a moment before disappearing from your obstructed view, “I guess so. I don’t really see eye to eye with my Mom. I mean, I know what people say about her, about my family, but Hopper, he just… He never cared about all that stuff. I, uh… I cried myself to sleep the night they broke up. I mean, I’d seen guys come and go for years, I was used to it, and I just kind of thought he’d disappear like everyone else. Cross the street when he saw me, duck his head when he saw me in the same aisle at Big Buy… But he just… didn’t, you know? It wouldn’t have ever lasted with my Mom, but he’s been there for me more than anyone. Especially my own dad. I owe him a lot.”

“I don’t think he sees it that way.”

Steve’s comment caught you off-guard slightly. You’d heard all the gross accusations that high schoolers had thrown your way. That Hopper had left your mother for you, that he was your real dad and everything in between. You had thought for so long that he had simply hung around because he felt guilty. Then, you’d heard that he had a daughter, Sara, who had passed away in New York, and you thought that maybe his protectiveness over you was down to grief. That he was trying to make you fit into a Sara-shaped hole.

But Hopper, despite all of his flaws — and he had plenty — was simply a good man.

Sending your sudden tension, Steve scrambled to continue, “I mean, I don’t think he thinks you owe him anything. He seems like a decent guy-”

“He is,” you cut Steve off. Your chest felt heavy and tight as if your body was desperate for the conversation to finish before you burst into tears and embarrassed the both of you.

“All done,” Steve smiled, placing the toilet paper into the sink to be flushed later. He placed your ankle gently on the floor after rolling back down your pant leg and pulling on your sock, “I wouldn’t even try the sneakers, but you do need to ice it.”

Holding out a hand, Steve pulled you up, your bodies a little too close in the cramped bathroom, “We should-”

“Sit your ass down, Steve,” you wanted to pat yourself on the back for remembering, “It’s your turn.”

Eventually, you and Steve emerged from the bathroom, one arm slung over his shoulder as he guided you back into the lounge, Hopper quickly moved from where he was leaning against the wall next to the bathroom and took over, walking you back to his armchair whilst Steve quietly argued — and lost — with Joyce as she tried to give up her own chair, eventually reassuring him that she was going to check on Will, who was resting on Hopper’s fold up bed across the room.

When the once cold can of beer pressed against your ankle had warmed to room temperature, and the box of ‘Eggo’s’ Steve had held against his bruised face had turned soggy, the boy finally pushed himself up, clearing his throat, “I, uh… I should get going.”

You’d explained most of your evening to the group, leaving out that Hargrove had been the cause of your own injuries, and Hopper had told Steve that Billy would find himself on the receiving end of a few extra speeding tickets since the former didn’t want to press charges, and by now, everyone was visibly exhausted. It had been a very long weekend.

“Can I catch a ride?” You asked, already pushing yourself up off the armchair to follow.

Steve nodded and extended the offer, eventually driving you, Max, Lucas, and Dustin out of there. He’d have to drop Billy’s car back before anyone became suspicious, but he’d just waved a hand at you when you’d offered to drive the Camero back after picking up his own car, telling you he would simply walk home and collect it from the woods where he’d left it with yourself and Dustin at the beginning of your hunt for Dart.

Despite Hopper offering to stay at his for the night, you declined. You just wanted to crawl into your own bed and not emerge for a couple of days, despite knowing it was the beginning of another school week. So, after Jim had made you promise to radio him if there was any issue, he begrudgingly sent you off into the night with Steve.

The excitement seemed all too much for the kids, each one falling asleep before Steve had even passed back by Merrill’s farm. His voice was gentle as he woke them up, bar when he gave Dustin a shove, the boy snoring obnoxiously loud as he spread out across the backseat, the last to be dropped home.

Once the boy was safely inside his house, Steve sighed and pulled away, ready to make his way to your house. He could've easily dropped you home first and left Max to last, but the both of you remained quiet as he drove past the long, winding road that would've led to your street. His eyes were red-rimmed and heavy, and he cursed each time his hand subconsciously rubbed at them after he'd pulled over outside of your home.

You hesitated for a moment — your hand ready to open the door — unsure of what to say. So instead, you let out a long sigh and turned in the boy’s direction, “Get home safe, okay?”

Steve nodded, “Want me to walk you to the door? You really shouldn’t be putting weight on that-”

“-After everything that’s happened tonight, if I get murdered between this car, and my front door, then so be it,” you joked, a small smile on your face as Steve tiredly returned it.

Steve’s mouth opened, ready to retort, but instead remained hanging wide as you shuffled across the seat, pulling him into an awkward but quick one-armed hug, “Thanks again, Steve. And I’m sorry for, you know… dragging you along to the tunnels.”

Clearing his throat, Steve sent you a firm nod, “No, it’s… I get it, you know? I mean, either way, we kept the kids safe, right?”

“Right…”

“We make a pretty good team,” a puff of laughter fell from Steve’s lips. The irony wasn’t lost on the boy. 12 months ago, Steve wouldn’t have given you the time of day. You both knew that. Hell, you were certain he wouldn’t be able to pick you out from a lineup full of new students that he’d never met, despite the fact Hawkins only had one high school.

“Yeah, I guess we do. Goodnight, Steve.”

You shuffled out of the car ungracefully, and Steve watched with a wince, forcing himself to remain seated as you hobbled your way up the creaky, decayed porch steps and eventually into your home.

Only once you were tucked away safely in your house, bedroom light flicking on a moment later, did Steve finally drive away.

#steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x reader #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington x you #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington smut

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billythenightguard · 6 months

Text

Run Away: Detention (2011) & FNAF Movie Crossover - Chapter Five

Masterlist

Mentions: childhood loves

Word Count: 1140

Warnings: None

Older!Clapton/Mike x GN!Reader

Mike was determined to start dropping hints to you, he had no idea if you had begun to question who he was or if you were truly still in the dark. He dug out his old stereo cassette deck, stuffing it into the trunk. He had decorated it back in his time at Grizzly Lake, so he’d have to wait until you left Freddy’s to retape the mixtape. He also grabbed his six year old laptop, knowing he could hook it up to the deck and use YouTube to find the songs he wanted, especially the older ones that had just come out in 2011.

Mike wanted to treat you to something for once, you always bought him and Abby breakfast, always brought him lunch and dinner and made sure he didn’t have to do grocery shopping in the two months he’s reconnected with you. Since he’s been able to save some money due to your kindness, he knew he wanted to spend it on you. What better way than to not only bring in another hint, but to also spoil you how he once did.

He couldn’t contain his grin as he drove up to the 7-11, getting out almost too quickly to properly shut his car off. Immediately going to grab all of your old favorite snacks, putting them into a nice basket he found in his attic, and finally, the only reason you two would ever take his dad’s old, rusted Beamer. The slurpees. He almost felt 19 again, quietly arguing with you about making sure you waited until sixteen for some weed, insisting that cherry was the best flavor of slurpee ever, the way you’d easily stand on your tiptoes to match his 5’5, although now it seemed you didn’t have to do that anymore, you were definitely taller than you were at 14, maybe it was a growth spurt, maybe it was the shoes you wore. It didn’t matter though, Mike loved every part of you. He missed the best friend he had for 14 years, remembering the day your parents brought you home.

“Mom, dad!” Five year old Clapton exclaimed from the front yard, his parents sitting on the porch to watch him. “They brought home a baby!” And before they could even stop him, Clapton was running over to the house next door, politely asking if he could see the baby. But he was told not yet, and he slumped down and walked back to his house. Everyday for three weeks, Clapton would run over and ask to see the new baby. Your mom giggled and gushed over his relentlessness, and finally allowed him to come in.

Clapton was quiet and careful in his steps, unlike a typical five year old would be, he carefully climbed up the chair sitting by the bassinet and peered in, gasping to himself.

“They’re so cute!” He whispered out, his eyes widening when he realized he was a bit louder than he meant to be, and that stirred you awake, he braced for you to begin crying and for him to get scolded. But you just looked up at him, and he smiled and waved to you, talking to you like you’d understand him. “Hi, my name is Clapton Davis, I’m five years old, and I live in the yellow house next to you. We’re gonna be best friends.” He laughed, and he kept that promise, every day he’d come over after school to visit you, his newest neighbor. He was there for every milestone a baby could meet, and he was damn proud of himself too. As you would grow older, probably when you were five and Clapton was nine, almost ten, you had declared something that Clapton kept a secret for years within himself.

“Clapton! I'm gonna marry you one day!” You said, holding his hand as he was walking you to the bus stop. He laughed and blushed, but quickly agreed.

“Okay! We’re gonna get old like moms and dads, and we’re gonna kiss all the time!” He grinned a Cheshire grin, and laughed when you squealed and spun around, still holding his hand. He had always felt some sort of way towards you, some calling, something more than just best friends for life, and here you were, blatantly admitting both of your feelings to the world. Both of your parents found it to be adorable.

“$14.67 sir.” The cashier said, snapping Mike out of his mind as he smiled a half grin, swiping his card to pay before heading out to the pizzeria.

“Mike!” You called out giddily when you heard him enter the security room, his heart swelling to know you got excited to see him. “It’s been so boring… I’m tempted to give you my old iPod so we can play iMessage games.” You laughed, Mike shook his head at that.

“I’m old, I don’t know what any of that means.” He teased, blushing a little as he handed you the basket and slurpee.

“You’re the same age as my best friend- oh my god you didn’t-” you looked at the basket and slurpee, a wide smile taking over and tears of happiness and remembrance welling up. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!!” You squealed, setting your snacks and drinks down carefully before leaping up and hugging him, and now it was Mike’s turn to tear up, he hugged you back tightly, relishing in the moment of your touch. He missed you more than he thought he supposed.

“You are possibly the sweetest man out there, Michael Schmidt.” You laughed, pulling back to look at him.

“Oh, I don’t know, sounds like your childhood friend might be more than me.” He shrugged, wiping away a stray tear that had fallen from your eye.

“Both of you are, I didn’t think it was possible for there to be two men like you, but there is.” You whispered, leaning into his touch slightly, your heart rate picking up, was this betraying Clapton?

Mike had to usher you out when he noticed the time, he didn’t want Abby to become petty with you like she did to him when he was late for pickup. Once he was sure you wouldn’t turn around, he ran out to his car and grabbed his cassette deck and his laptop, making a set up on the desk and taking out the old mixtape, writing down the songs he would keep.

He decided he would add three new songs, It’s Not Over - Daughtry, Glad You Came - The Wanted, and finally Cigarette Daydreams - Cage the Elephants. He smiled happily, having recreated the mixtape on YouTube, letting the deck tape over the old mixtape, throwing the new songs into a random order, he wondered just what you’d think. He just hoped he wouldn’t make you mad.

|| So sorry for the delayed post today, I am exhausted with only 3 hours of sleep and not my usual 4.5 hours. ||

Tag List: @na-is-salty @cancelledkaley @mad-die45 @mschmidt @dessxoxsworld @thegirlwholoveslivesfanfiction

#fnaf au #detention 2011 #mike schmidt #billyjustexists #fnaf #run away #billyistired #clapton davis #mike schimdt x reader #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt angst #fnaf mike #clapton davis angst #clapton davis fluff #clapton davis x you #clapton davis x reader #clapton

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messrsbyler · 1 year

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imagine in s5 after mike and nancy have had their confrontation and big fight, things have been said, hugs have been hugged, they have opened the door for a new path to share between them, a way to walk together and see where it leads them.

and then, one night, both siblings are on patrol duty while the rest is asleep as they are camping in the woods or the upside down or whatever. and they have a wholesome moment.

the end of the world is a lot, but someone mike has still managed to have most of his thoughts occupied on something else. on someone, more like. and now that the world has been cracked open and the air is filled with ashes and spores, now that the world has taken a 180 degree spin and thrown them all off their feet, maybe it’s only fitting for mike to start questioning things he never before dared to question before.

and it’s only the two of them there, and for once mike isn’t sure he can be the leader and figure this one on his own. so, before he looses his courage, mike straightens his back, sucks in a breath that leaves a copper taste in his moth, and asks: “nance?”

her sister turns to look at him with a frantic stare in her eyes. mike doesn’t miss the way her hands grip the gun sitting on her lap a bit tighter and how her shoulders clamp a little. “what is it? did you hear something?”

mike is quick to shake his head. “no! no, it’s not that.”

“gosh, mike. you scared the shit out of me.”

“i just…” suddenly he’s not sure what to do with his hands. he tries clasping them on his lap but they feel silly there, a brush away from his own cold and heavy gun. mike already feels petrified trying to get the words out and having that weapon near him isn’t helping his case. he fits his hand under his legs in the end, but there’s no helping the bouncing of his leg. “i wanted to ask you… something.”

nancy looks at him, eyes clocking his leg and then climbing up to his face. something in his sister’s expression shifts. the lines are still hard around her eyes and mouth, edged with her sense of alert. but there’s also a softness in her eyes as she stares at mike, something he’s not used to find in nancy but that now is undoubtedly directed at him and only him.

“sure. what is it?”

this is the moment. no room for hesitation now. mike tells himself he can dance around the words, can control how much he lets nancy see. he can stay in the surface of the deep pit that’s consuming his every thought and sanity. if anything, at least nancy will think mike is talking about el. nancy will think he’s still mopping over their break up. he won’t see right through mike’s schemes.

“you… you are with jonathan, right?”

nancy’s lips pull into a tight line, and mike knows he’s said the wrong thing. he braces himself for the scowl nancy usually throws at him and for the words ‘that’s none of your business, mike!’, but they never come. instead, silence settles between them as nancy ponders on the question.

“i guess i am,” she says in the end, her voice distant. and mike knows his sister is dealing with her own pit and questions. “it’s a bit more complicated than that, but… yeah, i’m with him.”

mike nods, knowing not to push for more than what nancy is offering him. “right. because… because you love him, right?”

the rather bittersweet expression is replaced by a soft smile. “well, that’s not complicated at all. yes, i love him.”

mike fills his lungs again. his insides swell with butterflies and nerves and a buzzing starts right underneath his skin as a pair of hazel eyes flash in the back of his mind.

“how… uhm, how did you know? that you loved jonathan, i mean.”

“know?”

“yes. how were you sure? how did you know it was that type of love?”

nancy scans him for a second, and mike keeps himself from gulping all the spit pooling in his mouth. something like that would surely throw him under the bus in front of nancy who is so good at keeping people’s expressions in check just to extract whatever information can be gathered from them.

“well,” nancy starts, “it’s… okay, this is going to sound so cliché but… you just know.” mike purses his lips and that must send nancy the message that he’s not understanding what she means. “it’s like… like one day you wake up and realise that you love someone, because the feelings are there. but if you try to think back to pin down the moment you started feeling like that, you realise there is not one moment. it’s more that those feelings have been growing inside of you, slowly, until you lose sight of when you first felt them. they just… become a part of you until you can’t remember a time you didn’t feel that way, even if just a little.”

mike doesn’t say anything. he just looks at nancy, barely blinking. his eyes feel hot and his throat is tied in a knot. and his heart, his heart is beating inside his chest, loud and full and so hard it’s almost like it wants to jump out of mike’s mouth just to say ‘yes! that! that’s how we feel!’

the silence stretches between them, but not in a defeating type of way. it’s not comfortable, because mike is losing his breath with every second that passes by, but it’s still… safe, the way nancy is giving him room to process her words, and how she is looking at him, as if she knew how mike was at the brink of a big moment.

“nance?” mike finally says. his voice a little wavy and a little breathless. there’s a coldness that stirs in his stomach, a pinch of fear that makes him push his nails in the underside of his thighs.

“yes, mike?”

mike bits his bottom lip and looks up at his sister. he breathes in one more time and makes the air in his lungs extinguish loose grip fear has on him.

“i think… i think i love will,” mike says.

the words come out and the world pours down mike’s back like cold water. if he was restless before, mike is on the edge of his seat now. his leg bounces faster and his teeth dig into his lip until pain grounds him to this moment and to the words he just allowed out of his mouth.

and nancy… nancy just smiles at him in a way she hasn’t in many years. she smiles at him like when mike was little and would sneak inside her room in the middle of the night because he just had a nightmare, or like when the both of them would hide in the basement while their parents had a fight, or when they would meet after school for mike first year and walk back home together. nancy smiles at mike as if saying ‘you are my little brother. mine. and i love you.’

and the wheelers, they are not good with words, so when mike starts sobbing nancy doesn’t say anything. she just swings her gun on its lace to her back and shelters mike in a hug. and mike… he melts into it, knowing that his big sister is finally there for him.

#it’s 3 am i should be asleep #i need mike and nancy to fight but also to have a bonding moment #i just need it okay?#byler #byler tumblr #mike wheeler #stranger things #will byers #byler endgame #nancy wheeler

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1lostsoul0fishbowl · 4 months

Text

stepping stones: a deleted scene from next time i fall (895 wc)

for @strngerpairs valentines event: greatmage (gareth x eleven)

“Look, Bear.” El handed Gareth a smooth stone she’d just picked up by the edge of the lake. “This one is so pretty.”

“Yeah, it is.” He traced one finger along the small vein of purple threaded through the gray rock, then hefted it experimentally to feel its weight. “Would make a perfect skipping stone.”

She immediately caught his hand in hers. “No, please do not throw it! I want to keep it for my collection.” The moment the words were out, though, she regretted them. Was it weird to collect pretty rocks? Would he laugh? Their relationship was still fairly new, and Gareth seemed to adore every new facet of her personality he discovered, but that couldn’t possibly last, could it?

El was still trying to determine where his line was. The irrevocable line everyone drew between cute and weirdo. The line she was bound to stumble over one day soon, completely by accident; never sure just what it was she’d said or done to cross it, only knowing with a terrible certainty, as others’ smiles went from friendly to pitying or patronizing, that she had.

But Gareth didn’t laugh. “You have a rock collection?” he asked, handing back the stone. “That’s so cool. What are your favorite types?”

She shrugged, not meeting his eyes. “I do not know what they are. I just keep the ones I think are pretty.” Stuffing the stone into her pocket, she braced herself for whatever comments might be coming her way.

When he didn’t say anything, though, she finally dared to glance up. He wasn’t giving her the look she’d been dreading— wasn’t even looking at her at all. He’d crouched down at the water’s edge and was closely examining the rocks there. Plucking one from the water, he rubbed it dry on his jeans and held it out to her with a grin.

“Look at that one. It’s kinda sparkly.” His eyes were sparkly, too, shining up at her, and El’s heart did a funny little flip in her chest. “You want it?”

“Yes, please.” She returned his grin with a beaming smile of her own. “It is very pretty. You do not think it is weird, to keep pretty rocks?”

He shrugged. “Nope. Lots of people collect stuff they think is cool.” He picked up another rock, inspected it, then made a face and dropped it back where it had been. “I love that little things like pretty rocks make you happy.”

“You— you do?” El felt her eyes filling with tears. He did that all the time now, just casually mentioned something he loved about her, and it thrilled her every time. He was so generous, so free with his affection; not at all like Mike, who could barely bring himself to utter the word ‘love’ to her. Gareth not only said I love you easily, but he could make her feel it too, with nothing more than a smile or a touch of his hand. She doubted herself often, but he left no room for second-guessing the way he felt about her.

His cheeks flushed pink. “I thought it was obvious that I love pretty much everything about you. Even the stuff you think is weird.” He got to his feet and took both her hands in his, sparkly rock and all. “If you’re waiting for me to change my mind about you,” he added softly, “it’s not gonna happen, Janie.”

She gave him what, to herself, she called an Eddie-look; head tilted down, eyebrows raised in disbelief. “‘Pretty much’ everything?” she echoed, and he burst out in a loud delightful laugh, just exactly as she’d hoped he would. She loved to make him laugh, loved knowing he wanted to laugh with her and not at her. “What do you not love?”

He grinned mischievously. “I don’t love how you always steal all the purple Skittles.”

Now it was her turn to crack up laughing. “But they are the best ones!”

“I know! And you never leave me any!” He swept her up in his arms, lifting her feet completely off the ground as he spun her in circles, both of them giggling like crazy. “Just once, you could eat all the green ones—”

“I do not like the green ones.”

“What about orange, then? Hmm? Nooo, you’re single-minded in your grape thievery.” It was such a silly conversation— Max would’ve called them ‘dorks’ for sure if she’d heard it— but they were laughing so hard they could barely breathe, and El could literally feel his happiness, bright and unequivocal. Just like her own. She let her forehead drop to his shoulder as she came down, breathing him in, vital as the sunshine.

He touched her chin, gently lifting her face to his. “But, other than your complete disregard for candy sharing etiquette”— she couldn’t help it, another little giggle escaped her— “other than that, baby, I really do love everything about you.” His knuckles softly brushed her cheek. “You know that, don’t you?”

“Even the weird stuff?” She leaned into his hand, savored the comforting touch. “I know I am a weirdo.”

“You’re my weirdo. Yes, even the weird stuff. Everything, Janie.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

A promise like that ought to be sealed with a kiss, she thought, tilting her face up to his; he was only too happy to oblige.

#strangerpairs #stpairsvalentines #el hopper #gareth emerson #greatmage #eleven x gareth #weirdos in love

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delta-piscium · 1 year

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part 2 | this is part two to this from Steve's perspective leading up to and including part one | cw unresolved angst [unfinished/for now not being worked on]

31 days until moving day.

Steve burst through the door to Family Video, swinging it open with way too much force.

Robin jumps and opens her mouth, probably to tell him off for scaring her but he speaks before she gets the chance.

“Eddie asked me to move to Chicago with him,” he blurts out, “Robin, he asked me to go with him.”

Her eyes widen, “what did you say?”

“That I’d go, of course,” he huffs. Like it’s even a question? like not going was ever an option?

Robin jumps over the counter squealing and hugs him so tight breathing becomes a little bit hard.

“I’m moving away with Eddie,” he whispers into her hair, awed as he hugs her back. She somehow squeezes him even tighter and they stay like that for a minute until they have to actually do their jobs.

An hour passes and Robin keeps shooting him contemplative looks.

“What?” He finally snaps after getting tired of waiting for her to say what she wants to say herself.

She jumps again like she didn’t realize how obvious she was being, which honestly, she probably didn’t.

“Nothing, nothing.”

“Robin,” he whines.

“Okay, just,” she scrunches her face up a bit and Steve knows that face, she’s trying to figure out how to say something to him she thinks he’ll react badly to.

He narrows his eyes at her, bracing himself, “yes?”

“I think you and Eddie are great together, and like I love you both and I am excited for you guys. You know that right?”

Steve nods, doesn’t say anything though, wants her to get to the point.

“I’m just also, maybe, a little bit worried.”

Steve’s eyebrows draw together, “what do you mean?”

Robin is looking around nervously. Something heavy starts to form in Steve’s stomach.

“You haven’t been together for very long and this is a big step. I just don’t wanna see either of you get hurt you know? I guess I’m just wondering if you’ve talked it all through? Because both of you have a tendency to jump into things without thought.”

They haven’t talked it through, not really. Eddie asked Steve to move, he said yes and that was pretty much it. It didn’t feel like they needed to talk it through though? Did they? Usually, they just dealt with things as they became relevant, that had worked for them so far.

Robin must see something on his face because she quickly talks again, backtracking and interrupting his thoughts.

“Not that I don’t think it will be great, you know I just worry about things a lot. This is my anxiety talking. You know what, ignore everything I just said. You two know what you’re doing.”

He doesn’t want her to know she’s already put doubts in his head so even though he’s starting to freak out a little he smiles and shakes his head.

“It’s fine Rob, I’m sure we will talk more with time.”

22 days until moving day.

Steve meant it when he said he and Eddie would talk. Meant to ask about the logistics, meant to make sure they were on the same page, he really did. But every time the move comes up Eddie just seems so sure about it already. Steve doesn’t want to make him think he’s having second thoughts. Thinks maybe it’s better to not say anything, to wait and let it come up naturally.

He thinks maybe they’ll talk about it tonight. The kids had joked about them all evening, about how fast they were moving.

Mike had made some snarky comment about them moving to a city where they knew no one and how awkward it would be if they crashed and burned and they’d have to share a bedroom.

Eddie had laughed, said it was good they weren’t gonna crash and burn then. But, he’d also added that his band was also going so actually he would know people.

It was just jokes, Steve knew that. That didn’t make it any less true though. Steve wouldn’t have anyone except Eddie, sure he liked the guys in his band but they weren’t his friends. Steve would have Eddie and Eddie would have his band. It suddenly seemed like a big deal.

He expects Eddie to also feel it, to get worried and bring it up but he doesn’t. If he is worried he isn’t saying anything, just like Steve isn’t.

8 days until moving day.

There’s a knock on Steve's door and when he opens Gareth is standing there. Steve is a lot confused about it but lets him in.

“Uh,” he starts a little unsure, “do you want anything to drink or?” He offers, mostly because he doesn’t know what else to say or do.

Gareth shakes his head, looking about as uncomfortable as Steve feels. Shuffling around where he’s standing and fiddling with the sleeve of his shirt. “No, I’m gonna leave again soon. I just came here to say something.”

Steve gestures for him to speak, “I’m listening.”

Gareth doesn’t immediately say anything, he shuffles some more and looks around the room before his eyes land on Steve again, a determined look in them.

“Look, I like you. I know Eddie loves you.”

Steve can’t help but smile a little at that, even though he’s starting to suspect he’s in for a shovel talk.

“And like, I probably wouldn’t do this if it weren’t for the fact that you haven’t dated for very long at all and are about to move in together in a city four hours away.”Gareth pauses and waits to speak again until Steve nods, showing he’s listening.

“Eddie does things without thinking. He doesn’t think about the consequences, not anything, just does. I love that about him, it’s the reason our band has gotten anywhere at all, but it also means that he gets hurt a lot, disappointed a lot. He can handle it with most things, he won’t be able to handle it with you.”

“What are you saying?” Steve asks even though he’s pretty sure he already knows.

Gareth looks pained but continues, “I’m saying that if you aren’t one hundred percent sure about moving with him, if you have any doubts at all, you can’t go.”

Steve can’t suppress his flinch. He expected Gareth to say he needed to be sure, that if he wasn’t he needed to tell Eddie. He wasn’t expecting him to say he shouldn’t, no, couldn’t go.

Gareth catches it and narrows his eyes, “I mean it Steve, it will break him more if you go, let him think it’s gonna work and then leave, then if you don’t go at all.” He steps closer to Steve, getting into his space. “So, if you’re not absolutely sure,” he pauses, steps even closer, “Do. Not. Go.” He punctuates every word and then he turns on his heel and leaves.

6 days until moving day.

Steve needs to talk with Eddie about it now, can’t ignore it anymore. He isn’t gonna just not go like Gareth told him to do. No, he’ll talk to Eddie and it will be fine.

They’re in his bed together, laying next to each other. Skin touching skin and a comfortable silence between them. Now is as good a time as any.

“Hey, Eddie?”

“Mhh?” He hums, shifting slightly next to him.

“What happens if something goes wrong when we move?”

Eddie snorts, “what? Like if we get a flat wheel? I know how to change a wheel, sweetheart.”

Steve smiles despite his nerves, tries to not imagine what Eddie would look like changing a wheel.

“Good to know, but no, not quite what I meant.”

Next to him, Eddie props himself up on his elbow so he can properly look at Steve.

“What did you mean?” He reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind Steve’s ear as he speaks. Steve has to focus harder than he’d like to admit to not get lost in it. Even the smallest touches have an effect on him when it’s Eddie.

“What if something happens with us?” His voice is small and he can’t look at Eddie, afraid of what his reaction might be. “Remember that thing Mike said about us not really knowing anyone there? Just, what would happen?”

“Baby,” Eddie gently grabs Steve’s chin with his thumb and forefinger, tilting his face towards him. Steve easily follows but closes his eyes.

“Baby, please look at me,” Eddie’s voice is even softer than before, and Steve has always been weak when it comes to Eddie asking him to do things so he slowly blinks his eyes open.

“There you are,” he smiles, face open and tendrils of hair falling around it. He looks angelic and Steve almost forgets what they are talking about, too overwhelmed by the man next to him.

Eddie keeps them on track though.

“Like I told Mike, nothing will happen. We will be fine. But,” he continued before Steve can protest, “if something does, we both have jobs already, we’ve done this right. We will be able to save eventually. Quicker because we’re two people, paying rent and all that stuff on two salaries. If something happens we will have that security.”

Steve relaxes then and Eddie must see it because he grins and continues, “now if you didn’t have a job then I’d be worried. I’m not cut out for all the responsibility of being the breadwinner, princess.”

Steve groans and shoves Eddie away. Mostly to hide the blush he can feel creeping up his face just from Eddie calling him princess. Judging by the way Eddie cackles he doesn’t have to see Steve blush to know the effect it has on him.

He reaches out and pulls Steve in against his chest. “Worst case scenario we have to move back. Wayne will probably pretend to be unhappy about it but he’ll let me take over his trailer again. And, I know you have complicated feelings about this house, that your parents are the worst, but you’ll be able to come back if you need to.”

“Okay,” Steve says, his worries mostly calmed.

1 day until moving day.

Steve and Eddie are spending the night apart. Eddie wanting to spend his last night with Wayne and both of them needing to do some last minute packing.

Just as he finishes closing one of the last boxes the phone rings, he’s a bit confused about who would call him right now. His friends all having seen him earlier in the day to say goodbye. Maybe Eddie needs to double-check what time they decided to leave.

He picks up but it’s not Eddie, or even one of the kids, who speaks.

“Steven,” his mother's shrill voice crackles on the other end of the line.

“Hi mom,” he tries to hide his sigh as he speaks, doesn’t have the energy to get into anything with her right now, doesn’t want her to ruin his excitement.

“I thought you were moving to Chicago alone?”

His freezes, when he told his parents he was gonna move he didn’t say he was going alone but he also didn’t mention Eddie. He knew they wouldn’t like it, knew it would be easier to let them assume he was going by himself.

“But I just got off a call with Mrs. Hagan and she told me that Tommy had said you were moving there with- with that cult boy? The one who’s wanted for murder?”

Steve closes his eyes and this time he doesn’t bother hiding his sigh. Fucking Tommy, he’s always had a big mouth but Steve suspects that this hadn’t been him blabbering without thinking. No, Steve thinks Tommy knew exactly what he was doing telling his mom this piece of information.

“His name is Eddie, and he was cleared of all charges. The ‘cult’ was literally just a school club.”

“So it’s true? You’re moving with him?” Her voice is sharp and even just hearing it over the phone makes him flinch.

“Yeah, we’re friends and it’s cheaper that way. We got a better apartment because we’re two people with a job each.” It’s such a simplification of the truth it’s almost a lie but Steve doesn’t think this is the time to come out to her. He hopes the ‘better apartment’ comment will calm her, it’s the sort of thing she cares about after all. Not for his safety and comfort though but for how it will reflect on her.

He’s not sure she actually hears him though because she hisses a vicious, “If you move with him you will not be welcome back Steven, this will be the last time we speak.” Before she hangs up on him.

Steve carefully places the phone back in its cradle, then he’s left standing alone in the living room, both too shocked to move and not really shocked at all.

He’s not close to his parents. Has slowly been understanding just how much they’ve neglected him. He’s been relieved about moving away, about being in another city where he won’t have to see them when they waltz back into town. But to never speak to them again? That’s a whole different thing. He still hoped that they’d be able to fix their relationship. That him not being dependent on them anymore would allow him to stand up for himself. That everything would get better. Now instead, the thing he thought would allow their relationship to get better is gonna destroy it forever.

He debates calling Eddie, wants to tell him what his mom just said, wants to hear his voice, wants to let him make it better. He decides against it, he doesn’t wanna ruin Eddie’s last night with Wayne and he’ll see him tomorrow anyway. He can tell him in the car.

He doesn’t call Robin either, she’ll insist on coming over and he knows she’s on a date with Nancy right now. He doesn’t wanna ruin that either, even though both of them will tell him he’s not, he knows he will be. He goes to bed instead, sleep seems like the best option right now, at least he won’t have to think if he’s asleep.

Moving day.

He ended up not really sleeping at all. Tossing and turning for hours and after finally falling asleep sometime in the early morning he wakes up just hours later from a nightmare. He doesn’t remember what it was about but can feel the lingering panic. He gives up on getting any more sleep, doesn’t wanna risk more nightmares when he’s alone.

He picks at his breakfast, still thrown off from the conversation with his mom the night before and not feeling like eating, so he gives up on that too. He spends the rest of the morning wandering around, touching the walls and the furniture in the house he grew up in. The house he’s been left alone in since he was nine. The house he both hates and loves. The house he will never be allowed to return to after today.

Then the phone rings again, it’s probably his mom calling to ask if he’s decided to stay he thinks. It’s not, it turns out.

“Hi I’m Patricia, I’m looking for Steve Harrington?” A chipper voice says.

“This is him.”

“Okay well, good. I’m calling about a barista job you’re supposed to start with us next week.”

“Yeah?” Steve chews on his cheek.

“I’m so sorry but due to our rent being raised we’re having to do cutbacks. Since you haven’t signed your contract with us yet, it’s the first one to go.”

“You’re firing me?” Steve asks, it’s not entirely right since he hasn’t started yet but it’s all he can think to say.

“Essentially,” Patricia responds, “I’m sorry for the short notice.”

“Okay,” he says, his voice void of emotion, “thank you for calling.”

He hangs up without waiting for a response, he doesn’t have the energy to be polite.

He barely has time to let the information sink in before his doorbell rings. Eddie on the other side of the door with a wide grin on his face.

“Did you oversleep?” He jokes.

Steve’s confused for a second but then he realizes he’s still in his pajamas, that he’s spent the whole morning wandering around like a ghost in his house not getting any of the things he needed to do done.

He hasn’t packed the bag of all his essentials. He hasn’t gotten dressed. He hasn’t even brushed his teeth. What he has done is get fired from a job he never even started.

He sees Eddie’s teasing smile, the combination of it and his sudden joblessness tugs at something in his brain, brings back the conversation they had last week.

“Now, if you didn’t have a job then I’d be worried. I’m not cut out for all the responsibility of being the breadwinner princess.”

He doesn’t have a job. He’ll have to live off Eddie and what little savings he has left. Become a responsibility Eddie doesn’t want, a burden probably.

“Worst case scenario we move back”, “you’ll be able to come back if you need to.”

If he leaves now he won’t be able to come back.

Gareths words play back in his mind too.

“if you have any doubts at all, you can’t go.”, “it will break him more if you go, let him think it’s gonna work and then leave, then if you don’t go at all.”

“I’m not going,” Steve hears himself say as he steps back from the hand Eddie reaches out to him.

“You’re not-“ Eddie looks so confused. “Like today? Do you need extra time? We can postpone by a couple of days but-“

He’s not getting it. Steve interrupts him, needs to make him understand because he can’t listen to him try to come up with solutions.

“No, Eddie. I’m not going it all.”

The words feel wrong in his mouth but he forces them out anyways.

“What do you mean?” Eddie asks and it fucking ruins him. He feels his carefully blank expression break, despair showing through.

“I can’t leave Hawkins, the kids,” he has to look away from Eddie as he says this. Knows it’s the only thing Eddie won’t question, knows Eddie thinks he doesn’t mean as much to Steve as the kids do. “They need me.”

“When did you decide you weren’t going?” Eddie asks and Steve didn’t know it was possible but he breaks even more from that, from Eddie not fighting him.

I didn’t, he thinks, I don’t know why I’m saying this now. If you ask me to stop and just go with you I will.

“A couple of days ago,” he lies.

It’s silent then, just their breathing and the distant sound of cars down the street being heard. Eventually, Eddie breaks it.

“Steve?”

His voice cracks in the middle. Steve can hear the plea for him to take it all back and he nearly does, has to swallow the words creeping up his throat before they get out.

“I’m sorry,” he says instead. He turns around, closing the door behind him. Destroying their future and breaking the last bit of his heart in the process.

He doesn’t get more than two steps into the house before his legs give out beneath him. He stays there, sitting on the floor for what feels like forever.

After some time he hears a car drive away and he knows Eddie has left. He feels silent tears start streaming down his face that soon turns into sobs. Making him curl in on himself and gasp for air.

He doesn’t know how long he stays there, crying until he can’t anymore and then just sitting there. But after a while, he’s interrupted by a loud ringing. For the third time in less than twenty-four hours he picks up the god-forsaken phone.

“Hello?” He rasps, his voice dull and raw from crying.

“Steven. You made the right decision and stayed I take it?” His mother asks.

“Yes.” He says and hangs up on her.

#happy ending never got written but they end up happy and maybe on day i'll return to this and write it #once again i apologize for any typos mistakes in general etc I've read through it I swear #part one is like 800 words and this is over 3k idk what happened okay #actually i do i had to fit in more scenes #so uh yeah #there will still be a happy ending i promise but now you get where steve is coming from which is mainly a panic attack tbh #steve baby do not make big decisions while mid anxiety shut down #also talk to people <3 #eddie you know better than to reassure someone because you both have jobs? what are you doing???#it's 5am i swear if this does not show up in the tags ill cry #steddie #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #my writing #my post #steddie angst #dels steddie thoughts

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salamandergoo · 8 months

Text

STWG Prompt: A Different First Meeting

Mike scrambled up the ladder on the playground equipment with a bright smile and a giggle bubbling from his chest. He could hear Lucas somewhere behind him and hurried to get to the top first. A hand slapped down on the platform just before his and Lucas pulled himself up with a grin. “I win!”

“You cheated!”

“You started running first! Guess you’re just slow.” Lucas stuck his tongue out.

Even though his mom kept telling him he was too old to pout when he didn’t get his way, Mike jutted out his bottom lip. “I’m going to make you walk the plank.”

“No you’re not.” Lucas helped him get all the way up. From the top, they could see the entire playground, could almost see over the roof of the school. “Because I’m the captain. You can be my first mate, though!”

Mike sighed and crossed his arms as he swung his legs. The breeze was still a little too warm to really feel nice and his forehead was sweating. “No, it’s Will’s turn to be the first mate. It’s my turn tomorrow.”

Lucas nodded. “We need someone else to play pirates with us. Then we can have enemy ships! With cannon battles!”

Mike grinned, the enthusiasm infectious. “What are we gonna use as cannonballs?”

“Mud!”

“We can’t use mud at recess, remember when we got in trouble last year? We didn’t get to play at recess for a whole week.”

Lucas frowned, looking around the playground. “Maybe we can play in your yard instead, then?”

“Well what are we going to play during recess, then?” Mike perked up when he saw Will running across the playground. “Look! There’s Will!”

Lucas grinned, smiling hard enough that it scrunched up his eyes in the corners. “Will! Ahoy!”

Will looked up and waved. “Ahoy! Permission to come aboard?”

“Aye!”

Will began to climb the ladder, but… another boy was climbing up after him, hat obscuring Mike’s view of his face. “Wait, no-“

“It’s okay.” Will, for what he lacked in size, the smallest of the three of them, made up for it in speed, scaling the ladder easily. “This is Dustin! He’s new.”

Dustin looked up at them from about halfway up the ladder and waved. “Hi!”

Lucas waved back, but Mike wasn’t budged so easily. “But it’s always been just three of us.”

Lucas peered down at the new boy and seemed to consider him. “He can fit up here too. You just said it would be fun to pretend to have two ships.”

“But we were… um…” Mike stared at Dustin. “This is wrong,” he said slowly, his frustration fading. His head ached as he squinted. “It didn’t happen like this.”

“Mike?” Will’s voice was wrong. He’d always been quieter when they were this age, when they-

“We didn’t meet Dustin when we were playing pirates. He brought us a frog and Lucas screamed.” Mike got to his feet as his voice did something weird.

Then the play structure was crumbling under him, the smell of rot flooding his senses as the wood decayed under his feet. He braced himself for impact, but it never came. He was falling endlessly and his limbs wouldn’t coordinate. He looked down (or maybe it was up) and the darkness seemed infinite. “Help!” he cried, reaching out to try and grasp at something, anything to slow his fall.

When he finally crashed to the ground, the wind knocked from his lungs, he was standing in an unfamiliar house. The smell of rot was overwhelming now and he struggled to get to his feet. He wasn’t a fourth grader anymore, he was 14 now, again, like he was supposed to be.

“Mike? Mike!”

“Will,” Mike breathed. The voice echoed off every surface and he turned around, trying to figure out what direction it was coming from. “Will!” He yanked open the closest door, only to find it boarded up. When he peered between the planks, he saw a desolate landscape, familiar in a haunting kind of way. Red cracked along the sky and he had to turn away, feeling himself tremble with fear.

“Mike, help! Help me!”

“Will! I’m coming!” Mike began to run down the hall. “Where are you?”

He froze when he heard a shrill scream come from the opposite direction. That was Lucas, he only screamed like that when something was wrong. “Fuck!” Mike could hear struggling, Lucas’ voice sounded… off. Somehow.

He had to keep running. He ran until his legs ached and wanted to cover his ears like a child, block out the screams that echoed in the endless hallways of the unfamiliar and crumbling house.

He used his shoulder to push open a door at the end of the hall when he reached it. It felt like he’d been running forever and he couldn’t breathe. “Will!”

“Mike.” Will stared at him with an empty expression, standing in the middle of the decrepit room. “What did you do?”

“Wh- what?”

“What have you done?”

Mike looked down at his hands and felt his heart drop. Blood coated his skin, sticky and warm and dark red against his pale skin. “Where did this come from, whose blood is this?”

When he looked up at Will, he was struck by panic. Now Will was covered in blood. “Why did you hurt me, Mike?”

“I didn’t! I didn’t do this! What’s going on, where are we?” He tried to step forward, to approach Will, but no matter how many steps he took, he never got any closer. “Will, please, I didn’t mean to! I don’t know what’s going on!”

“Why did you hurt me, Mike? I thought we were friends.”

“You’re my best friend,” Mike sobbed. “Please, please, please, I didn’t mean to. I didn’t, I swear!” He looked down at his bloody hands again. “Something is wrong, I heard Lucas screaming and we- we were kids again, but it wasn’t right, everything was off!”

“Why did you hurt me, Mike?”

Will’s voice changed and Mike realized it wasn’t him talking anymore. “All you do is hurt the people around you, Michael Wheeler. You know it, you’ve always known. You push them away.”

“I don’t- I don’t!”

He could hear music in the distance, but refused to look up. “…never thought I’d meet a girl like you…”

“You take your friends for granted. You take your family for granted. You take Eleven for granted.”

“I-“ Mike couldn’t breathe as he watched Will morph into… “You’re… Vecna.” And Mike remembered where he’d been. He’d just left the hospital. He’d been going to the high school to help with the volunteer efforts. He’d been back in the fucking van with Will and Jonathan and Argyle. He didn’t fully understand what was happening in Hawkins, all of what they had missed, but he knew this was bad. “Oh fuck.”

“…with auburn hair and tawny eyes…”

“You are going to die, Mike Wheeler. Hawkins has fallen. You are next.”

“Mike! Mike, please!”

Mike turned around, and there, in the hall of the house that wasn’t real, was a gate. He could see… himself. Floating up in the air. Jonathan was fumbling with something in the van, but Will was reaching up for him and crying out his name. “Will,” he whispered.

Vecna was still talking, but Mike could hear the song louder, the gate grew bigger. A split second before the floor broke under his feet, he broke into a sprint. He could hear the ground breaking beneath him and didn’t look down. He could see Will clearly now, could hear him pleading. He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to fucking die, not like this.

Mike’s eyes snapped open and he felt himself falling. But this time, it wasn’t into the infinite. Will broke his fall more than anything else and Mike let out a surprised sound, something choked that turned into a sob. “What the fuck was that?” he gasped out, wrapping his arms tight around Will’s shoulders.

“Yeah, do we know what the fuck that was?” Argyle’s voice was tight and stressed, he kicked up dust as he paced back and forth anxiously.

“That was Vecna.” Will’s fingers tangled in Mike’s hair and it felt… nice. Mike pressed his face against Will’s shoulder.

“This is my favorite song,” he mumbled.

“Yeah. Yeah, we radioed Dustin, he said Max’s favorite song kept Vecna at bay. And… you know, this was on the mixtape that I… made for you.” Will’s voice got a little quieter.

“He was trying to use my memories against me, I think. I… we were in fourth grade, but it was wrong. You were introducing us to Dustin, but that’s not how it happened… that’s not how we met him.”

“Oh yeah. He found a frog.” Will giggled. “You got so excited about it.”

“It was cool,” Mike grumbled, clinging a little tighter. Maybe Will’s laugh could be his new favorite song. He’d much rather listen to that on loop.

#stwgdailyprompt #byler #Mike Wheeler #Will Byers #mike Wheeler whump #mike gets vecna'd #mikes Vecna song is I Ran (So Far Away) by Flock of Seagulls

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bylerbigbang · 7 months

Text

nosebleeds from epiphanies (i took full in the face)

Fic by @wheelersboy | Art by @boycattj and @starsarefire824

Teen | 15k words

“I think you’d make a good priest,” Mike says, after a moment. His face is serious, but there’s an almost joyful sincerity in his eyes.

“Yeah?” Will asks, flattered.

“Yeah. You know how people say they can see God in someone?” Mike asks, and Will nods. “I can see God in you.”

Hawkins, Montana, June 1988. When Lonnie Byers catches his youngest son in the arms of another boy, he calls in that favor owed to him by rancher Jim Hopper in Lenora: Will must work as an unpaid ranch hand and learn to "man up." Mike Wheeler follows him to the creepy ranch with electrical problems, like any best friend would.

Warnings: Period-Typical Homophobia, Blood and Gore

Read on Ao3 | View Art (1) (2)

Read an excerpt below:

“Why did you come?” Will repeats. “You didn’t have to do that. I didn’t ask you to come. You could have stayed in Hawkins.”

Mike furrows his brows and juts his chin forward. “I wasn’t going to just let you go by yourself. Who knows…what would happen?”

Will pauses. “...What would happen…if you were in Hawkins alone?”

Mike looks up at him. Looks him straight in the eyes. “No. What would happen to me if you were here alone.”

Will shakes his head. “You would be fine. You would’ve managed, like you always do.”

“So what are you saying, that I shouldn’t have come?”

“That’s not what I’m saying and you know it.”

“Will…we can’t talk about that right now.”

“Well, when can we?”

“Will. Why?”

“Because I want to talk about it.” Will braces himself.

“Well, I should have said never. We can’t ever talk about this.” Mike scoots closer to Will. “This is one of those things, Will, that we’re not supposed to talk about.”

“Why, what’s going to happen?” Will challenges, suddenly feeling brave.

“We could—” Mike nearly shouts. He takes a breath, and then lowers his voice. “Someone could find out,” he says calmly. “People get beaten. People get sick, Will. They don’t…they’re not happy.”

“Mike, I can’t—some people can’t just…ignore it. I don’t think this is anything that will just go away. Pretending to be something else makes people unhappy, too.”

“Well, this sounds like a lose-lose situation. Damned if you do, damned if you don’t,” Mike says, resigned.

The wind howls through the valley, and Will clutches his hat to keep it from flying off.

“You don’t really think that, do you?” Will asks quietly. He doesn’t know what answer he’s hoping for.

Mike looks down at his hands, fidgets with his gloves. He swallows hard, clears his throat. “Father Frank said that if a man experiences any unholy…feelings…that he can’t suppress, then he should devote his life to God and join the priesthood.”

Will contemplates this response. “You really believe a man like that is…damned?”

“I don’t know what I believe anymore.” Mike removes his gloves and tosses them on the ground in front of him, hard.

Will watches Mike’s face as he blinks slowly, his mouth twisted in distress. He so badly wants to believe Mike is wrong, that there is a way they could be happy—whether that’s together or on their own. Deep down, they both know Father Frank is right. Damned to hell for following his heart. Condemned to a lonely life as a priest if he follows the Bible. He chuckles, in spite of himself.

“What?” Mike questions, clearly thrown off by Will’s reaction.

“Oh, nothing, it’s just—” Will laughs again. “I can’t imagine you being a priest.”

Mike raises his eyebrows. The corners of his mouth twitch. “That’d be terrible, I think.”

“Terrible for you? Or for the Church?”

Mike bites his lip. “Both,” he admits.

They share a laugh. It feels good.

“I think you’d make a good priest,” Mike says, after a moment. His face is serious, but there’s an almost joyful sincerity in his eyes.

“Yeah?” Will asks, flattered.

“Yeah. You know how people say they can see God in someone?”

Mike asks. Will nods. “I can see God in you.”

Read more on Ao3 >

#byler big bang #bbb23 #byler #byler fanfiction #byler fanart #masterpost #nosebleeds from epiphanies

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0anxietea0 · 8 months

Text

Hi :D

This is my, first ever fanfic- about stuff that happened on the qsmp! Mainly just Bad being sus around Pac, and Pac getting tired after eating the cake. Just gave me ideas, y'know?

Please be kind to me about it, it's something for fun and nothing more :'D

Okay, maybe eating that cake wasn't such a good idea after all..

Pac felt so tired as he warped to Ilha Chume Labs, after leaving Bagi to go their separate ways. She too, thought it wasn't good he had the cake in the first place, with his weird Bad has been. In his defense, it was a really good cake! He'll give credit where it's due to Bad's baking skill, but maybe it's why he's so tired now.. Surely Bad wouldn't do that to him, right?

It has been a very long past several weeks, trying to give Bad the benefit of the doubt. Yawning as he made his way to the warehouse, Pac knew he wasn't going to make it to his chair. Too tired, it felt like his leg would give out under him. So as he entered, he practically dropped to the floor to lay down. Shooing off the lab rats, they scurried away. A little nap here would be fine, yeah..

In the distance, there was the sound of someone warping to the waystone. Approaching the storage house, the door opened quietly to view the sight of Pac on the floor. The uninvited guest smiled, kneeling down to scoop the man into his arms. Just barely awake, Pac tried to open his eyes in a panic, but his eyelids felt too heavy. Powerless to do much, but aware of what was happening.

It was happening again.

He was being taken from a place he thought was safe, again.

Unable to fight off the pull of sleep, despite the coffee he had not long ago, Pac gave in. Left in the hands of whoever was carrying him out of his home..

---------------

Hours go by, dreams of his family to nightmares of his trauma plagued his mind.. All before Pac was finally able to wake up.

His eyes still felt heavy, but this time he was able to keep them open. The floor felt soft.. wait, soft? Only then did his eyes open wide, sitting up quickly. Vague memories of being lifted up coming back to him.

The room was white, yet decorated. Shining, white walls reminded him of the federation. "Não.. não NÃO!" Pac threw himself out of the bed, hopping down the loft in sheer panic.

This was nothing like a regular cell, it looked like.. someone's living space. Apartment, was the word? It did little to ease his fear, stepping back into a corner and sitting down with tearful eyes. Pac looked for his warpstone, his backpacks, tools. But there was nothing. They're all gone.

Trapped. Completely trapped.

Pac couldn't help but cry. He just got Mike back, who was messed up. Now this time, he's gone again. It was like they were toys, taken back and forth, swapping places again and again.

His mind assumed the federation, from past experiences, but he couldn't be more wrong.. He just didn't know it yet.

His cries were heard, the soft sound of footsteps approaching him while his eyes were tightly closed. Bracing himself for whatever may come. But there was nothing. No pain, nor touch. Just the soft sound of a quill scraping again paper. A book.

Hesitant, Pac peeked an eye open. A worker.. Dressed in a vest and hat, yet no face. Not Walter Bob, but someone he's never seen before.

"Olá?"

He tried, before getting handed a book so carefully. His gaze flicked between the book and the worker, he opened it.

Deep breaths, it's okay.. I won't hurt you. I'm sorry he brought you here.

Ah.. English with this worker too, it seemed. They claimed to be harmless, and looked as much. Taking deep breaths, he wiped his eyes while he wondered, who was "he"?

It took a moment before he could respond, gathering his thoughts the best he could.

"Whose he? Who brought me here? Why?"

He asked in a desperate tone, wanting to know what the fuck was going on. But before the worker could respond, the reinforced door opened, and someone walked in..

..Bad?

"Oh, good! You're awake!" Bad said with a smile, with such false innocence on his face and cheerfulness in his voice. The demon walked around the pool table to the two captive people, clapping his hands together.

"Let's get introductions out of the way.. Ron, this is Pac! Pac, this is Ron. You two, are going to be roommates! Isn't that just exciting?" His words were laced with venom at the end, sending a chill through Pac.

Bad wasn't joking like he claimed to be before. He really did it. He kidnapped him. And a worker too it seemed, Ron?

"Why..? Why!?" Pac questioned, standing up with a look of desperation. "What did I do!?"

All he could recall was making a joke or two, nothing serious. Did it hit a nerve that badly..?

"Well," Bad began, unfazed by the desperation. The demand for answers. "You were getting on my nerves a little bit, and Ron needed a friend, so.. Yeah! I think you get it."

The response hardly felt like a proper explanation at all. It didn't explain anything.

"That- that doesn't make any sense!" Pac shook his head, wanting a true answer. Something, anything as to why Bad did this to him.

But Bad laughed, brushing it off. "I'll give you two time to get to know each other, okay? I'll be back in an hour with fresh groceries, see you later!" The demon turned, hurrying off to the door and leaving before Pac could even think of running out behind him. If he tried, it'd probably get him killed anyway..

Pac held back a sob as he looked at Ron, sliding back down on to the floor. Would anyone care that he's gone, will he be missed? Everyone is so busy these days, will his absence be felt..? Thoughts swirled through his head as soft, fuzzy arms wrapped around him.

Ron hugged Pac as gently as he could, trying to comfort him. They were both stuck in the same situation, there was no reason to be afraid.

They'll be here for a while, after all. Whether they like it or not.

#qsmp #q!badboyhalo #q!pactw #qsmp fanfiction #i dont know how to tag lol #qsmp ron

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eriquin · 11 months

Text

The Prophetic D&D Game, Part 5

Since ao3 is down and I'm bored, I might as well post the next part of this, too. I figured out where it's going but it'll take a while to get there.

(master post)

Part 5:

It was a full month later before they had a player miss a Hellfire meeting. Jeff had an orthodontist appointment after school, getting his new braces adjusted, and wouldn’t be able to make it. So Eddie put away his Cult of Vecna notes and set out the character sheets for the mystery game instead.

“Looks like we’ll be delving deeper into the murder of Lady Grace,” he said. “I leave it up to you all. Do you wish to continue playing the characters you played before, or trade around for new ones. Maybe give Grant a chance to read through them all?”

“No way,” Mike said, grabbing at Joe’s character sheet. “It’s paladin time.”

“Dude, you were just saying how he’s the worst paladin,” said Dustin.

“The worst paladin is still better than the best bard,” Mike said. “Oh, look at me. I’m so special. I’ve got a little lute and druid spells.”

Dustin whipped off his hat and smacked Mike with it. Gareth had to put himself between the two of them and use his elbows to keep them apart.

Eddie leaned back in his throne and grinned at the chaos. “I take it you’re going to continue to play Maya, Gare-bear?” he asked.

“Yeah, probably,” Gareth said. He got an evil grin on his face. “Unless you have a character sheet for Quinn hiding back there.”

The smile disappeared from Eddie’s face. “No,” he said flatly.

“Aww, don’t want anyone playing your little Marty Stu?” Gareth teased.

“What’s a Marty Stu?” Lucas asked. He was looking between the character sheets for Sadie and Caleb, with Grant leaning over his shoulder to read them as well.

“It’s a Star Trek thing,” Dustin said with a pile of false confidence. “But it’s called a Mary Sue, see—”

“Jesus Christ.” Eddie put his head in his hands. “Henderson, stop talking. All of you, pick some characters. Quinn is not playable. Gareth, if I hear the joke that I know you’re about to make come out of your mouth, I will eat your favorite D20. I think we all know how that will end.”

Gareth gasped and snatched up the speckled green and black die from the table, clutching it to his hard. “Not Miss Jade the Faithful! You wouldn’t.”

“You told me to get better threats. I have. Maybe I won’t eat her. Maybe I’ll just chew on her for a while.”

While Gareth cradled his die protectively and Eddie made disgusting pretend eating noises at him, the rest of them picked out character sheets. Dustin and Lucas both decided to stick with their characters from the previous run, and Grant wanted to try playing Natalia.

“Great,” Eddie said. “Let’s get started. First things first, we left off with Quinn agreeing to help you figure out who killed Lady Grace. But there’s the downside of him being actively hunted by the town guard. What do you do?”

The players, minus Grant, had a quick discussion. “The alchemist’s house is still safe, right?” Dustin asked. “I mean, Caleb and Joe both made sure to clear out the guard’s records about it, didn’t they?”

“They think they did,” Eddie said. He grinned. “Do you trust that it worked?”

The freshmen looked alarmed at this information, but Gareth rolled his eyes. He leaned over to whisper something to Mike, and then to Dustin, and then gestured for Dustin to tell it to Lucas. After their game of telephone, they all looked at each other and nodded. Dustin spoke up again. “We’re going to tell Quinn to stay here, where it’s safe, while we head back to town.”

Eddie paused for a moment to let them get nervous, and then nodded. “All right, then. Moving on.” He steered them back towards town, and they decided among themselves to go back by a different gate. This was well within his plans, so he rolled some dice to pick which character noticed it first. “Dustin, as you get back to the city, Gaten is almost bowled over by a trio of guards on horseback. They don’t notice him at all—”

“Well, he is short,” Mike said.

Eddie glared at him. Mike shrunk back and grimaced. Eddie continued his description of the scene. “They keep riding through the crowd towards the southern quarter.”

“Oh!” Dustin said. “Maybe they have a lead. We should follow them.”

The rest of the party agreed, and Eddie led them through a series of backroads that dumped them out of the southern gate of the city. He passed a note to Grant, then described the scene. The guards were blocking all passage along the southern road and keeping the crowd back. The party could see Natalia, Grant's character, at the edge of the crowd. They quickly absorbed her into the group and found a quiet spot to catch up on everything. Grant had extra notes about what Natalia had been doing up to this point, and he filled the party in about what he’d witnessed.

“We were investigating the murder of Lady Grace,” he said, “when Logan, the other ranger with me, disappeared. The guards found his body a few hours later.”

“Why are the rangers investigating a murder?” Gareth asked.

Grant barely blinked at this. “Professional interest,” he said flatly.

“How come you didn’t track Logan down when he disappeared?” Gareth asked. “Isn’t that what rangers do?”

“How do you think I got here?” Grant said. He gestured with his hand as if they were standing there in person. “He’s on the main road outside the southern entrance to town. We were by the main wall of the thieves’ quarter, which is in the—” He snapped his fingers and glanced at Eddie, prompting him for a direction.

“In the east,” Eddie said.

“I tracked him through the eastern woods to get here. The guards just found him on the road.” Grant let a smug smile creep onto his face. “I know what I’m doing.”

Gareth held his hands up in supplication. “Okay, I yield. Do you want to fill us in on what you found by tracking?”

Grant looked at Eddie, who pulled out his stack of note cards. “Roll against your wis,” Eddie said as he started to write. Grant rolled well, and he wrote out a little more information than he’d planned. He passed it over to him and went back to watching the game unfold.

#I do not remember what joke Gareth was going to make about Quinn #i remember it was funny #and probably dirty #but i don't remember what the joke was #hellfire club #the prophetic d&d game #stranger things #i don't think this one will be steddie but you never know #that's how all my other fics are going #my writing

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bakeryblood · 2 years

Text

Memories

Eddie Munson x Male Reader

Pt.2

cw: Loveless Relationship, Religious Trauma, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Angst, Abuse

Recommend other warnings if you feel it’s necessary.

_______________________________________________

“Come on baby, you can do it..” Eddie mumbled to himself as he struggled to close up the rolling paper without ripping it for the third time, it was his last one in the little orange paper packet.

His uncles schedule had become a bit hectic since he got a promotion. He went from a set schedule of nights to sometimes having to come in early in the morning and staying until nine, ten at night. Sometimes later. Which just made Eddie’s routine of staying quiet or out of the house during the day regardless of how late a night he might’ve had, flip flop to nights so he didn’t disturb Wayne.

Just as he brought the joint up to his mouth to try and re-wet the seal the phone sitting on the small table next to the couch he was held up on began to ring loudly, causing him to practically leap out of his skin.

The rolling tray on his lap took an unceremonious tumble to the floor, the joint he had been working on disappearing from his hand as the rest of the little bits of broken up marijuana seemingly did the same into the carpet.

All that hard work. Wasted.

“Fuck!—“ he grabbed the handset of the phone and pulled it off the base, holding it up to his face. “Someone better be dead or currently in the process of dying kids.” He could only assume it was Henderson, or maybe but even less likely, Mike. Either way he was pissed and the person on the other end of the line could tell as much.

“..Kids?” Eddie straightened up on the couch immediately upon hearing Y/N’s voice, clearing his throat before responding a little less awkwardly this time.

“Oh damn Y/N..sorry about that. I thought you might’ve been someone else..” He explained, making it less awkward, but not by much. He had never been good at talking on the phone, his hands were already starting to sweat and he perpetually had something stuck in his throat.

“If now is a bad time I can—“

“No no, I can talk, sorry again.” Eddie pulled the phone away from his face a covered the bottom part as he cursed himself out before bringing it back to his ear and waiting through the brief moment of silence.

“I was going to ask if you wanted to go out for coffee?” A coffee? Had Eddie actually ever gotten a coffee from some place? He did know of a diner here in town that had to serve coffee, but it wasn’t what Y/N was probably thinking of. The bigger cities had cafés and shops dedicated just to coffee.

“Uh..well funny thing actually..”

Y/N braced himself for them to continue and tell him he had plans, that he was busy that day. That he didn’t even like coffee. Any kind of excuse they could think of to avoid the awkward atmosphere from the night before.

“My van shit out on me last night. Like, literally a mile away from my house.” Eddie used his hand to rub his face in exasperation as he thought it over again. How he had to walk home, cold and tired as hell, having to just pray it wasn’t towed off before he could get out there and mess with it.

“Oh..I don’t mind coming to you. That’s no problem. I could help you take a look at it if you want?” Why the hell did he just offer to do that? Y/N wasn’t at all mechanically inclined. Out of all of his skills like not freaking out over having a conversation over the phone or knowing when to kiss his employers ass, working on cars didn’t fit in with the rest.

“I’d hate making you drive all the way to Hawkins.” In reality if he really didn’t want you to come he wouldn’t have even told you what town he lived in.

“Nope, it’s no problem. I need to get out of the house anyway or I’ll go stir crazy.” Y/N knew the of the town probably a little over an hours drive away.

He’d seen things on the news about the wild happenings from the last few years. Russian espionage, kids going missing, the mall burning down and getting rebuilt and so on.

Eddie sighed to himself with a grin before nodding despite no one else being there to see him do it. “Then I guess I’ll see ya’ soon. Just go down the main road all the way through town once you get off the highway and eventually you’ll see a trailer park. I’ll try to wave you down.”

“Sounds good Ed, see you soon.” And with that he’d hung up. The reason why he’d felt so giddy to get to see them so soon seemed obvious, he was getting to rekindle a childhood friendship he’d thought was lost forever. But he was also anxious about having them come here, to his little shared trailer. Maybe even a tad embarrassed.

Looking down at the mess on the floor he quickly jumped up and began searching for his momentarily forgotten about joint, hoping he hadn’t absolutely destroyed it in the process of it getting thrown. He needed that thing now more than ever.

________________________________________

Y/N slowly pulled out of the multi story parking garage that sat beside his apartment building, obstructing anyone on that sides chances of a view of the city as he listened in to the radio station.

“Listen here folks! If you, your mother or your best friend thinks they know of some grade-A talent, all of us at WRZX are looking forward to hearing about them!” Y/N quirked an eyebrow as he turned the volume on his radio up as he listened in to the announcer tell him and everyone else listening in about their new plan to possibly give some local bands a bit of ‘free’ exposure.

“You can either call in or come down to the station to fill out an application for air time.”

That guy, Donald, always thought of himself as something of a comedic genius, when in reality he just used the term ‘joking’ as an excuse to say whatever the fuck he wanted.

Y/N scoffed at the memory of one time he’d caught him in the hall at the end of the day outside of the broadcasting studio. Kimberly stood there with a stack of folders and papers in her arms, repeatedly trying to exit the conversation as his arm stretched out in front of her palm against the wall.

Y/N took his gold wire framed reading glasses off and tucked them into the front pocket of his white long sleeve button up before giving a sigh. It was only his second week there and he hadn’t expected to get himself involved in any trouble this quick.

But the borderline fearful look on the girl who he had to thank for even having the job’s face did him in. That guy had to pushing into his mid-thirties, what a fuckin’ creep.

“Hey Kimber, Mr. Denver said he really needs those AQH forms before he leaves for the day.”

Donald took his arm down and turned to look at you as Kimber rushed past him, you stood with your hands in the pockets of your tan trousers. “Well hey buddy, you all dressed up in your Clark Kent costume today?”

“Oh this? I don’t know, maybe you should ask your mother. She picked it out for me.”

The sound of him aggressively shoving you against the wall caused the blonde woman to stop in her tracks and turn back around to watch as her annoyance from earlier held a tight grip on the front of your shirt, popping several buttons off from the top in the process.

“The hell did you just say?” Y/N recoiled as much as he could in his current position, turning his head up and away to look at the ceiling before he spoke. “Damn man, you need a mint? I’ve got a pack of altos’ in my pocket..”

He pulled his hand out and help up his middle finger where the older man could get a good look at it before grinning and shrugging his shoulders. “Oops, I must’ve forgot them in my other ‘Clark Kent’ pants.”

Donald heard the sound of Kimberly’s laugh echoing down the hall despite her attempts at covering her mouth and let you go, huffing, red in the face as he walked off mumbling something about ‘shithead teenagers’ as he went.

Y/N’s grin immediately disappeared as the man did, reaching up to feel his shirt and scanning the floor for the lost buttons as Kimberly rushed back down the hall, her footsteps muffled by the carpet on the floors.

“You didn’t need to do that for me.” She said as she knelt, placing the stack of papers beside her, brushing her hand across the carpet until she found the little clearish-white buttons and held them up.

“Sure I did. You’ve done a lot for me Kimber.” She directed her eyes back to the floor as you took the buttons from her open palm. You were the only one who had ever called her Kimber and it never failed to make her heart flutter slightly.

“Um, Y/N..” You looked up from your shirt as she stood, arms full once again. “I could fix that for you, if you want. I hate taking the bus to my apartment anyway so…”

You chuckled and gave a complacent nod. “So a lift home in exchange for your services? Sounds good to me, go run those to his office and I’ll pull the car around to the front.”

And since that first night at her apartment it was like you just, never left. Maybe a month or two after that she began giving you small kisses on your cheek and eventually that turned into pecks on your lips. You didn’t know how to handle something like that without coming off as hurtful or suspicious.

So you just fell in line for her, trying your best to fill the boyfriend role in any way she asked of you. You two were good enough together, you cooked, she cleaned, you told each other about your high school years. She told you about her childhood, her mother passing and her disciplinarian of a father. Her three older sisters who had all married young and never looked back.

In the time you had spent away from home you had successfully blocked out the memories of your childhood and your father because the two went hand in hand. But last night, after the two of you crawled into bed you stayed up almost all night. Not thinking of him, but of your mother.

She was like an angel to you. So beautiful and loving, caring for you and your father. Supporting every little thing did with praise, no matter how silly it seemed even to you. It was important to her that you knew you were loved. It was important to her that you knew you could talk to her about anything.

When the of days of that summer break began to tick down closer and faster towards the end her glow faded as she entertained your fathers loud, vicious words. Accusing her of not only cheating on him, but with a woman at that.

You remember hearing them so clearly, you didn’t have the option not to as you weren’t allowed a door on your bedroom. Your best friends own mothers’ funeral having just been held a couple months ago, not even a week later she was gone. Police coming to the house to tell your father the details, he never tried to tell you anything but you’d heard them just like so many arguments between your parents before.

You pressed on your breaks as you passed a State Trooper pushing at least 85mph, breathing fast as your eyes flicked from the speedometer to your rear view mirror expecting to see the red and blues’ kick on as he busted ass after you.

Lucky for you he was snoozing away, catching a nap was the whole reason he had chosen this spot on the highway perch himself at.

You felt your heartbeat loudly in your chest as you passed up the evergreen sign that read ‘Welcome to Hawkins’. Keeping your speed under control as you cruised through the center of town, remembering he’d said if you just stayed on this road you’d soon enough come to the trailer park he lived in.

And you did, after passing by his van that sat on the side of the road. You pulled in and looked at each of the RV’s and Trailer homes before pulling up outside of one with heavy tread marks in the moist dirt outside, hoping it was this one.

_______________________________________________

“So much for waving me down, huh?” Y/N said as he walked through the front door to the trailer, the door creaking as it swung closed behind him.

Eddie looked up at him and his eyes widened as he quickly looked for the ashtray to snub the doobie out in while Y/N laughed at him, shaking his head. “Quit tripping, you think I’ve never smoked weed before?”

Eddie let the smoke he had been holding on out and shook his head. “No not really, can you blame me though? You seem pretty straight edge to me.”

“Oh Eddie Boy, I’m as far from ‘straight edge’ as one could possibly be.” If he hadn’t been so hung up on them calling him Eddie Boy perhaps he would’ve questioned more about what he’d meant. But the last thing he wanted to do so early on in the rekindling process, was pry.

Y/N motioned for them to pass it to him as he stood in front of their seated form on the couch, placing it between his lips before sliding past Eddie’s legs and the long coffee table covered in assorted mess to sit next to him on the couch.

“You look tired.” Eddie looked over their face, their everything really but Y/N’s face was exceptionally nice to look at, whether he was currently stoned or not. He couldn’t help but constantly compare you to actors he’d seen in movies recently, why on earth you were still wasting your time in Indiana he’d never know. “Kimberly keep you up late?”

You knew exactly what he was insinuating. “Dude..” He laughed at your uncomfortable expression as you tried to keep your gaze elsewhere, like on the joint between your fingers.

“What?”

“We don’t…Kimber isn’t like that.”

“Like what?” Ed raised his eyebrows at you as you cracked a half smile, trying to think of the best way to describe the dynamic when you really could think of a million other things you’d rather talk about.

“She wasn’t raised like that Y’know? Saving herself til’ marriage type stuff.” Eddie mumbled an ‘oh my god’ under his breath as he thought it over, reaching over and accepting the joint back.

“How does that work?”

Y/N rolled his eyes and shrugged, “I just does.”

“Fuck that— no offense, but I couldn’t do that. I’d probably die.”

“I didn’t come here to talk about my love life and your apparent lack of one Ed.” Ouch, okay. Point taken.

Silence took over the room for a moment until Y/N stood and Eddie’s eyes watched him make his way across the room and into the little kitchen area, looking around at the things on the counter until they landed on the plug in ‘Aromaster’ coffee machine. Wayne had actually just invested in it after getting tired of Eddie leaving the pot on the stove top too long, burning it.

“Mind if I?” Eddie waved his hand, signaling him to go ahead. He was absolutely worthless in the kitchen, to the point where Wayne had forbidden him from even thinking about using the stove. Telling him the last thing he needed to wake up to was the damn thing being on fire because the dumbass forgot about a pan of pizza bagels in there for eight hours.

“Have you seen Stand By Me yet?“ It had been showing at their local theater for the last month and Eddie decided to finally fold and go see it by himself the week before.

“Nope, not yet.”

“We should go see it, you know, have Kimberly come down with you next time.”

Y/N half smiled as he scooped coffee grounds into the filter waiting inside the top of the machine. “We work on opposite days so neither of us have the same day off, plus I don’t think that movie is her speed.”

Eddie nodded as he heard him click the top of the machine closed and the sound of the water heating up begin. “It reminded me of our last summer break together before you moved.”

Y/N gave a laugh as he turned to lean against the counter, trying to think about how he could’ve possibly made that connection. Their childhoods just weren’t that interesting, not Stephen King level interesting anyways. “Yeah, like when you got caught trying to lift all those comics? That dude was pulling issue after issue out from under your shirt.”

“That was your fault! You were supposed to be my look out!” Eddie sat up on the couch with a grin as he recalled that day, not his proudest moment. “What about that night I FINALLY caught a lighting bug and I came to show you and you smacked it out of my hand, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah I remember.”

“‘Bugs are gross!’” He made his voice go up a pitch as he weakly imitated how you sounded as a child.

“Bugs ARE gross.”

Eddie laughed and ashed into the small glass tray him and Wayne both used. “I don’t know..besides you my only other friends were the roaches at my old mans place.” Thinking about his dad he slowly looked up from the ashtray as you looked through the cabinets for a cup that wasn’t used as decoration around there before leaping up and rushing past the kitchen towards his bedroom.

“Where are you—“

“Just hold on! I’ve gotta show you something just— let me find it..” His voice called from his room as you poured your coffee and looked for sugar, of which there was none. Eddie didn’t even actually drink coffee, he felt wired enough without caffeine and Wayne took his black. Neither of them ever having the thought to just have sugar on hand for anything.

Y/N slowly made their way down the little hall Eddie had disappeared down and as he entered the room he could see the man down on his knees in front of a bookshelf, opening and closing boxes, their contents rattling as he put each of them back until he finally found what he was looking for. A little, light blue faux leather pocket book with a tarnished yellow gold clasp on the front he’d pulled from a shoe box.

He raised himself up off of his knees and walked over to the bed where Y/N sat next to him after setting his cup on the bedside table. “What is it?”

“It was my moms..But it’s what is inside of it that I wanted to show you.”

He held it out for the man to take, which he gingerly did before popping the clasp and unfolding it to show flap after flap of photographs covered in a protective, clear plastic. Looking them over you could see it was pictures of the two of you as kids, a small photo shoot type affair your mothers forced the two of you into doing. Dressing you up in your silliest little sweaters and dragging you down to the mall in the middle of winter to make memories.

Just looking at that first picture for a moment was all it took to take you back to that day as you looked at your younger self, leaning your back against Eddie’s with an unamused expression on your face contrasting the wide happy grin on his. Arms crossed as you no doubt refused to listen to the photographer’s instructions, until you saw the look on your mothers face as her and Mrs. Munson held each other and laughed at the two of you.

Not in a mocking way but purely ecstatic that they’d be able to memorialize your friendship with these photos, show them to your respective girlfriends one day and laugh like this again.

You just wanted to make her happy and keep that smile on her face, that was both of yours thought process as you silently decided to ham it up as much as possible for them and the camera. And it showed as you flipped to the next picture. Both of them laid on their stomachs, heads propped up on their hands as they smiled at the camera.

Next was one the photographer had moved in close and told you to pretend to sleep. Looking back on it, it seemed strange, but you had the thought that they probably had the idea in their head that the two of you were brothers.

Eddie’s arm was draped over your mid section as you rested your head back on your arm that was folded behind it, faces serene. Only for the two of you to crack up the second you knew they’d gotten the picture. You’d shoved Eddie off of you and watched him dramatically roll on the floor pretending to be injured.

You sighed as you remembered and looked over at Eddie who had laid back on the bed, arms crossed behind his head.

Eddie’s mother died of cancer a several months later, at the start of their summer break. Saying your mother was devastated would be an understatement. When you came to the funeral you couldn’t understand what you were expected to express in that moment, holding your friend as he cried whilst you stood stoic and uncomfortable. You wish you had known that soon enough the grief he was feeling would befall you too soon enough.

Suicide. She’d rented a hotel room to get away from your father for a few nights, or so you’d thought. Found the roof access door left unlocked by some of the lobby boys’ from one of their smoke breaks and eventually after some amount of time of looking over the city she jumped. Soon enough your father brought her home in a little ceramic jar and told you that you would be moving away a week from then. No funeral, no time for mourning. No one coming to comfort you or pay their respects to her.

“You know, that was the worst summer of my life.” Eddie covered his face as he recalled the day he came by Y/N’s house the day before school was to start back up and they were all packed up and gone. The house abandoned, your baseball bat from little league sitting lonely on the back porch.

“It was for me too Ed.”

“You’re fucking weird, you know that right?”

Y/N put the pocket book down and shook his head at the comment before standing up and taking a few steps towards the door, debating leaving then and there. He didn’t need this, he didn’t come here to have terrible memories drug up and his inability to process them emotionally thrown in his face.

“I couldn’t stop crying that day.” Eddie sat up and stared at Y/N’s back with knitted brows. “Do you cry? Have you ever cried about her?”

You turned around and watched as he quickly stood up and made his way to you, intent on making sure you listened to him. “It’s fucked that you’d even ask me that, do you really think you know me well enough now to make assumptions like that?”

“I knew you back then! Remember when we saw that dead dog in the road on the way back from your baseball practice? I started crying and you didn’t. You just kept on walking.” Eddie moved to the side and closed the door to his room.

“Do you think my dad would have given a shit that I was late because of a dead dog?”

“You think mine did? He was pissed but that was better than him just ignoring me like he usually did.”

Y/N fought the urge to harden up, placing his hand on his hip as the other came up to scratch his neck as he laughed slightly, thinking it over. “Eddie, did your dad ever put hands on you?”

The long haired man scoffed, shaking his head. He never would’ve put the effort into doing something like that, the only time he gave him attention was when he wanted to play pretend. Like he was his own version of ‘dad of the year’, teaching his kid how to hot-wire a car or not get caught lifting a 40 from the gas station for him.

“Mine did. Every single day.” Y/N kept his eyes closed as he spoke. He didn’t want to see their reaction to what he said. “So excuse me if I don’t cry about dead dogs and moms in front of you to make you feel better. Because tears fuel men like that, it sets them off.” There, it was out in the open now.

“Dude..” He held his hand up to stop him from continuing and made his way back over to the bed and copied how Eddie had laid down earlier, trying to relax the tense muscles in his back. He just wanted to come here and have a good time, he didn’t know it was going to be like this.

“Can we please be done with it. I get it, I’m fucked up and weird. You’re fucked up and learned how to handle it.”

He wasn’t fucked up, but he HAD fucked up. If Y/N locked things up and didn’t deal with things he needed to then Eddie leapt at the opportunity to deal with things immediately. He couldn’t handle the uncomfortable feeling that had built up, not just during the couple of hours of their visit but ever since he’d moved away that summer. He had to address it, and now he regretted it like usual. More than usual.

“Y/N I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that..I guess I was just thinking about her, about both of them and it made me upset..” He came and took up the spot on the bed beside him once again. Maybe it was also his lack of understanding on why they’d left that caused him to lash out, he’d lost his mother and his best friend in the same summer.

Year after year of trying to find someone to fill that space, year after year of them popping into his mind late at night and thinking he’d never see them again. And then they didn’t even remember, they couldn’t even recognize him every time Y/N had watched his band play. He wasn’t that much better at healthily addressing his emotions.

“It’s fine, no harm done.” It sounded like he was telling the truth, but his tone seemed strained and detached almost from their earlier interaction. In reality he was thinking it over in his head and it was probably beneficial in the long run for him to have come out with it. Even if he couldn’t admit to everything he’d kept to himself for the longest time. His drug use, his sexuality, the full extent of the abuse and how it probably was the reason for a lot of his issues once he’d left home.

He started smoking pot but eventually it just didn’t help anymore. Once he left his fathers house he was essentially homeless, bouncing from couch to couch, the occasional bed of another man. Think of a drug and he’d probably tried it, dabbled in it even.

But it never helped enough to make it a constant in his life. Neither did drinking but it was almost like he was peer pressured into enjoying it. The frequency of it was hard to keep up with as he sometimes didn’t even remember going to the bar much less making it back home. Keeping it a secret from Kimber kept him from being consumed by the habit.

“You know the radio station I work at is letting bands come play live on the air this month.”

“No shit? You think me and the boys should come down and try?” A grin quickly found its way back to Eddie’s face when he heard them, propping himself up on his side as he looked at the other.

“Well, if I’m there I think I make sure they let y’all on.” He smiled himself and closed his eyes again, content with himself being able to get the conversation back on a happy topic.

“Oh so you’re the key to it, huh?”

“Oh yeah, I’m a pretty big deal there.” It was a half lie, he was like a jack of all trades really and his boss was fond of him going above and beyond while getting paid the same as everyone else. Eddie found himself taking in the sight of him once again, their face reminiscent of how it had looked in the final photo in the pocket book but with the small upturn to his lips.

He almost felt short of breath, perhaps from the adrenaline from earlier but something was urging him to do something, touch his face, anything. But he didn’t know why. When Y/N opened one of his eyes and looked up Eddie was suspiciously close to him, maybe five inches between their face and his. He thought about asking him why but in the moment he didn’t allow himself time for his body and brain to establish a connection. He close the space between them and kissed him, moving his hand to weave their fingers through his curly hair as he held the back of their head.

For a moment it seemed like Eddie was kissing him back until he pushed them away, forcing him back against the bed. “Why did you do that!”

Y/N laughed, lifting his legs up as he did and then using the momentum to haul himself up off the bed. “Guess I just felt like it, seemed right in the moment? Because I’m weird?” He picked up his forgotten coffee and took a drink before continuing. “What answer would you prefer?”

“The real one? W-What about Kimberly?”

He held up a finger and waggled it as if to say ‘you got me there’ before putting the cup back down. “Mm, yes. I suppose I could say ‘we’re just friends’, but that wouldn’t be right. Again, I don’t know what you expect me to say that your big ol’ brain can’t figure out on its own.” He felt a bit like an ass, like he was making one out of himself, but he was actually embarrassed with himself. Of all the times in the world to lose control he had to now? With Eddie?

Who was sitting up on the bed as frazzled as can be, hand covering his mouth as he thought about what you’d said earlier. About the two of you not having sex, and that it worked for you. You being gay wouldn’t have been a world ending revelation had your lips not just been on his, and he hadn’t found himself kissing you back even if just for a moment.

“Well…well still..”

“Well what, Eddie? Want me to call up to the station now and tell her?” The metalhead stayed silent as he continued to cover his heated face, he could barely formulate his thoughts into words. Was that really what he was hung up about? The chick? “Otherwise she wouldn’t even know. Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that..”

He stood there for a few seconds, watching as Eddie’s dark eyes flickered up towards him from the spot on the bed they’d been laying in earlier and then back again before Y/N finally opened the bedroom door and fled.

#stranger things #stranger things x male reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x m!reader #eddie munson x male reader #eddie munson x male!reader #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson concept #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson angst #angst fic #stranger things angst

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crossingbaranduin · 10 months

Text

Guessing Games

(Teen | The Almighty Johnsons | Anders & Mike | 1.4k words)

Summary: Axl found out that saying “guess what” will lead to Mike knowing the “what” in question, since it was a game. Naturally, Anders figured out how to exploit that. (Or, five times Anders made Mike “guess what”, and one time he couldn’t but asked anyway.)

Notes: A quick, fun work spawned by a Discord message from @blairsanne: “I need someone to write a 5&1 where Anders annoys the shit out of Mike and then uses that Guess What game for a good purpose”. I’ll never turn down writing about my two favorites, so… here it is! Enjoy! : )

Read on AO3 here!

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As with many things in their family, it all started with someone being just a bit too curious. This time, it was Anders — about Mike's powers in particular.

“There’s no way you can know what I’m thinking if I say ‘guess what’. That’s bullshit!”

“One, no it’s not. Two, how did you even find out about that?”

“Axl told me. You’re god of games, not god of being psychic!”

“It’s a game where to win, I have to know what you’re thinking. It’s not that hard, Anders.”

“Fine,” Anders rolled his eyes. “Guess what?"

A thought that was definitively not his own filled his mind. Ty and I were the ones who broke the window crank on your old truck. Ty tried to crank the window closed on me.

Mike stopped, all thoughts of proving his point abandoned at Anders’ admission. "That was you?!"

"Holy shit, it does work," Anders said, astonished.

"Yes, it does, but my window crank doesn't!"

"It didn’t; that truck is long gone now, anyways." Anders grin only grew as he continued. "Oh, I'm so going to abuse this."

And with that, Mike realized just how critical of a mistake he had made in mentioning this ability to Anders.

"...Goddamnit."

----------

It wouldn't be Anders if he didn't immediately test the limits of something.

Unfortunately, knowing that did nothing to stop it, as Mike found out not long after Anders' original discovery. The bar was empty, and oddly quiet for once, as the two of them waited for the rest of the gods to arrive.

Or, it was, until Anders spoke up out of the blue. “Guess what?”

What if—

…

…Mike refused to repeat the rest of what Anders was thinking, even within the confines of his own head. Frankly, he wasn’t sure what of that was Anders’ own fucked-up ingenuity and what was Bragi’s gift with words used for horrible purposes.

It was a vivid mental image, that was for sure, and one he'd like to never have again.

He didn't dare turn around, his jaw clenched as he nearly glared a hole into the shelves in front of him. “Anders?”

Mike didn't have to look at Anders to hear the shit-eating grin he was wearing. “Yes?”

“You have three seconds to start running.”

If the other gods walked in a few minutes later to a couple barstools knocked over and the two of them tussling on the floor… no one really needed an explanation.

(Or wanted one. No one wanted to get in the middle of that — or find out what they had done to start it.)

----------

Of course, even that didn't stop Anders' plan, as he tried once more — this time from Mike's couch upstairs, rather than at the bar.

“Guess what?”

Mike responded without missing a beat. “No, I’m not playing this game, Anders.”

And he really wasn’t intending to. Nothing said he had to agree to play, and guessing games took two participants to work.

The unfortunate thing was, as much as his mortal half didn't want to give Anders the satisfaction... resisting the will of his godly half was another story. From the insistent nudging at the back of his mind, he figured he could get a headache from Ullr, or a headache from Anders.

The choice was easier than it should have been, really.

Bracing himself for the impending disaster, he huffed. “Goddamnit.”

I was wondering how long this thing would last since you just have to guess what I’m thinking but that doesn’t have a limit on how long that guess is going to be—

It turned out that if Anders didn’t need to breathe, he really could talk forever. Mike would be impressed, if he had any room to think over the constant stream of sound now in his mind.

—so if it’s all one thing to guess I just have to not take a break and keep talking blah blah blah—

"Will you shut up?!"

—absolutely not I'm nowhere near done Mikkel did you really think I'd stop talking this quickly you've known me too long for that—

"Oh my god, stop—"

—that won't stop me I can keep thinking even if you try and interrupt me haha I can go on forever—

With a groan, Mike blindly reached for the whiskey bottle across the table. He thought he'd been done with Anders tiring himself out by talking decades ago.

("God, my head fucking hurts," Anders muttered a good bit of time later, rubbing his temples.

Mike, who was doing the same with one hand and a glass in the other, leveled Anders with a blank stare. "I feel absolutely no sympathy for you.")

----------

Mike had — rather mistakenly — assumed it would be a quiet night in for him. That is, until a seemingly innocuous text flashed across his phone screen.

> Guess what?

"Great." He'd never had someone try it over text, but if that curious tingle in the back of his brain said anything, Anders had figured out yet another way to exploit it. He opened the messaging app, ready to chastise Anders for abusing his power yet again, when—

Ty and I are headed your way; situation happened with Loki. We'll explain when we get there.

Mike's heart dropped. Loki never meant good news, and if Anders was willing to admit that himself—

> Guess what?

We're fine. Loki just crossed some lines he shouldn't have. It's taken care of.

A breath he didn’t realize he was holding suddenly escaped him. They were alright — somehow, if Loki was involved yet again. He could bitch them out about it once they got to the bar. They weren't burnt to a crisp, or spontaneously combusted, or smited, so he could still chew them out.

(It was a horrible, relieving thought.)

Sitting down less steadily than he'd ever admit, he closed his eyes, breathing out as he let Ullr wash over him.

He could feel them approaching the bar — they were nearby. And still alive. He could handle the rest when they got here.

> Guess what?

Oh yeah, and Ty is Hodr again. Surprise.

...Probably.

----------

The world was ending, or damn near close to it, and by morning, none of them would be gods anymore.

It was a weird feeling. Mike had been a god for as nearly as long as he hadn’t been one, now.

Michele had stepped away for a moment, leaving Mike and Anders in an uncommon shared quiet, sitting back and observing the bustle of the casino around them.

"Guess what?"

Mike turned his head at Anders' sudden question, barely murmured above the background din of the room. He prepared himself for some quip, but instead—

It was the first time Mike had gotten more of a feeling that a coherent thought, and it was nearly overwhelming. A combination of thankful-relieved-peaceful-happy washed over him, and for a moment, he was at a loss for words.

(For a split second, it was as if a much younger Anders was superimposed over the one sitting in front of him, smiling and carefree before everything had gone to hell.)

He couldn’t send the feeling back, not in the same way, but he hoped his own smile and the light knocking of their shoulders together got the point across.

(He thought it did, from the way Anders leaned ever so slightly into him, even as Michele returned.

And of everything he was going to miss come the next morning, that would certainly be one of them.)

----------

"Guess what?"

Mike didn't have to answer Anders. He really didn't, this time; there was no pull from the now-gone Ullr, and even if he did, it wasn't as if it'd work the same way.

Maybe it was the lack of sleep from the night before, or maybe it was simply not giving a fuck in comparison to all the shit they'd been through recently. (Or maybe he knew he'd miss it if he didn't.)

Regardless, Mike turned around, an eyebrow raised as he finally answered Anders' question. “What, Anders?”

(“Nothing!”

“What?”

“Nothing! That was it.”

“You can’t just ask me what and then say nothing!”

“I sure can if it bothers you that much—“

Anders’ bright laughter was audible even over his own groaning into his hands, and if he cracked a smile of his own— well, no one would ever know. They couldn’t guess it, after all.)

#the almighty johnsons #anders johnson #mike johnson #mikkel johnson #ao3 #anders & mike #5+1 things #cb writes

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personne-writes · 1 year

Text

Dad material

Part 6 - Reading level

(word count: 2k)

--------

Michelangelo hasn’t learnt to read the traditional way, what with being a mutant turtle growing up in the sewers and everything.

Of course, reading is something Splinter has taught them, along with many other basic skills. Not as soon as humans or Yokais do, maybe. And probably not as thoroughly as to understand the complex mechanisms of linguistics or to write academic papers. Still fast and good enough for them to be able to keep up with their cherished comics over their teenage years, though - and to never fall behind with charts and reports now.

Michelangelo wouldn’t say his reading skills are lacking in any way, but he’ll admit that when it comes to knowing what a normal kid’s learning curve should look like, he doesn’t really have any timeframe to rely on.

So, he doesn’t know if it’s normal for an eleven-years-old boy born in the midst of an apocalypse to be reading The Fellowship of the Ring.

He doesn’t know, but when he sees Casey Junior frowning down on the voluminous novel, he can’t help but think it feels a little much.

“Hey, Leo," he starts as he plops into a seat next to his brother in the conference room, "quick question. Do you know who the English language teacher is?”

“What?” Leonardo mutters, not looking up from the schematics he's studying.

Mikey drops his chin into his hands, elbows braced on the table. “You know, at the kids’ school. Who’s the teacher?”

“Why?” his brother asks absentmindedly.

“Because I think they might be asking kids to read stuff way above their level.”

Leonardo probably reaches the conclusion that he can't navigate this conversation while focusing on his plans, because he drops them on the table and turns to him. “Mikey. What are you talking about?”

Mikey shifts in his seat. "I just saw Junior reading this big ass book, and it bugged me because I can't remember him reading anything other than comics, right? So I asked him what it was, and it's the fucking Fellowship of the Ring. Can you believe that?"

Leo blinks. “How… is that a problem?”

“The Lord of the Rings, Leo!" Mikey huffs, throwing his hands in the air. "It’s like, a trillion pages long, and it’s so boring at first, what were they even thinking? I tried to read it and couldn’t make it past page 50, and by then I was fifteen and I was a total fan of the movies already -"

"Casey's seen the movies, too," Leo informs him, expression slightly confused.

Mikey gives a dramatic sigh.

"My point is, starting off with this? At eleven?? That’s just gonna discourage the kids. Teaching is all about giving them the will to read. What twisted, sadistic teacher would pick the freaking Lord of the Rings as a child's first real book?"

Leonardo blinks at him again.

And then again.

The absence of an answer is telling Mikey all he needs to know half a second before Leo's face splits up with a big, doofus smile.

"I'm the one who gave him the book," he states, not sounding one bit sorry.

Michelangelo stares at him, speechless, and that’s not something that happens often.

Leonardo gives a quiet laugh. "As much as I find your lecture captivating, little brother, it's not that bad," he assures, putting his hands up like a peace offering. "The kid's clever, I'm sure he won't let himself be intimidated by a simple book. Besides, it's not like he has to read it, or anything - well, I’m glad that he does, but - Mike, you good, hermano?"

Michelangelo tries to get a grip. It’s only half a success. “You could make him disgusted about reading forever,” he accuses.

Leonardo rolls his eyes. “Come on, give me some credit. Like I said, I'm not forcing him to do anything. I won’t pressure him into reading something he doesn’t like. You know me, right?"

That is a valid argument, Mikey has to admit. He still doesn’t feel too comfortable with taking that risk, though. “Hmm.”

“Aw, don’t make that face,” Leonardo cheers him up, grabbing his shoulder affectuously. “Give it some time, okay? Let him try. And if you still feel like it’s a bad idea in, what, a week? Then we’ll talk about it.”

Ah, making a deal without actually promising anything that might make him a disservice. Such a classic Leon move.

Michelangelo sighs and nods. What choice does he have, either way?

--------

It doesn't take a week for Michelangelo to understand he has lost this battle.

There are multiple signs throughout the next few days - Junior hiding in a corner to read peacefully more often than not, body relaxed, expression focused; Junior dozing off when bored, gaze wandering around like he sees things with new eyes; Junior humming the Lord of the Rings movies' theme songs here and there when doing chores. Could fool anybody else, but Mikey knows what having an hyperfixation looks like.

He's so happy for the kid.

That's something he himself hasn't felt in a very long time, the thrill of discovering a story so captivating it takes you away from your day to day life, the delight of forgetting your worries and troubles into something bigger, smoother, more coherently crafted than reality. It's a comforting feeling, and he's happy Junior is getting the chance to experience it, even with all this chaos he is growing up in - even more so.

"Well, well, well, would you look at that," Leonardo starts, coming to a stop next to Michelangelo as he's watching Junior animatedly explain some piece of lore to a poor kid who doesn't look all that interested. "Seems like it's Casey who's doing the traumatizing, after all."

Mikey snorts. "Yeah, alright, that's a win for you."

"What was that? Sorry, Mikey, I don't speak loser," Leo pushes.

Mikey elbows him goodnaturedly. "Hey, I'm saying you're right, that's like, the only thing you'd understand no matter the language."

"Damn right!" Leo smirks, and leaves it at that. Mikey should probably be surprised he isn't bragging about it more, but the way his brother looks at Casey Junior tells him his mind isn't completely focused on the conversation.

He gets it. If he's being honest with himself, Mikey knows he sometimes has that look, too.

He glances back and forth between Casey Junior still infodumping on his poor friend, and Leonardo proudly watching over his protégé. The positive energy radiating from them is enough that he resolves to bring Junior new books, too, each time he has the opportunity.

And so he does for the next few weeks.

Between the novels Leonardo brings back from scouting missions and the books Michelangelo manages to get from people owing him favors, Casey Junior slowly but surely builds his own personal library, safely stored in a carton under his bed.

The kid reads about anything they can find. He beams each time he receives something new, and by the time they get to ask him about the latest addition to the collection, he's already read it two times at least.

So it really shouldn’t come as a surprise that one day, Casey Senior comes for their throats.

“BLUE TURTLE!”

Michelangelo and Leonardo are in the middle of the morning report with a few scouts. The authority in Cassandra’s voice has Leonardo’s body go still in a split second.

Mikey raises a brow at him. “I was pretty sure she knew your actual name by now.”

“She only calls me that when she’s pissed,” Leo explains, eyes wide and panicked.

“HAS ANYONE SEEN THE BLUE ONE?” Cassandra’s voice shouts again, and this time, Leonardo springs into motion.

“Meeting adjourned!” he yelps to three very baffled scouting agents before clutching at the collar of Mikey’s cape. “Mike, hermano, you have to hide me -”

“You’re both there! Good.”

Cassandra is standing in the doorway of the briefing room and Michelangelo doesn’t even have to squint to notice the menacing aura that surrounds her.

She is furious.

“Heyyy, Cassie!” his brother tries in his cheesiest voice, an overcompensation for the nervousness tightening his whole body. “How’re we doing today, my gal? You look fabulous! Something new with your hair?”

Cassandra isn’t having his nonsense, and she makes it clear by stomping towards them with steps so heavy Mikey instinctively checks the concrete floor for footprints.

He doesn’t have the slightest idea what’s going on, but it isn’t good.

His mystic powers slowly lift him up into the air.

“Oh, no, neither of you is escaping this,” Cassandra chuckles, low and dark, as she grabs both Mikey’s cloak and Leo’s scarf. Michelangelo is pretty sure she would’ve seized them by the ears, if they’d had any.

By the corner of his eyes, he sees the three scouts leave the room as discreetly as they can.

“Escaping what?” he asks with an apprehensive smile, his toes a few inches above the ground.

“What have you done to my son?”

Leo and Mikey exchange a bewildered look.

“Junior?” Leo immediately presses. “What’s the matter with him?”

“The matter is he’s becoming a nerd!” Cassandra snaps, and Michelangelo flinches. Ah. That was bound to happen, at some point.

“Are you talking about the books?” he asks as gently as he can. “Because if so, I really don’t see how -”

“He isn’t helping with chores anymore!” Casey Senior presses on, her glare sharp enough to make him go quiet. “He’s running off every time he can, hiding out of my sight more often than not, and when he does come out of whatever rabbit hole he’s spent his day into, he speaks about things I don’t know shit about.” Leonardo tries to take a step back, but she just holds onto his scarf tighter. “What. Have you. Done. To my. Son?”

Leonardo hisses, his scarf apparently pressing a little too much into his throat for comfort. “Casey,” he pleads, voice just a little hoarse, “I swear we mean well -”

“Kids gotta be kids, you know?” Mikey advocates. “You were a Lou Jitsu fan when we were teens, remember?”

“Of course I remember!” Cassandra shouts, but she is distracted enough to let go of them, and they both keep their distance, just in case she starts acting aggressive again.

“There you go, then!” Mikey pushes, voice warm and soothing. “Every teenager needs something to keep the imagination busy. Don’t you think Junior needs it even more than we did when we were his age?”

Cassandra sighs, her shoulders slumping. She presses her fingers to her temples. “I know,” she says tiredly, “but I’m under the impression that nothing else interests him anymore. He doesn’t sound as excited about training as he did, and I’m getting worried about his sleep schedule.”

Something drops in Mikey’s stomach, and by the look on his brother’s face, he understands that he doesn’t like what he’s hearing, either. “Oh,” Leonardo says cautiously. “Well, no need to fret about his training, because he’s going as hard at it as he always has, but, uh…”

“But we could talk to him about not reading too late at night,” Mikey provides.

“Yeah. That.”

With a half-smile, Casey Senior looks back up at them. “Mhm. I guess that would work better coming from you than it does coming from me.”

Leonardo huffs a laugh. “Cool uncles’ privilege, am I right?”

“It’s just a phase, you know,” Mikey adds. “He probably won’t be that much into reading for very long.”

“I wouldn’t bet food on that,” Cassandra grimaces, but there isn’t any more bite to it. “This kid is stubborn as hell.”

“Oh, jeez, wonder where that - you know what? It’s so obvious I don’t think I need to say it." Leonardo eyerolls at her with a smile before getting serious again. “I’m sorry, Cassie. For getting you worried.”

“That much is obvious, too, blue one,” Cassandra says as she bumps her fist into his good shoulder. “No big deal. I mean it. I’m glad you guys get along with him so well.”

She glances back and forth between them, and a rare, soft expression washes over her features.

“He really loves you. Both of you.”

“Awww!” Michelangelo can’t help himself: he brings Cassandra and Leonardo into the tightest of hugs before they can register it. Leo protests a little, Casey protests a lot, but neither actually disengages, and that’s good enough for him.

They don’t stay like this for long, though; Casey is quick to excuse herself and go back to whatever she was doing, Leo straightens himself up and calls the scouts back, and the day starts over again as if nothing had happened at all.

Well, not exactly, Mikey corrects himself as he watches his brother resume the morning report where they had left it. There is a glint in his eyes now, an energy in his movements, an assurance in his voice that wasn’t quite there before. It’s a little amusing to him that the scout agents seem to notice, too.

It’s a little funny, getting to witness the way Leonardo’s serious leader image in the Resistance is slowly being tinted by his mushy side.

If anything, Michelangelo thinks it’s only doing him good.

How long will it take before Leo realizes he’s acting like a proud dad, though?

--------

Dad Material is a collab with @leosmasktails 💙

Beginning - Previous - Next

Sooo what started as Tails doing a comic where Casey Jr bitches about the eagles in the Return of the King movie is now a collab about Leonardo becoming a surrogate father figure and getting lots of Dad Feels. Life is crazy y'all ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Comics are from @leosmasktails, ficlets are from me, and there's more on the way, lads, so stay tuned!

Oversight: 1 (comic) - 2 (comic & ficlet) - 3 (comic) - 4 (comic) - 5 (comic) - 6 (you're here) - 7 (next)

#dad material #collab #writing #leosmasktails #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #save rottmnt #unpause rottmnt #rise of the tmnt

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