#Because Been There Done That. He wouldn't want Mikes to go through it too

[futureman]

don't wanna leave this play date

pairing: mike schmidt x f!reader

summary: you and mike find a way to make a boring shift at freddy's a little more interesting

warnings: 18+ MDNI, coworker!reader, smut, pwp, overstimulation, edging, blowjob, extremely rough oral, throatpie, fwb

word count: 1.9k

(based on these two requests, tysm for sending them in!)

"Thank you. God, thank you so fucking much."

You can't respond to him with your mouth as full as it is, but he picks up the acknowledgment in your next extra-hard suck. He probably wouldn't have heard you anyway, not with how loud he's gotten over the last half hour.

Should you both be working right now? Yes. Could something go terribly wrong because you're too busy blowing your coworker to watch the security monitors? Oh, absolutely.

But when his curly mop of hair appeared at the edge of the doorway midway through your shift, you knew you'd end up doing whatever he asked you to. It might just be your fatal flaw—you can never say no to Mike Schmidt.

He buries his fingers in your hair, tensing but not tugging, as you steadily work him the way you know he likes. He's surprisingly gentle for someone so eager to get his cock in your mouth every night, but you figure there's not much else to do during a midnight to 6 a.m. security gig at a closed-down pizzeria no one gives a shit about anymore.

Plus, you like doing it. You like him. It's cute how unashamed and unapologetic he is about how badly he wants you, and he makes you feel so good, you've never even thought about turning him down.

Even on nights when he just needs a quick release to ease the boredom or relax him enough to squeeze in a nap, just the taste and weight of him on your tongue has you soaking right through your panties. And he always makes it up to you.

But you're bored tonight, too. With three hours left to go, you'd been sitting in your shitty folding chair wondering how the hell you were going to stay awake and pass the time when Mike offered you an enticing solution. Except, you're still feeling antsy, and you don't want this to be over as fast as it usually is. Tonight, you want to play a little longer.

You pull off of him with a lewd pop and jerk him off languidly, loosening your grip to stave off his quickly approaching orgasm.

"That feel good?" you ask breathily, inhaling a lungful of air after letting him rut into the inside of your cheek for the past ten minutes. His fingers twitch against your scalp as he nods.

"S'good, feels so good," he slurs, his head tipped back as he bucks off the chair and into your fist.

"You want more?" You start to twist your wrist whenever you get close to the tip, and you can see and feel the shudder that wracks through him.

"Yes, god, yes. Please," he pleads, just short of begging.

"More what?" you goad experimentally. It wasn't your intention to make him beg when he walked into your office asking for help, but now you don't want him to stop.

"Y-your mouth," his head lolls forward, and he bites his lip hard at the sight of you licking away the precum streaming from his tip.

"Deeper, can I—," he tries to ask, but you shift to tease the underside of his head, and he chokes out a groan. "Wanna fuck your throat so bad."

"Are you gonna cum if I let you?"

"Fuck, probably," he admits reluctantly.

"Then, pick something else," you give him a teasing smile, a little charmed by his honesty.

Continuing to stroke him, you duck down to press a wet kiss to the base of his cock, then surprise him by sucking one of his balls into your mouth.

"Jesus, fuck," he gasps, leaking more precum that dribbles onto your cheek as you alternate between harder suction and softer swipes of your tongue.

He tastes salty and heady, and you were right. You're wet as fuck and so tempted to shove your other hand down your pants to toy with your clit, but you know he'll do that later. And you're not even close to being done with him yet.

Your grip tightens as you pick up your pace and focus closer to the head, maintaining eye contact that seems like it's setting him off just as much as your mouth or hand. His whole body vibrates with those telltale whimpers, and he finally starts to tug at your hair.

"M'gonna cum. Shit, keep going, I'm gonna cum," he grits out, his chest heaving.

His eyebrows pinch and his lips part, and he looks like he's seconds away from blowing his load all over your face—but then you release him again. You slide your hand under his shirt to stroke his heated skin comfortingly as he squeezes his eyes shut, panting like he just ran a marathon.

"Shit...shit," he keens, and you can feel his abs tensing and relaxing under your palm. His cock jerks pathetically next to your face, and you grip the base to make sure he doesn't accidentally topple over the edge.

"Shit," he whines again frustratedly, half-heartedly trying to pry your fingers off him. "Why?"

You rest your head against his thigh and smile, watching him pout down at you. He really is so cute when he gets fussy like this.

"You really wanna cum that fast? What happened to wanting to fuck my throat?" you tease him, beginning to jerk him off again. He sighs in relief, and his hips jut forward to meet your hand on every downstroke.

"You already said no," he replies dejectedly.

"I said not yet," you correct. "If you give me one more, I'll let you do whatever you want."

He eyes you curiously like he thinks you're baiting him, and you guess in a way you are. By now, he knows you've been edging him on purpose, but he has nothing to lose and everything to gain if he accepts your deal. He knows you'll make him feel good no matter what.

"You can choke me," you continue, slurping messily around the tip. "You can be as rough as you want," you trail your lips down his spit-slick length to the base and lick a wide stripe back up, "and you can cum in my mouth, and I promise I'll swallow all of it."

He's nodding frantically before you can even finish, and his eagerness reminds you of a golden retriever.

"You're gonna be good?" you confirm.

"I'll be good, I'll be so good," he blurts out, his urgency slurring his words again.

"I know you will. Just one more time, I know you can handle it," you encourage him.

Then, you swallow him down without warning. He lets out something guttural and animalistic, both hands tensing to hold you in place, and you let him.

You never planned on making this easy, but you meant what you said. He can handle this. He can handle the tightness of your throat constricting around him, contracting intermittently to mimic how your pussy feels fluttering around him.

Or, at least, you hope he can. You feel his balls draw up dangerously under your chin, and when you peer up through your watery lashes, his eyes are starting to cross. That's not good.

Slowly but steadily, he nudges the back of your throat harder and harder until tears and drool are streaming down your cheeks and chin. He's mumbling incoherent strings of praise and curse words between drawn-out whines, but you can barely hear him over the wet sounds of your own gagging.

"Fuck, that's...good, that's so fucking good," he pants raggedly, picking up his brutal pace. It's like he's lost all control of his body, and all he can do is chase the high you've been denying him all night.

You gurgle around him, grasping his thighs to ground yourself against the force of his thrusts, and briefly contemplate trying to stop him. But it's too late and he's already too close. His face screws up, and then you know it's coming.

"I'm sorry—I'm...fuck, I'm s-sorry, I'm so sorry. I can't—," he whimpers, fucking into his fist, "—m'gonna cum, I'm so close."

Moaning around him in response, you dig your nails into his skin, hoping the unexpected pain distracts him enough to keep him from cumming, but that only makes it worse. So, you let him.

The subtle vibration combined with the sharp bite of your nails sends him reeling. His expression goes completely lax, and then—

"I'm cumming...oh my god—," he all but sobs, burying himself as deep as you can take him.

You struggle to breathe through your nose as he empties down your throat, swallowing as much as you can, but you've been edging him for too long.

Viscous fluid leaks out of the corners of your mouth and down his cock, adding to the wet mess in his lap, and your harsh grasp on his thighs only seems to prolong his orgasm. After what feels like a lifetime, his whimpers taper into soft pants and he starts to rub soothing patterns into your scalp, an apology for his rough treatment.

You blearily meet his eyes, and they're glassy and unfocused, watching you reverently like he can't believe you just let him do something he's only ever seen in porn. And that you actually liked it. Shakily, he reaches out to thumb away the release dribbling down your chin, and you pull off of him briefly to suck it off his finger before returning to his cock.

That's why you do this night after night—that look right there. It's the awe and hunger that linger even after he's already thoroughly blissed out and softening in your grasp.

Except tonight, he's not. Mike is somehow still hard as a rock and thrusting weakly into your mouth, trembling like a leaf now that his aftershocks have subsided and the sensitivity is setting in.

Tentatively, you grip him at the base and swirl your tongue around the tip to gauge his reaction, and when he doesn't push you away, you take him further into your mouth. But on your next hard suck, his lips part and a violent shudder wracks his entire body, so you hesitate and pull off.

"Too much?" you wince, slowly uncurling your fingers from around his cock, but he shakes his head furiously.

"N-no, feels...so much," he says, dazed, his voice scarcely above a whisper. "Feels good. Can you keep going? Please."

His face is screwed up, as tense as the rest of him as he struggles with conflicting feelings of intense pleasure and pain, but he's not fighting it. He's actually enjoying it.

He flinches as you resume your movements, toying under the ridge with the tip of your thumb, and begins to squirm the longer you continue to play with him. A quick glance at the clock tells you there's still an hour and a half left of your shift—that's plenty of time.

In the four nights you've worked here, the security monitors haven't shown a single sign of activity and you doubt they're going to start now. Your gaze drops from his pained, yet hopeful expression to his twitching cock, and you make a decision.

You'll go as long as he wants. After all, you can never say no to Mike Schmidt.

"Mhm, whatever you want," you hum, then sink back onto him. He sighs gratefully, shivering at the sensation and your words, and verbalizes his gratitude repeatedly like a prayer.

"Thank you, thank you."

thanks for reading!

(dividers by @saradika-graphics)

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt #fnaf imagine #fnaf smut #fnaf movie #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #josh hutcherson x reader

[imfinereallyy]

“Dad is going to be very angry,” El says with wide eyes taking in the scene before them.

“You think Hop will kill him?” Steve says as he leans against the doorway, eating a Twizzler.

El looks at Steve momentarily, sticking her hand out for some candy. Steve hands her one without hesitation. El rips a piece off before speaking. “Oh yes. He might ask you to help hide the body.”

Steve nods solemnly, “I’ll do what needs to be done. Mikes’s my least favorite child anyway.”

“Hey!” Mike yells, gaining the duo's attention. It brings them back to the scene they walked in on. Mike and Will, with the door closed (no three inches in sight) on top of each other, making out.

Steve doesn't think he’ll ever get that image out of his brain.

“Chill, Wheeler, I'm joking,” Steve says pointedly before turning to El and mouthing no, I'm not.

El giggles, and Steve can't help but feel like he won a prize at the sound.

“I'm sorry, El.” Will blushes with shame, like he is betraying his sister somehow.

El just shrugs, “I do not care. But Dad might. He hates Mike.”

Steve snorts, “That's the understatement of the century. I don't think Hop has ever hated someone’s partner like he has Mike. Honestly, I was surprised he liked Eddie. I mean like is a strong word. But he tolerates him.”

Will pipes up, “I think he does mostly because he knows you'll move out, and he only just got you to agree to stay here.”

Steve shrugs, “I’ll take what I can get. At least he doesn't walk on me having sex.”

“We weren't having sex!” Mike practically screams. Hands up exasperated. “And don't talk about you and Eddie; it's gross.”

Will blushes deeply with head in his hands, “Oh, God.” El pats him on the shoulder in sympathy.

“Also, this wouldn't have happened if you weren't an idiot and just knocked!” Mike stomps. Jesus, this kid is 15 acting 6.

“I was the one who walked in, Mike. I wanted to know if Will wanted to watch a movie.” El says coldly, getting defensive of her brother.

Mike clams up, Steve can't help but feel smug.

“Who’s having sex?!?” A distinct Hopper-like voice echoes through the house.

Will and Mike share a panicked look while Steve and El take more Twizzlers from the bag.

“Oh no. Mike! What are we going to do?”

Mike sputters, “He doesn't have to know it was us! And we weren't having sex!”

Will looks at him like Mike is the biggest moron he's ever met. Steve loves the kid (despite early protest) but has to agree. “Oh gee Mike, I wonder who he will think it was about. Steve? Who is dating a man who isn't here and keep in mind, it's Steve. Who is our brother, and five years older than us? And in a relationship? And let's not forget..is Steve?!”

“This is fair.” Steve agrees. If anyone but Baby Byers had attempted to say that, Steve would have been pissed. But it's Will, so it's coming from a good place.

“Also! Also! The other person here is El! Who is my sister! Not to mention your ex—”

“—well it could have been—”

“Micheal Steven Wheeler, if the next words out of your mouth are it could have been you and El, I will never be kissing you again.” Will uses a deathly tone. Steve isn't convinced he didn't get from El.

“Your middle name is Steven?” Steve fills giddy.

“Shut up Steve!”

Will pinches his brows, “And you idiot, if it were you and El, you would still he toast.”

Steve whistles, “Shit, Will. Next time I need to win an argument against Eddie. I'm coming to you.”

“How long does it take for dad to get upstairs?” El interrupts.

All of them look down the hall. “Huh, maybe we are in the clear,” Mike whispers.

“I said who is having sex?!?” Hopper comes thundering up the stairs.

“I think this is what Max calls a jinx.” El looks at Mike unphased.

Steve can't help but feel a little bad for Will. He looks panicked around the room, probably looking for a hiding place. Steve knows that it isn't that same fear Will once had of Lenny, Hop wouldn't hurt them ever, but he can't help but feel a little protective of him. Steve knows all too well how the fears of biological fathers can sneak up on you, even if you know you're safe. “Don’t worry, Will. I'll make sure Hop takes it easy.”

Will relaxes, “Thanks Steve.”

“What about me?” Mike asks, eyes wide.

El shares a look with Steve. Spending as much time as they have lately has allowed them to talk without speaking most of the time. It freaks everyone but Robin out (she gets it). Seconds go by before they both nod in agreement.

Steve and El both wip their heads towards Mike, and Steve says, “You were grossed out by my relationship and called me stupid. Suffer.”

Mike's outcry is in synch with Hop breaking through screaming, “There better be three inches!”

#steddie #byler #this is just about Steve and el bonding #steve teaching El the best way to beat mean girls is to be one #eleven hopper #steve Harrington #stranger things #Eddie munson #mike wheeler #will byers #Steve Harrington and El hopper have a sibling relationship #found family #my writing #ficlet #mean girl steve harrington #fluff #fanfiction #jim hopper

[hornedqueenofhell]

Shared Interests Pt. 2

Pt 1

Lucas pats him on the shoulder and grins at him, "You're doing much better Eddie."

"Don't condescend to me Sinclair." Eddie teases back and tickles Lucas's side, "You're the one who told me to do that stupid shoulder touch thing and Steve laughed whenever he looked at me for a week!" Steve may also have done it back to him at one point and made his knees go weak which just isn't fair.

"Wait, so is that why Steve asked if I wanted to learn how to pitch a baseball after we went up to cerebro for my date with Suzie?" Dustin had been confused at the time, wondering if Steve was trying to make him want to be a jock too.

Eddie nods and settles back in his chair, "Aside from the fact that I think he just wants all of you to be more physically active considering how much time we spend running from monsters, yeah."

Oh, Dustin had called it gross and sweaty and wanted to go home before he got a sunburn. And Steve hadn't complained, he ruffled Dustin's hat and told him to wipe his feet before getting in his car.

"Wait, does Steve think I hate him?" Fear bubbled through Dustin's veins, all the times Steve asked if he'd like to go see a movie or visit the library… was he going to lose his friend? 

"Mmmm, I wouldn't go that far per say." At the devastated look on Dustin's face Eddie quickly drops the act, "No Dustin of course he doesn't, Steve loves you dearly. You guys could stand to ease up on calling him stupid or shit like that because that does hurt him, he wouldn't tell you that even on pain of death though."

Lucas and Will share a look at that and Eddie suspects that this isn't the first time that particular subject has been brought up by someone. His money is on El. That little girl loves Steve with every fiber of her being and watching them read or work on El's catch up work together warms Eddie's heart endlessly.

"So we have to do sports stuff now? Because of Steve?" Mike looks like he's swallowed a lemon.

"You realize Steve has other hobbies besides sports right?" Eddie points out, "The guy is literally in school right now learning to do hair professionally because he's so good at it." Case in point baby Byers missing bowl cut and his far less frizzy curls.

"I like that he tells me everything that he's doing because I don't like people standing silently behind me. He does it with El too because she's so worried about her head being shaved again." Will pipes in causing Mike and Dustin to turn to him. "He cooks too, likes to help mom with dinner whenever things go late."

Eddie beams at Will brightly, "Yep, although he's a far better baker. I'm always bringing snacks to band practice now, Gareth would probably fight me to the death to marry Steve himself; his sweet tooth has never been so happy."

"Okay but how is just listening to him talk about hair 'sharing a hobby', that just sounds boring." Mike says, complete with poorly done air quotes. He’s trying to mimic Eddie again but can’t get the motion quite right.

"Mike, if you grew up in a house all alone outside of when the rest of the party came over for d&d or sleepovers how would you feel?"

"Uhh great, no parents fighting, no dealing with Nancy, no having to be the only one taking care of Holly."

"For the first few weeks, sure. But what about when the silence sets in? When you're sitting alone at the dinner table for months, having to make every meal yourself. When a tornado or a storm rolls through and you're sitting in the basement wondering how long it'll take for someone to find your body, if anyone would even care to look. When you're sick and there's no one around to help you make a bowl of soup or bring you water after you threw up again. When there's no one to talk to for days on end because your friends have families and lives outside of you. How much would a conversation about anything, even the most mundane thing ever, mean to you then?"

"That's not-" Eddie cuts him off with a look and Mike hunches his shoulders. Dustin wants to go give Steve a hug right now.

As if hearing his wish the door to the basement opens and Steve walks down the steps, “Hey babe.” He says cheerfully as he presses a kiss to Eddie’s cheek.

“Hello sweetheart, class go okay?” He places his hand over Steve’s on his shoulder.

“Someone messed up the bleaching lesson horribly today, I’ll tell you about it on the way because we will be late if we don’t leave soon and I know how much you enjoy making puns out of the players names.” Also because they get skimpy with the nacho cheese at the concession stand when you’re late.

“Alright, one sec and I’ll finish packing up.” He squeezes Steve’s fingers before letting go to start scooping dice into his bag. As he’s packing his stuff away Dustin bursts out of his chair and wraps his arms around Steve hugging him tightly.

“Hey man, where’s the fire?” He chuckles lightly as he hugs Dustin back, the boy's hat is digging into his chest but he doesn’t mind.

“This weekend, would you like to go to the library? We can go read comics or something.”

Steve smiles brighter than the sun as he squeezes Dustin tighter, “Yeah Dust, that sounds great!”

“I love you Steve.” He says softly into the older boy's chest. Steve’s not sure what brought this on, maybe Eddie did something in the campaign that scared them? He’d ask later.

“Love you too kiddo, get home safe and tell your mom hi for me.” He taps the brim of Dustin’s hat fondly before letting him go and taking a step back when Eddie places a hand on his shoulder.

“Ready love?”

Steve nods and folds his arm around Eddie’s waist, he had to get his clingy affection in now before they had to pretend to be just friends at the game.

“Alright we’re off kids, ponder the lessons you have received today and prepare for combat next time.” Eddie calls over his shoulder as he and Steve head out of the basement.

#stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #dustin henderson #will byers #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair

[steddieas-shegoes]

Hi! This may be a dumb idea, so feel free to ignore it.

I am a firm believer that Steve would have a flinch response of some kind to the word bullshit because of Nancy and would love to see him work through it? And all I can think of is the card game? So if someone (Eddie) had noticed his reactions to the word and tried to help him through it by having the gang play the game that would be cool? Especially if Eddie noticed pre-relationship, helps Steve through it, Steve figured out what he was doing, and by the end they’re together?

Once again, if this idea is dumb you can ignore it, I won’t be offended!

:)

THANK YOU FOR THIS!!! I kind of changed it up a bit because I didn't really think Steve would be super comfortable with everyone being involved because none of those kids know how to just let shit go and he wouldn't want them to look at or treat Nancy any differently. I did have to google the game because it's been a solid 10 years since I've played and I was probably not sober when I did 😂 Hope you like what I did here and will send more requests if you haven't already! - Mickala ❤️

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He’d gotten over it. He told himself he was over it. He convinced himself he was over it.

But he heard Nancy tell Mike it was bullshit that she always had to cover for him with their parents when he stayed out past curfew, and it was like she was spitting it in his face instead.

He visibly recoiled, the air in his lungs suddenly rushing out of his nose.

Nobody noticed, but it took him a minute to catch his breath, to focus back on the fact that Nancy wasn’t talking to him, wasn’t calling him bullshit.

—--

But then bullshit became Dustin’s favorite word and Steve didn’t know what to do about it.

He jokingly started saying “language” every time he said it, but Dustin was a stubborn kid, and Steve was too in his head to actually commit to getting him to stop.

He threw it around like it was nothing, and to him, it was nothing. He hadn’t had someone he loved call him bullshit.

He started to find reasons to avoid giving him rides. He would pick up extra shifts, pretend he fell asleep early, say he had a migraine. It all worked.

But he didn’t notice how Eddie started to get suspicious that he was now Dustin’s ride to everything, that Dustin was starting to worry that he’d done something to upset Steve, that Steve was ignoring everyone.

Eddie knew he had to talk to Steve alone, maybe get high with him so his defenses were down a bit, and find out what the hell was going on.

But Steve was good at this, avoiding people.

He was never completely alone at work, always a coworker or customer keeping him too busy to talk. He never answered his house phone anymore, and even though they all knew he was listening for the radio, he ignored that too. Eddie tried just showing up at his house at random times when he knew he wasn’t working, but he either wasn’t home or was doing a great job of pretending to be asleep.

Until he got lucky and caught him as he was walking out the door one morning, probably not expecting anyone to be awake this early and standing in his driveway.

Steve startled, but pasted on that fake smile that Eddie hated.

“Hey, Eds. Didn’t know you were stopping by. Everything okay?”

“I dunno, Stevie. Is everything good?”

Steve gulped.

“Everything’s fine.”

“That’s good. I just figured I’d check since you practically went invisible on us for the last three weeks. Dustin’s considered sending Hopper for a wellness check.”

“Oh. I’m fine. Just busy, ya know?”

Eddie searched his face, already knowing he was lying.

“That’s bullshit, Steve.”

He watched as Steve curled into himself, probably not even realizing he was doing it, and confirming at least some of Eddie’s suspicions.

“What’s going on with you?”

Eddie wasn’t leaving until he had answers and he certainly wasn’t about to let Steve hide away.

The kids missed him, Robin missed him, Eddie missed him.

Steve looked like he was fighting back tears when he looked back up at Eddie.

“I’m sorry I’m bullshit, it’s all bullshit, and I can’t make it better, make me better.”

“What? Stevie, you’re not making any sense.”

“I keep messing everything up. Even when I try to be better, to be good, it doesn’t fucking matter because I’m still bullshit..”

And now he was crying.

Shit. What the hell?

Eddie didn’t waste any time, stepping into Steve’s space and wrapping his arms around him, pulling him into his chest and making sure he had a safe place to cry.

He got the idea that Steve had probably never had a safe place to cry before.

He slowly walked them back into the house, frowning further when he realized the front door wasn’t even locked. Was Steve actually leaving his house unlocked? After everything they’d been through, he guessed maybe a regular old robber was the least of his worries, but still.

He managed to get to the couch in the living room, slowly sitting down and pulling Steve down next to him.

Steve wasn’t crying anymore, or at least he was being much quieter, his tears soaking the shoulder of Eddie’s shirt so much it was hard to tell if more was being added.

“Stevie? You’re not bullshit.” He felt Steve flinch against him, but continued. “I’m not sure who told you that you were, but you can’t let that control you so much. You’re the best guy I’ve ever met besides Wayne and I’m still thinking he’s just the Patron Saint of Patience.”

Steve let out a small snort of laughter and Eddie considered that a win.

But his brain was still going 90 miles a minute, thoughts running laps in his head as he thought about something Robin told him a few months ago.

She didn’t tell him any details, would never betray Steve’s trust like that, but she’d mentioned that any chance of Steve getting back with Nancy had been left in the bathroom of Tina’s party.

Eddie, despite what most people thought, was pretty intelligent. He could usually connect dots even when the lines between were spiraling to other dots as a distraction.

So this particular line between what Robin said, and what Steve was saying now about how he was bullshit, suddenly connected in his mind.

“Did Nancy say that to you?”

Steve pulled away, face suddenly blank.

“It wouldn’t matter who said it if they’re right.”

“I can’t believe I thought you were still in love with her this whole time.”

“What? No. I haven’t been in love with her in years.”

“Why are you even still friends? She really said that to you?”

“We’ve moved on. We were both going through a lot and she didn’t mean it.”

“I hate to say it, Stevie, but it doesn’t seem like you’ve moved on at all.”

“What do you mean?”

Eddie watched as Steve tried to work it out on his own. Eddie loved the face he made when he was confused. He loved every face Steve made.

Snap out of it, Munson.

“Well, if hearing it in passing upsets you so much that you avoid your entire family for weeks, you aren’t over it.”

He let that sink in, watching as Steve’s face went through all the stages of grief in less than a minute.

“I’m not avoiding everyone.”

“Steve, you are. And I’m sure everyone will understand if you just explain.”

“I’m not doing that.”

“Okay, then you can just say you had a busy few weeks and now you’re not.”

“Dustin says it a lot.”

“Says what?”

Eddie knew, but he needed Steve to say it. He needed him to stop associating that word with himself.

“Why are you gonna make me say it?”

“Because you need to stop thinking it’s an adjective that describes you. You’re the farthest thing from bullshit.”

Steve flinched again, but recovered quickly.

How long had this been happening that no one noticed? How long had Eddie not noticed?

“Alright! I have an idea.” Eddie got up and went to the closet in the hall that held all the stuff for when the kids came over. Movies, tapes and records, extra blankets and pillows, changes of clothes, books, school supplies, cards. Eddie grabbed the closest deck of cards and walked back to the couch. “We’re gonna call Robin and we’re gonna play a game.”

“What game?”

“Bullshit.”

Another flinch.

God, Eddie felt so stupid for not noticing this sooner, not putting the pieces together earlier.

“How will that help?”

“Because you’re going to hear the word so much, and we’re going to have so much fun, that you won’t be able to think negatively about it anymore.”

“And if it doesn’t work?”

That was a possibility. It could end up making things worse, causing more stress for Steve. But if there was anything he learned from his months of therapy, it was that exposure to something negative enough would leave you feeling indifferent to it eventually.

“If it doesn’t work, you can push me into the pool with all my clothes on in the middle of winter. Deal?”

“Fine.”

They shook on it, Eddie letting his hand linger for a bit too long in Steve’s, only letting go when Steve raised his brows at him.

Eddie called Robin, who was not thrilled about having to get out of bed on a Saturday before ten, but did it anyway when Eddie explained what it was for.

She’d finally gotten her license two months ago and her mom let her use her car on weekends, so she promised to leave as soon as she was dressed.

Eddie immediately called Dustin, just to let him know Hellfire was off for the day and to tell everyone. Dustin threw a fit, said it was bullshit, said he can’t just cancel with no intention of rescheduling, and Eddie hung up on him.

He’d have a conversation with him later.

Steve had gone upstairs to change, said he wanted to be comfortable for this and his jeans and polo weren’t really lounging around clothes.

So Eddie waited for Robin, and he waited for Steve to come back downstairs, and he thought about how much he hated Nancy Wheeler in that moment.

He’d gotten close to her when he was trying to graduate. She helped him study so he could pass the finals he needed to, even without being able to be in class because of being stuck in the hospital for so long. He helped her pack for college, offering up his van as a thank you for all she’d done to help him. He called to talk with her weekly.

All this time, she was at least some of the reason that Steve had negative feelings about himself.

Sure, Eddie could guess that his parents had a lot to do with it too, but this was somehow worse.

He’d trusted Nancy.

Steve came down just as Robin was walking in the front door, bag of chips in hand.

“It’s nine in the morning. I can cook breakfast,” Steve said to her.

“Nah, chips are a necessary staple for card games no matter the time.”

No one argued with her as they sat around the kitchen table.

Eddie dealt the cards out, explaining the rules as he went, though they all had played before. He added a rule though.

“Every time someone calls bullshit on Steve, we have to say one thing that we like about him. Good with you, Robbie?”

Robin smirked. “Perfect.”

Steve didn’t argue, probably because he knew he wouldn’t win against them, so they got started.

The first round went pretty smoothly. Steve ended up never having to lie, and nobody called bullshit on him. He barely flinched when Robin called it on Eddie the first two times, and didn’t at all the third time.

But the second round started and Steve was not having any luck. He got away with his first lie, but he knew Robin could tell he got away with it and she wouldn’t be going easy on him next time.

Next time happened to be his next turn.

He placed down the card that should’ve been an 8, but was actually a Jack. He confidently said 8. Or thought he did.

“BULLSHIT!”

He felt his hands shaking, but he did his best to ignore it as he turned the card over to show she was right.

It was bullshit.

“I love that you always try to show interest in what we all like even if you don’t really like it. Like when El started crocheting and nobody would help her understand the instructions, but you sat with her for hours while she worked it out and helped read the instructions to her when she had her hands busy.”

Eddie was smiling and nodding along like he agreed.

“That’s just what friends do.”

“Maybe. But none of her other friends were doing it, were they?”

Yeah, okay. Steve nodded and they moved on.

But his luck was long gone now, and his next card had to be a lie too.

“Bullshit.” This time Eddie called it.

Steve was doing his best not to cry, but something about hearing that pointed at him from Eddie made him feel worse.

“I love that you always hug the kids. Saying hello, saying goodbye, when you’re proud of them. You aren’t afraid to show them affection.”

Eddie was giving him a fond smile, but Steve couldn’t do anything except nod.

He couldn’t say that Eddie’s plan was really working, but maybe he needed to give it more time.

He made it through the rest of that round fine, not having to lie again, and only having to call bullshit on Robin once.

But their next round seemed to turn into them calling it on him every turn, regardless of if they thought he was lying or not.

“The way you make us all feel important.”

“Your laugh is contagious and it’s fun to see how easily it spreads through the group when you get started.”

“You always have dinner for us when we come over, and it’s always so good. Like you’ve spent the whole day making sure it’s perfect and you want us to enjoy it.”

“You never let us face anything alone. We can always rely on you to be there in whatever way we need the second we need you. No questions asked.”

Steve still flinched every time they called bullshit, but it was getting easier to move on from it and hear their compliments.

Finally, on Steve’s last turn, Eddie called it on him.

He watched as Eddie glanced over at Robin, then back at Steve, blush coloring his cheeks.

“I love that you hold my hand when we’re smoking outside because you know it helps me stay grounded and not get lost in my thoughts too much. I love that if I fall asleep on the couch, you cover me with a blanket and lay down next to me so I don’t wake up alone. I love that you always pack an extra cookie in your lunchbox just in case I visit you at work. I love that you put your entire reputation on the line to make sure I got the best care a person can have in the hospital, and even after with the physical therapy and regular brain therapy. I love that you keep finding ways to show me that sometimes popular and mainstream things are okay.” Eddie gave him a more confident smile. “I love everything about you.”

“That was more than one,” Steve said breathlessly.

“Yeah, hard to pick just one thing when I love you this much.”

“What?”

Steve was so confused. Eddie had been nice saying the things he did before, but this? There was no way he meant it.

Not the way Steve was hoping he did.

“Can you two just kiss before I puke?” Robin complained.

Eddie looked at him, a surprisingly calm smile on his face.

“Only if Stevie wants me to.”

“Mhm. Yes. Please do that,” Steve rushed out, not sure what the hell was happening, but not wanting to wait for it to change.

Eddie was up from his seat and kneeling in front of Steve in seconds, one hand on his knee and one on his cheek.

Steve wasn’t breathing. He was barely even able to focus on Eddie on his knees in front of him.

Eddie leaned in slowly, giving Steve a chance to back away if he wanted to.

But he didn’t want to.

He wanted to feel Eddie’s lips on his more than anything.

And he did.

They were surprisingly soft, but firm and demanding, making sure Steve followed him instead of the other way around.

He could distantly hear Robin eating chips, but didn’t bother to tune in to whatever she was complaining about, just enjoying the sensation of having Eddie’s lips and hands on him.

It did end though.

“You know what’s bullshit?” Steve asked.

Eddie’s eyes widened in question.

“The fact that we have to stop kissing.”

Eddie let out a loud laugh and leaned in to kiss him again.

“You know what’s bullshit to me?”

“Hm?”

“That you ever thought for one second that you weren’t amazing.”

Steve blushed, but looked at the way Eddie was looking at him.

Like he loved him. For real. No bullshit.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #robin buckley #platonic stobin #dustin henderson #nancy wheeler was a mean drunk one time and steve genuinely let the hate for himself flow through him #incredible work he did there #this is about healing #sort of exposure therapy? but not by a professional lmao #although eddie IS kind of a professional when it comes to steve #they kiss about it #anon requests #requests

[pinksmonkey]

Bylers Are Quite Literate

A Reddit post I made discussing Bylers and media literacy.

Unfortunately my post was removed for being reported too much, even though it wasn't against the rules in any way. I messaged the mods, but I don't know if it'll be put back up, so here's what it said:

I just want to make clear that I mean no hate to Milevens or people who don't ship Byler, I completely respect that people can ship whatever they want and I hope I would receive that same respect in return. There are lots of very smart people who don't ship Byler, and there are lots of smart Milevens. I just want to bring attention to the fact that believing in Byler is not delusional, ridiculous, stupid, or the many other things we're called. Many Bylers are very literate, probably not all of them, but lots.

A lot of Bylers actually have great media literacy, many are film students, writers themselves, or do media analyses often.

This post will specifically be about Mike's monologue to El in S4.

One of my all time favourite analyses (and the best) of the monologue is "'Prove it' I Beg You Read This." by oceanfruit444 on Tumblr.

Unfortunately the post is no longer available because the account which made it was deactivated, but I took screenshots before and will copy and paste the text here:

So, the Duffer Brothers write very complex and, usually, well done characters. They give us a trait or statement and then they prove it. As a writer, you can never just have a character say "I'm lying right now' to the screen, that would be...ridiculous Imao.

"I wrote a post not to long ago about my writing process, or the writing process in general. One of the things I spoke on was the concept of 'proving it'. I want to talk a little more about that and how that applies to one Michael Wheeler.

Of course, we see the scene in season 4 where Will Is giving Mike his painting and using it to help mend Mike and El's relationship. We see it continuously, even though we know he's in love with Mike, Will coaches him through his problems, gives him advice, etc. We see it in season 2 as well just with Joyce mentioning Will giving away his toy to another little girl who looked sad. That was kind of the time they stated this trait Will had, and then continued to prove it for the next two seasons. So when we say Will is selfless, we have evidence to back up that claim.

With proving it, that is your job as a writer. It works with situations, but mostly comes into play with characters. For example: you give your audience a trait, Will is selfless. How does he prove that and how do other characters give us clues of this trait?

Now discussing scenes with 'proving it', season 4 is very interesting because it's not as subtle as we may think it is. In the van, we see Mike recalling the first time he saw El and explaining that moment.

"It was dumb luck, not fate."

Then we go to his confession, "I knew since the moment I saw you that I loved you."

That moment felt cringy, but also, there has been no proof for this. There's actually proof combating his claim. That whole monologue was Mike looking into the camera and saying "I'm lying right now." The writers of this show are aware of that, because they continuously make sure to prove things, because that's how you create deep moments and detailed characters. If you have a character just spew things out without depth behind their words, it's not going to create a furthering and complex relationship. I mean, it's not even in writing, if your partner said, "I love you" and then proceeded to, metaphorically, spit in your face, you wouldn't believe that because you know it's not true.

Throughout season 4, Mike can't say I love you to El, he gaslights her, he calls her superman and that meeting her was an accident. He doesn't prove anything that is said in the monologue, and the writers know that, they want people to pick up on it.

'I'm not scared of you'

Mike proves the opposite of that in rink-o-mania. He was scared of her, and El proves that to us by saying you think I'm a monster too.

'My life started the day I met you.'

That just doesn't make sense because he literally tries to jump off a cliff. Apparently his life didn't need to last more than a day.

The love confession, from a writer's stance, cannot be evidence for a solidified relationship. Mike and El had not been together since their big fight. So, as we know. the feelings Mike was responding to weren't El's, they were Will's.

So then you get into another conversation of, was the love confession for El in the first place? Because in both Will's and Mike's confessions, El is the center of it, the middle piece. The writers could be trying to tell us many different things with that. They both give confessions, so are they attempting to allude to the fact that Mike and Will are both doing the same thing?

People are desperate for answers, it's a worldwide trait, so we ask many questions and we are supposed to when it comes to consuming media or any kind of storytelling. Why does he love her? Wait that doesn't make sense, why didn't he just say it in the first place? Why didn't he say it when El was begging him to? Why does he feel like it's a fight they can't come back from if all he has to say is 'I love you'? If he loved her, it should have been easy right? Why did I just waste hours of my life for a plot point that doesn't make sense? Mike said he loved El already, we've already been through this same exact plot, so why is it happening again?

So, what I'm saying is Mike is disproving his points by previous actions. The monologue feels off because as watchers we are subconsciously or, some of us, consciously aware that we were not given evidence for what the character is saying. And we don't like that.

And then, when we get verbal answers, they don't line up or make any sense.

Why? Why? Why?

So, what bylers have right is that Mike is a fake thing (character), he doesn't just get to vibe in his own head and hang out. He has to prove things to us, if he wants to say I love you? Prove it with details we can back up. You want to tell us you love El on her bad days? You're lying to us now because we saw that point disproven.

These characters have very specific jobs and arcs, they're doing things for a bigger reason, not just...cause. I don't think that's easy for many people to grasp onto. So questions writers ask themselves when there's a scene is, what does this scene mean to each character involved, and how can we make that sub textually known?" "Who is this scene for? and how will it farther their arcs'

So, what does the love monologue mean for El? And how will it farther her arc or finish part of her arc? As we know, she wanted Mike to say I love you, Mike needed to say it for that plot point to finally close. But what is the after math.

Now, what *can* Mike's monologue hold truth to? A lot of what he's saying can be backed up if he's speaking to a different person.

Will.

I loved you since the moment I saw you. We can back that up from evidence, Mike made the choice to walk up to Will on the swing sets and ask to be his friend. Little Mike knew that he wanted Will in his life and that he was something special. So we have a check mark there. It was a choice, loving someone will always, somewhat, be a choice.

I'm not scared of you, I never have been. We can back that up as well. Will was possessed by the Mind Flayer and Mike stayed right by Will's side, walking into that shed with a boy that had sent many people to their death. He stayed next to Will's side, alone, when he knew he could be dangerous or even had no idea what he was capable of.

I love you on your good and bad days. Once again, we see that proven. In season 3 Will yells at Mike, is upset and they fight. What Mike does is very important, he goes after Will because no matter what Will said that might have hurt or how distressed Will seemed to be, he still went after him, because he cared about him. In season 2 when they leave Halloween we see it again, Will was having a bad day and Mike sat right there with him, making him feel better.

I love you. I mean, Mike has proven that over and over again. Now, that could be used for both of them, but the interesting point in season 4 is the big discussion on his issue with saying 'I love you' to El. So, something isn't lining up. Again, from a writers POV, Mike doesn't get to say that to El because you are not allowed to expect your watchers to come up with proven points to that on their own. We have to look at the context of that line and find it IN THE SAME SEASON AND PLOT LINE.

I love you. How does Mike prove that to us in season 4? And if you do not have textual evidence as well as actions to back it up, then you're not supposed to have those things. Your job as a reader or watcher is not to do the work for yourself, the writers will tell you all you need to know, if you can't find it, then they're telling you everything you need to know.

Who does that apply to? Will.

I thought that saying it might make it hurt more. This is disproven by Mike's actions with El, he begins to lose her because he isn't saying I love you. So why would him telling her 'I love you' make her leaving hurt more if she didn't plan on leaving until you didn't day it? Lie lie lie. That is thrown in our faces time and time again. He wasn't losing El until he was unable to tell her or write he loves her.

I don't know, I feel like I lost you or something. Mike says the word 'lost twice in season 4 to two different people, or was it two different people?

Mike isn't afraid of losing El, he's afraid of losing Will, and we have evidence of that because he said those exact words. As I said moments ago, the writers will directly tell you things to allow you to prove spoken points made. If you CANNOT back up a claim, they don't want you to.

If something is mentioned or talked about, it's not on accident or to fill up time, it's because it's important. Mike telling Will he felt like he lost him and giving us evidence as to why he may feel that way and then turning around to say it to El doesn't make sense. It's not supposed to make sense because the writers are trying to get us to use our little brains to piece things together.

For a moment I'll talk about the fanfic I'm working on. We see Jane and Mike kiss for a dare in chapter sixteen (I think) and I discuss the placement of his hands, how they both, and what they do. Then in chapter eighteen I discuss Mike's hands again and their placement with detail when he's holding onto Will. Why do I do that? Because I am trying to tell readers there is a contrast to those actions Mike is making. I'm telling people the person he wants and is picking without giving his POV through tiny actions. So what I'm saying is that I can promise the writers of this show are doing just as tiny things.

So my point here is, characters don't get to just say things, they have to be proven and have logical standing or they should be taken as lies. Writing is a system and characters words and lines are thought out. Nothing humans or characters say is meant to be surface level. Not really.

The way dialogue works, is there has to be underlining meaning or message to each thing a character says. So, if you give two different characters the same exact line, they're going to be performed differently because the intention behind the words will be different. Does that make sense?

I love you. Okay prove it to me or you're lying.

I'm not scared of you. Okay prove it to me or you're lying.

As I said before, a writer's job is to give an audience something and then make the character prove it. If they don't do that, then watchers are able, or should be able, to piece together that something is wrong or a character is not being truthful.

Once again, no character will EVER look at the camera and say 'I'm about to lie' we have to piece that together. You know why? Because these stories are perfectly crafted and very much fake. We're not watching reality TV, we're watching a multi million dollar show.

So, I urge everyone to watch this show and think about this 'prove it' mentality and how well the duffers usually do it. If writers want us to believe their characters, then they must prove the points we are seeing or hearing. We never have to give them the benefit of the doubt because they don't want us to.

Mike, Will, El, every character is a puppet on a string being danced around the stage by the writers."

queerest-friend added, "This also relates to the fact that we got virtually no flashbacks during Mike's confession except for one image of El in the Benny's Burgers shirt. Even the camera couldn't help "prove" anything Mike was saying."

This is just one example of the many in-depth analyses Bylers have made about the show. We take into consideration every detail, the set design, costumes, lighting, blocking, dialogue, facial expressions, body language, and more which the creators of the show have pointed out are important and have meaning. Mike is an undeniably queercoded character, because of all of his actions in the show and the clues surrounding him. He's more queercoded than Will was in a lot of ways, and he's more queercoded than Robin. If we were right about all the evidence for Will being gay, and the same types of evidence are being used for Mike, why would one be true and not the other?

That's all, let me know your thoughts in the comments. :)

#byler #mike wheeler #stranger things #will byers #mike x will #gay mike wheeler #mike and will #byler nation #byler is real #byler endgame #byler analysis #byler confirmed #byler canon #anti anti byler #byler evidence #byler is canon #byler is requited #byler is endgame #will x mike #mike wheeler is gay #gay mike truther #mike wheeler i know what you are #bi mike wheeler #queer coding #queer community #lgbtq characters #lgbtq community #lgbt representation #lgbt #lgbtq

[sennqu]

ok i am ready to be spicy. so i made this post the other day (or yesterday what is time) without tags: (with some slight word changes)

"oh, I get it now. I think I understand a big reason why the "Mike is in love with Will but just doesn't want to admit it because he has internalized homophobia" is such a popular fandom opinion. Because then Mike's behavior becomes "obviously" romantic since this take assumes that he's aware of his behavior.

The take that he's "simply oblivious, simply doesn't know his feelings are actually romantic in nature", which -- in my opinion -- is much more heavily supported by the text, is... actually kind of scary to consider from a "wanting the ship to be canon" perspective. Because it's pretty much close to saying that his feelings are actually just platonic after all because that's what Mike thinks they are."

So, I have been thinking very hard on this for a while because I do think that this is why there is a sort of...friction? anxiety? in the general vibes of the fandom with regards to how byler can even work out in S5 after the events of S4.

In my opinion, I think that the second take -- Mike is oblivious -- actually lends itself well to the prospect of official, no ways around it endgame byler better than the first one does.

Because imagine it: Mike doesn't have to suffer through thinking he's wrong or he's a mistake or that he's not conforming to society's standards before coming to terms with his feelings. He just has to realize he's in love with his best friend, and that his best friend is in love with him. Mike is going to be the out, loud, and proud person of this relationship. He just has to figure his shit out.

First, what do we know about Mike so far and what can we take away from it? and why is it not "internalized homophobia"?

The biggest evidence for me against the "internalized homophobia" take is in S1 when Will was being called names by Troy and friend. Mike physically retaliated. He didn't look ashamed; he looked angry. Because they were insulting his missing best friend right in front of him. He was not internalizing these slurs. What he was doing was defending Will, who was the target of this hate. He prioritized defending Will, who wasn't even there, over cowing to displays of homophobia.

What about that "It's not my fault you don't like girls" line? Surely that means he's repressed and internalizing some shit? Yeah, and maybe he was just talking faster than his mind could think? Mike ends up clarifying this line and gives away the actual thing that's holding him back: heteronormative thinking. He talks about getting girlfriends as part of growing up as a young man. He says this like a neutral piece of information.

Let's talk about Mike's fears. So far, all of Mike’s insecurities are about being needed, being useful. It's not conforming to society. It's not fitting the mold. If he feared that then he'd have done what Lucas did and joined a popular group. But what did he do? He leaned into his DnD hobby and even started dressing differently, growing his hair out too. S4 Mike is not afraid to be an outcast.

What he does fear most is people leaving him behind. That's what he says about/to El, and that's practically what he says to Will as his excuse for being weird at the airport. The knock-off outfit, the flowers. That wasn't him trying to be straight so he wouldn't be outed as gay or in love with his best friend or whatever. That was his attempt at saving his relationship because he does love El and he doesn't want to lose her too. But they are incompatible. He doesn't realize he doesn't love her romantically but he does love her. That's why he's struggling. Because he can't differentiate between the two.

Lastly, he says to Will: "I feel like I lost you". Which means he felt like he already lost Will. Loving someone and losing them is something Mike never wants to happen again because it already happened once, twice, three times before with Will. Once when Will vanished, the second time when Will got possessed, and the third time when Will moved away. Mike's issue isn't about loving Will and fearing he's gay; it's about losing Will again.

The bolded part is the one I want to highlight because it's the most important piece of the puzzle imo. I am willing to bet that not wanting to lose Will again is going to be a huge part of Mike’s arc in S5 and is going to lead to him finally realizing his feelings. I honestly don't think Will's confession is going to figure into things at all until Mike's realized his feelings. Because the audience has to see Mike fall in love with Will before he figures out Will loves him back. The audience should not be made to think that Mike only falls in love with Will because Will's in love with him.

But how will Mike realize exactly the difference between his love for Will and his love for El if he's this goddamn oblivious? How will the process even start? El has to break up with him. No other way around it. El has to tell him straight up that she does not believe he is in love with her. Only then can Mike be free to even think about what romantic love actually means to him. I imagine this is where he and Nancy will actually get to talk about something substantial again, when he asks her what being in love means. and that will further get the ball rolling. And I believe however his arc plays out, we will get to see Mike and Will definitively end up together.

Because Mike loves Will so much. He isn't quite aware of what this love is yet but he has it in abundance. That is why he was the only one apart from Joyce who pushed for finding Will initially; that is why he is always the first to apologize when he and Will fight; that is why the best thing he's ever done was ask Will to be his friend; that is why he lashed out at Will at the roller rink; that is why he was so over the moon about Will's painting and Will's words in the van that he ironically didn't even see Will crying; that is why he only said his monologue after Will practically told him to.

Will is and continues to be Mike's most important person. Once Mike realizes he's in love with Will and the feeling is mutual? Homophobia can go suck a tail pipe because how dare this concept make the love of his life feel like a mistake? Mike is going to kiss Will as soon he realizes because he is not going to let anyone make him wait a minute longer before kissing the boy of his dreams.

sneaky edit: the underlined parts are links to other analyses i've done before regarding Mike's behavior. Analyses over the airport/roller rink scene, him being oblivious, his love for El, etc!

#this is.... very long #absolutely the longest post i have ever written #it's not as concise or as pinpointed as i wanted it to be #but that's fine. I'm laying it all out there #ku blarghs #strangely blogging #byler #this is a great starting off point for my planned predictions post too #and as is the norm for my posts... links abound... #also i know i am very confidence and 100% hope personified in this post #because i am. i am confident. not about the specifics. but i am 100% they are going to kiss #you guys can be worried about it being canon it's ok. i have enough confidence and hope for all of us lmao

[transautisticmikewheeler]

@voydhund HERE YOU GO, I WAS INSPIRED

title: how could i ever give you up?

rating: teen and up

relationships: mike wheeler/will byers

additional tags: trans mike wheeler, autistic mike wheeler, periods, hurt/comfort, post season 4

summary: mike has never been excited about getting his period, but will definitely makes it better.

Letting a groan escape his mouth, Mike squeezes his eyes shut, body curled up tight despite his long limbs. He'd pushed his blanket off hours ago, feeling like he was overheating with anything on top of him. He can tell he's cramping bad this time, and without a doubt, he knows Will is going to ban him from the party meetup today.

He groans again, the realization hitting him. Too bad taking T didn't stop it, he thinks with a hazy mind.

He's still in the same position when his bedroom door opens minutes later, a hand falling on his arm.

"Mike? Baby?"

Mike feels like crying at his boyfriend's voice. "...Get the heating pad, please," Mike answers weakly.

"Period came early?" He can hear Will digging in his closet, looking for the heating pad his mom got specifically for him.

"Yeah," Mike groans, the pain hitting him again. "I really fucking hate this..."

Will hums, and seconds later he's pulling at Mike's arm. "C'mon, we gotta make sure you're not bleeding everywhere and get you some tylenol."

Mike slowly follows, wincing at how his skin pulls. One very good thing about getting your period early: not having the energy or willpower to get a pad. He's definitely not being sarcastic.

Will drops him off at the bathroom, turning the shower on when Mike asks.

"I'll find you some sweatpants and a t-shirt?" Will offers over the sound of running water.

And Mike kind of feels bad about this, about making Will do all of this for him just because his abdomen hurts. "Yeah, sorry about... all of this." He waves his hand like an afterthought, watching as Will's expression shifts in a way that Mike has trouble reading even after all these years.

"Mike," he starts softly, kneeling down in front of Mike. "I don't mind doing all of this for you. I love you."

Mike wrinkles his nose. "I know, but I shouldn't need you to drag me out of bed." He looks down, hands rubbing together, or more caressing, searching for softness. "I'm supposed to be able to take care of myself."

"Well," Will starts, reaching forward to push hair out of Mike's face and gently coax his head back up. "You're in pain and a lot of people wouldn't be able to either. I want to make it easier however I can. If that means I help you take care of yourself, then I'll do it."

Again, Mike feels like crying. "Thank you for being here," he murmurs instead.

"Of course." Will stands up, pressing a kiss to the top of Mike's head. "Now, you need to shower."

Then Will is gone, and Mike is wincing as he peels his clothes off, blanching at the blood. The warm water is soothing, and he can admit he feels better when he's done.

The clothes are on the sink when he gets out. He dries off and throws his underwear and a pad on first, grabbing the dark sweatpants next. Finally, Mike realizes that the shirt is one of Will's, and a smile splits his face.

Will is sat on his bed, a book in hand when he gets to the doorway of his room. He looks up, smiling, and reaches for the bottle beside him, standing to get the water from Mike's nightstand.

"Here." Two pills are set in his palm, and he wastes no time swallowing them, the dull ache already sharpening again.

Mike collapses back on the bed, curling up before Will passes him the warmed-up heating pad to place under his stomach. "Thanks," Mike mutters, as Will slides in behind him.

"No problem," he returns. "I told the others we won't make it today."

Mike hums, waiting for the medication to kick in. "And they're okay without us?" He tries not to sound worried, but he knows Will instantly sees through him.

"They just hope you get better, baby. They know you're in good hands."

Mike can't help the instant blush that covers his cheeks. "Okay." He snuggles back in Will's arms, content to know that his boyfriend is still here.

#stranger things #mike wheeler #will byers #byler #trans mike wheeler #🔗 #my fics #it's not exact but like.... #the vibes take me where they take me

[livelovesimallways]

"Baby Johnson's Arrival"...Pt. 5

(previous)

20 Minutes Later......

"Deanna?..." *closes the door*

*sees who it is* "Oh hell no! I don't know why you're up here, but you can get out! Tell that mothafucker to give me my son and my phone, we're leaving! I'm getting a restraining order and filling for full custody. He'll be lucky if a judge allows supervised visitation."

"I know you're upset right now but just take a moment to think rationally."

"Rationally!??? Look at my face!!" *voice cracking* "This is more than one punch!...I'm done."

"Listen, he had no right to put his hands on you. Nothing in this world justifies that. But with that being said, it didn't come out of nowhere. You named his son after Sean, something he has to live with for the rest of his life. That was fucked up too."

"Well he should've handled that like a man, instead of using his fists! Of course I was wrong, but that doesn't mean I deserved this."

"I'm not saying you did, I just want you to see that there's cause and effect. Going to the courts over this one incident doesn't make sense. It wouldn't be a regular case. He's Michael fuckin Johnson!...The world famous, six time NBA champion, multi-billionaire! Do you realize the rippling damage that would cause? Think about Silas. Labeling his father as an abuser would mess up his future."

"Oh please, only Mike is going to suffer, and rightfully so."

"How can you be so sure? If this gets out, he'll be flooded with lawsuits from people looking for a payday. They'll say he's a monster and use your situation as ammunition. No one will care if they have any real claim, it'll be believable. His reputation will be finished, he'll have to resign from his companies, and he'll forever be blackballed. Silas is his son. No one will want to work with him or put him on a team because of the negative attention his father's name will bring. Sure he'll be rich, but will he be happy? All the comments, ridicule, comparisons...It will take a toll."

"Well, what do you suggest I do then!? I can't be here and I'm not leaving my baby. He's not going to give me custody without a fight. I won't win without telling my truth."

"I know. He's stubborn and not capable of seeing the bigger picture, but you are. You're Silas' mother and have been protecting him since you found out you were pregnant. Continue to do that by letting this go. Everything was fine before today. He knows he messed up and I promise you he won't do that again. Just take a breather, rest, and reset."

*shakes her head* "This is crazy..."

"I agree. It's alot, but you're doing the right thing. I'll go get you an ice pack and some Tylenol."

"...And Silas?"

"Hmm. Maybe I should bring him up after you get some rest. Babies can sense stress. You'll feel better afterwards and that will make all the difference."

A Little While Later.......

"Took you long enough, I was beginning to get worried. Ryan handled his part and got through to Sean's agent. Once he heard the words blackballed he had him make a post addressing the rumors." *rubs Silas' back* "So what happened with Deanna?"

"She's hurting but I think I got through to her. Right now she's resting."

"Good. Did you give her the pain medicine?

"Yes. I told her it was Tylenol like you asked." *with a slight attitude*

"I know you didn't want to do it but it had to be done. I can't trust that she won't change her mind, so it's just a little insurance. Technically Percs have Tylenol in them so you really didn't lie."

"So how exactly will that work in your favor?"

"It's simple. If she goes to the courts, I will have the judge order a hair sample drug test. They leave your system but stay in your hair for up to 90 days. My lawyers will paint a very different picture that you and Ryan will corroborate. I told her ass, I don't play about my kids. She's either gonna fall in line or lose him for good."

#black simblr #sims 3 story #sim story #deanna #mike #asia #ryan #the weekend #story update

[parkitaco]

33 for the kisses prompts.

"Mike."

"Hmm?"

"Mike."

Mike glances up distractedly, the end of his pencil pressed to his lower lip. "Yeah?"

Will looks at him imploringly from where he's sprawled out at the end of his bed, flipping idly through comic books while Mike attempts to do homework. "Pay attention to me," he whines, wriggling closer and making puppy eyes at him.

Despite his best efforts - he really does need to get the this homework done - Mike's mouth ticks up into a small smile. Will is rarely so needy - it's always Mike clinging to him, wrapping arms around him and standing probably a little too close when they're around people, acting generally incriminating despite the secrecy of their relationship. But in moments like these, when they're alone in comfort of Will's room and it's safe to be them, together, Will lets himself be a little bit more overbearing, a little more like the overly sappy, affectionate boyfriend Mike knows he'd be all the time if the world was just a little bit better.

Which is why Mike doesn't deny him when it happens. He grins, setting his homework aside and holding out an arm, which Will eagerly grabs hold of as he immediately scoots closer and climbs halfway on top of Mike.

Their noses bump, and Mike's arms come to settle around Will's waist, hugging him close. He hadn't thought of casual touch as being something terribly groundbreaking, before he started dating Will - it had been relatively normal for them anyway, but he hadn't factored in how much he would miss it, when they're around other people. How much he overthinks it, now, whenever he gets the urge to sling an arm around Will's shoulders or link their pinky fingers together or sit beside him on movie nights, close enough that their sides get all pressed up against each other in one fluid line. He hates having to second-guess whether it's abnormal to behave that way with an alleged friend, especially considering he and Will had never acted like normal friends to begin with. They've always been a little different. A little more.

"Hi," Will murmurs now, reaching up to drag a finger along Mike's jaw and smiling sweetly at him. He's beautiful, like this, sprawled across Mike with the spring sunlight filtering through the window and hitting his face at all the right angles.

Mike's a little bit in love with Will, as it turns out. "Hi," he murmurs, and he can feel Will's smile against his lips when he leans in to kiss him.

It's a sweet kiss, lazy and lingering and with nowhere near the same amount of frantic, nervous energy their first few kisses had held, in those hazy weeks where death seemed to be lurking around every corner and every conversation they had, every kiss exchanged, had the potential to be the last. Following that were the messy, complicated few months after the gates were closed and Vecna was gone and everyone was trying to figure out how to continue being alive, when for so long it had seemed that they wouldn't get another opportunity. That's when the two of them had to face the fact that they were still alive, and likely would be for a long while, and that meant figuring out what on earth was going on between them and, consequently, face the fact that, now that the population of Hawkins was no longer worried about being sucked into Hell's fiery gates, they now had more time and cause to ask questions about certain boys wanting to kiss other boys.

It's gotten better, since then, now that they've found a sort of rhythm and routine, though Mike still doesn't get to kiss Will nearly as much as he'd like to.

Will must be thinking something similar, if the soft sigh he releases into Mike's mouth is any indication, and Mike relaxes into him, pulling him closer by the shirt. He can do his homework later, he decides as Will presses him further back into the pillows, and sets down his pencil, still clutched in one hand, in favor of shoving both hands into Will's hair.

"Love you," Will murmurs into Mike's mouth, because he makes a point to say it every chance he gets, what with the limited amount of alone time they get. Mike's about to say it back, the words about the only coherent thought left in his brain at this point, when, from the other end of the house, there's the unmistakable sound of a key in the lock.

Will must hear it at the same time that Mike does, both of them conditioned to hide at the first sign of danger, because he pulls back, wide-eyed, and they both fall dead silent as they listen for more telltale sounds.

There's a creak of hinges, and then the clattering of keys hitting the dining room table, and Will's breath quickens, hot against Mike's face. "No one was supposed to be home," he whispers, still close enough that his lips brush Mike's when he talks. He should probably be moving away, right about now, creating a respectable amount of distance between them, but Mike's critical thinking tends to get a little addled when Will is this close to him, and he can only assume the same is true for Will.

"Maybe someone's breaking in," Mike whispers back, as footsteps thud through the house, distant but audible, and Will gives him a look.

"How is that better," he hisses, which hadn't really been what Mike was implying. He's about to say so when the footsteps suddenly grow louder, and Will's yelping and rolling off him, knocking him off balance in the process, and Mike goes tumbling to the floor beside Will's bed, hidden from the doorway just in time for the door to swing open.

"Will?" comes Hopper's voice, as Mike hurriedly wriggles into the back corner by Will's bedside table and tries to quiet his breathing.

"Hey, Hop," Will says, in a breathless sort of voice that makes Mike cringe, a little. It's a miracle they've pulled this secrecy thing off for so long. They're both terrible actors. "Home early?"

Mike can just make out Hopper's legs shifting further into the room, and he ducks his head lower just on the off chance Hopper can see him from across the room. "Yeah, your mom should be home in an hour or so. Everything okay?"

"Yeah, 'course," Will chirps like the liar he is, and Mike stifles a laugh as Hopper wanders out of the room. The second he's out of earshot, Will jumps up, swinging the door closed and locking it before appearing over Mike, face hanging over the edge of the bed.

Mike stares up at him, one eyebrow quirked and mouth twisted into a smirk. "You know I'm allowed to be here, right? You didn't have to hide my existence."

"I didn't do it on purpose!" Will yelps, and then immediately throws a glance in the direction of the door, afraid Hopper might have heard. "I- are you okay?"

Mike reaches up and grabs hold of Will's wrist, tugging him in closer, and Will slides easily off the bed to join him in the darkened corner. "I'm fine," he says, smirking as Will wriggles into the small space between the bed and the wall beside him. "Except now I'm gonna have to sneak out the window when I leave, because no one knows I'm here-"

"Okay, okay," Will says, leaning over and pressing a quick kiss to Mike's lips, effectively shutting him up. "I get it, I'm a shitty liar, whatever."

Mike grins all teeth. "Good kisser, though."

"Idiot," Will replies, but is pliant under Mike's hands as he draws him in for another kiss, a proper one this time. It's a little bit cramped, shoved into the small corner of the room, but Mike can't find it in himself to mind, not when the smallness of the space forces them into such delicious proximity like this, pressed up against each other and leaned back against the wall.

Outside the door, the floorboards creak, and they both freeze as Hopper's footsteps thud down the hallway, slowly fading into the recesses of the house.

"He's not gonna come in here again," Will murmurs, one arm still slung over Mike's neck as he watches the door warily, "Probably."

"It's locked," Mike points out in a low voice, which is probably more incriminating than any of the other things, but is worth it for the reaction time it will give them when inevitably someone else comes knocking.

Will nods, smiling as he refocuses on Mike, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. "We're safe," he agrees quietly, as Mike smiles and squeezes his arms gently.

I'm always safe, with you, Mike thinks, and Will catches him in a kiss.

#33 - hushed conversation in-between kisses #byler ficlet #mike wheeler #will byers

[hb-writes]

Ch. 4 - The Youngest

The youngest one's turning into a real pain in the ass.

It was late when Harvey and Charlie finally arrived home from the office. He hated having to put in the extra hours nearing the weekend, and he hated that it was for a pain in the ass client like Heskett. He hated even more that they had barely made any headway even though they had worked straight through dinner. And Mike was still at the office sorting through the mess.

Harvey headed straight for the bar cart by the window, pouring a drink and taking a sip while Charlie lingered by the kitchen island. She could feel the tension rolling off her brother from across the room. She wasn't responsible for all of it, though Charlie had come around to taking on a bit more of the responsibility over the hours she'd spent cooped up alone in his office, bored and pacing while the others worked in a conference room down the hall.

Harvey and Mike working on a case was a remarkable thing to watch, usually. They were brilliant. Charlie never managed to be anything less than impressed, but their work with the Heskett merger wasn't inspired or brilliant, even if the potential solutions they came up with were. The case was beyond maddening to everyone who had their hands in it. And watching them work through the newest obstacle, even from her isolation down the hall, left Charlie with an uneasiness in the pit of her stomach.

"Go get ready for bed."

Harvey spoke the words with his back to his sister. Though Harvey had earlier been insistent that they would continue the discussion at home, he still needed a few minutes to decompress before dealing with his sister. It had been a long day.

Charlie was more than willing to postpone things. She was grateful, even, for the temporary acquittal, heading to her bedroom without a word, dragging her school bag across the hardwood floors as she went.

Harvey ran a hand through his hair and looked out the window at the city below, a bit of the tension receding as he sipped his drink. His apartment had an expensive view—the place was exorbitantly expensive, really—but it was a view he wouldn't give it up for anything. He had lived there for almost as long as he had been working at Pearson-Hardman. The place had always been his refuge. Even now, even while sharing it with his kid sister.

Charlie understood what her brother had given up in taking her in. She knew that he'd lived a very different life before their father had died. That this had been a bachelor's pad. That, in many ways, it still was. Still needed to be. Harvey wanted his space to be neat…calm…nice. The peace of the apartment was a necessary part of his life. Harvey needed it, and Charlie made a conscious effort to keep her material possessions to the confines of her bedroom. She made a conscious effort to clean up after herself, if only to give her brother what she knew he needed.

It was the least she could do, considering all that he gave her, a notion that Charlie knew in her core. A notion she dwelled on a bit too much, that she owed Harvey for all he did, like someone was keeping score and she would forever be in his debt. Sometimes, Charlie forgot to be grateful. Sometimes, she forgot enough to just be a kid—a selfish, smart ass, spoiled brat of a little sister.

Charlie could be all of those things. Harvey knew it, but he couldn't help thinking that when it really came down to it, he had gotten beyond lucky with his sister. Or maybe not lucky. Harvey Specter didn't really believe in luck, but he had it pretty good with her because despite it all, she was a good kid. A pain in the ass sometimes, sure, but good when and where it mattered.

Charlie had been raised right. She had a good heart. Harvey supposed they had their father to thank for that. He tried to uphold what Gordon had done for her, tried to reinforce what he remembered from his own childhood, the things he had railed against when he was a kid, but knew in his heart were right now that he was on the other side of it, but Harvey knew he wasn't his father. That was something he could never be for her, an empty space Harvey always felt like he was trying to fit himself into.

Harvey poured out a second drink before making his way down the hall. Charlie's door was still partially open and he slipped through the door, setting his scotch glass on her dresser.

"I thought I told you to go to bed?"

Charlie dragged her eyes from the laptop screen to find her brother poised by the door, looking over her room, his eyes catching on the messier spots.

"Well, actually, you told me to get ready for bed and I would like to present exhibit A." Charlie pulled back the covers to expose that she was donning her pajamas, precisely as he had requested. "for the court, your honor."

Although a fleeting smile played on Harvey's lips, he didn't allow himself to laugh at her. "You mean counselor?"

Charlie shrugged. "In this house, you are judge, jury, and executioner, are you not?"

Being home, having the time alone in her bedroom, even if it had only been fifteen minutes or so, had settled Charlie a bit. Calmed her. Something had shifted for both of them and Harvey could tell she was trying to lighten the mood. He pressed his palms into the edge of her desk as he leaned against it.

"You know, I really prefer not to be," he said, his words tired. Harvey was tired—exhausted. "I wouldn't have to be if you just did what you're told."

Charlie considered her brother's words, glancing at the laptop screen again. "Yeah…well, I kind of have to finish this essay for Ollie," she said as she looked back to him. "And your instructions regarding 'getting ready for be' weren't entirely clear before, counselor."

Harvey raised an eyebrow, supposing that he'd left himself open there. He'd left his sister ample room to deflect. "You know what I meant, smart ass. How much do you have left?"

"A page or so," she mused, scrolling through what she'd already written.

Harvey nodded. "I'll give you an hour and I want you sleeping. It's late."

Charlie nodded, focusing her attention back on the laptop as Harvey took his drink, leaving her door slightly ajar. Usually, she'd get up to close it, but she didn't bother now. She probably didn't need a full hour to finish. It was a sort of bullshit assignment as far as Charlie was concerned. Oliver loved to assign reflection assignments and Charlie had been assigned many of them over the past couple of years. She still gave it a good faith effort though because she knew from previous experience that Oliver actually read the reflections he assigned the kids. He actually gave feedback on them, talked with them about it. And she knew he wouldn't hesitate to give it back to her for revision if it wasn't up to par.

By the time Harvey wandered back down the hallway about an hour and a half later, heading for his own bedroom, the light was still on, spilling out across the hallway. Despite all the light, Charlie was asleep, one of her hands still settled on top of the keyboard, as if she'd still been typing when consciousness left her the night before.

Harvey slid the laptop from her precarious hold and placed it safely on her desk, plugging in the charger before he turned back to his sister.

He no longer remembered how many times he had reminded Charlie to be careful with the goddamn thing. And to be careful with the expensive cell phone. And with the tablet. And with herself. Even now, she was so close to the edge of the bed that he wondered if she'd still benefit from those flimsy guard rails Gordon had installed on his old twin-sized bed when he'd first adopted her.

Charlie was a touch less than graceful and she had been the same level of accident-prone for as long as Harvey could remember. She had by some miracle never broken more than her little pinky toe, but she'd scared him plenty. Sometimes he wondered if she got a kick out of it—driving him absolutely crazy, scaring the shit out of him for the fun of it. Harvey wondered if their father had ever felt the same way—about him, about Charlie, about Marcus.

Maybe he and Marcus had been worse. Maybe girls were different. Harvey didn't know. Maybe Charlie was just different. Or maybe he'd done it to himself. Spoiling her, being too lenient, encouraging the smart ass in her.

If his sister was spoiled, it was primarily his doing and Harvey was well aware of that. Their father had never had the means to pamper her with much of anything aside from love, but Harvey had always tried to take care of her whether she asked for it or not. Even before he lived with her, Harvey had spoiled her. His father had raised an eyebrow at some of it, but he'd never said a word against it.

And now that she was his responsibility…Harvey had enrolled his sister in a quality school and he made sure that she had everything she could ever need. Everything she could want, really. She wasn't usually one to make overly extravagant requests, but there wasn't much Charlie Specter wanted for. Harvey wouldn't allow it, couldn't stand for it.

Whatever shit Harvey had experienced in his own childhood, he knew his sister had been given a more difficult start in life. And in knowing that, he'd placed an unwarranted obligation on himself to make up for the parts of Charlie's life that had been difficult. He hoped that she didn't remember much of it. He grounded a bit of his philosophy in the way he cared for her now in the hope that she had been too young to remember. She seemed relatively well-adjusted now so he figured he was right, but he supposed he couldn't always be sure.

When his father—their father—had died, Harvey had agonized over what to do with the sister left in his care, the resilient little girl who had been the one to find their father after the heart attack. Back then, Charlie had thrived on running around outside for hours, coming home muddy and tired from all the sun and fresh air. He hated to uproot her from that life and everything she knew to bring her to the city—to his world—but Harvey had a feeling she needed a fresh start. He hadn't even considered the other options.

Harvey couldn't have conceived of the idea of moving himself back to his hometown back then. It would have been a certain hell for him. His career with Pearson-Hardman had been climbing at a rapid pace, presenting opportunities only an idiot would drop in order to play it small time out on Long Island. The job allowed him to maintain the lifestyle he had come to covet. It allowed him to provide for Charlie, and to bail out Marcus if he ever needed it again. And Harvey couldn't imagine any other type of life for them now.

New York was home to them both. This apartment was home to them both.

Charlie could navigate the halls of their penthouse apartment in the dark and while still half asleep, which was a good thing considering both conditions were met when she stumbled into the kitchen near 5:00 am.

She still had to finish writing her reflection for Oliver, and she hated herself just a little for falling asleep before finishing, grateful the document had autosaved before her brother safely stashed her laptop the night before.

Charlie slid the laptop on the counter and muddled around the kitchen in a slight fog, setting up the coffee maker and pulling a clean mug from the cabinet.

"You're up early."

Charlie flinched at her brother's sudden presence. She was barely what one would call awake, demonstrated by her slow reaction when Harvey walked behind her, mussing her already messy hair as he walked straight to the window. It was still dark, the city's lights still bright spots in the black sky.

"Sorry I woke you," Charlie mumbled, her eyes trained on the coffee maker, willing the contents to brew faster.

Harvey shook his head, glancing back at her. "You didn't."

Harvey barely slept these days, or at least that's how it seemed to his sister. Charlie tended to keep late hours herself, wiling away the late evening and early morning hours with procrastinated assignments, books, or sitcom reruns, but Harvey always stayed up later and woke earlier in the morning than she did.

He went through phases like that, based on what was going on at work and a host of other things he rarely deemed fit to share with his little sister. Charlie knew to just let it be.

When the coffee maker beeped, Charlie took a mug to her brother first, scorching her fingertips as she held the handle out for Harvey to take.

"Thanks for tucking me in last night," she mumbled.

She half-remembered it, Harvey putting the laptop away and returning to the side of the bed to pull the covers over her shoulders, Charlie muttering a barely decipherable goodnight when Harvey kissed her head, just like Gordon used to do every night.

Harvey took a sip and glanced down at her. "It's a good thing I did since you left the laptop hanging off the end of the bed again."

"Accident," she offered by way of apology. "I guess I was pretty tired."

Charlie felt guilty that Harvey had even bought the laptop for her to begin with. It was the most expensive thing she'd ever owned and she could barely manage to keep herself from dropping it on the floor without his assistance and constant reminders.

"Maybe we need to set an earlier bedtime for you."

Charlie snorted. She didn't have a bedtime, not really. On the nights she stayed up far too late, he usually suggested she wrap it up and go to bed, but there was no steadfast rule. He rarely made her put away a good book or stop working on a procrastinated assignment, but he always made sure she dealt with the consequences the next day. He never let her stay home from school or sleep in just because she'd made the decision to decimate her sleep schedule the night before.

"I think we both need earlier bedtimes."

Harvey snorted softly, giving her a small smirk as he took another sip of coffee. It was as much as she'd do to comment on his own sleeping schedule. Charlie left his side as she went to make her own coffee and get settled at the counter. She pulled a leg up to sit underneath her body as she sipped her own coffee in front of her laptop.

Harvey settled beside her a few minutes later with his own laptop, scrolling through the news headlines as Charlie read through what she'd written the night before and got back into it. Harvey refilled both of their mugs once while they sat together in near silence.

"Finish that up so we can put this all behind us," Harvey said after he'd finished perusing.

Charlie nodded. She was close to being finished already, just editing, when Harvey fished his ringing cell phone out of the pocket of his sweatpants.

Charlie glared at Harvey, hearing the shift in his tone as he issued his greeting, a seductive playfulness there in his brief salutation. From a single word, Charlie could tell that it was a woman, that he was interested, and that it was certainly not business-related.

"When should I expect you?" he asked.

Charlie rolled her eyes and pulled up her Facebook page to pass the time while Harvey finished his conversation.

"Alright, Scottie," he said.

Charlie let out a sigh, an exaggerated one, and leaned into her head into her hand as she aimlessly scrolled through updates on her newsfeed.

"I'll make a reservation for that place on Madison and I'll figure something out for my sister."

This time Charlie made sure that Harvey noted her glare. He raised an eyebrow and made a gesture towards her laptop screen. Charlie ignored Harvey's silent suggestion to log off and turned away from him, continuing to scroll though she was intently listening to his side of the conversation. Harvey let out a frustrated exhale when his sister didn't comply.

"Oh, what's going on here?" Harvey leaned back in his chair and repeated the question while rubbing the back of his head. "Nothing much. Charlotte and I were just about to have a little chat about her getting hauled down to the principal's office yesterday."

Charlie sent another glare in his direction while simultaneously shoving her heel into his leg. Harvey shoved her foot away.

"Fun?" Harvey laughed as he caught Charlie's foot as she went for him a second time. "No. Not fun. Consider yourself lucky to be an only child, Scottie. Siblings are a headache and the youngest one's turning into a real pain in the ass these days."

Charlie wretched her foot out of his hold and Harvey watched his sister turn back to the laptop, reaching out to rest his hand on the back of her chair as he laughed at something Scottie said on the other end of the line. Charlie quickly slammed the laptop shut and shoved his hand away from her.

"Alright, Scottie. I gotta go."

Harvey set the phone down on the counter before turning to his sister. "What the hell is it with you—?"

"What's with you telling Scottie stuff like that?" Charlie countered. "It's none of her goddamn business." Charlie turned away from him, ready to gather her things and hustle to her own bedroom, but Harvey grabbed her arm before she could even slip out of the chair.

"And you don't need to get me a babysitter just so you can go sleep with her," she added as he tried to hold her there, her fingers prying at his grip even though the hold on her had been loose, just a gentle hand to keep her there beside him.

"Hey." Harvey's voice was light at first, a bit louder when he had to repeat himself. He swiveled Charlie's chair so she was facing him and she stopped fighting him then, put off by the sudden movement and the squeak of the chair leg against the floor. "What the hell was that?" he asked when she met his eye.

"Let me go." Charlie looked away, focusing on releasing Harvey's grip on her once again.

"Cool it, Charlie," he said. "You're already in trouble."

"I don't care," she answered. And in that moment, she didn't care. And she didn't need reminding. The way she saw it, he was practically announcing it to everyone—half of Manhattan would probably know she was in trouble by the time morning was through. They'd know she was nothing better than a pain in the ass, a burden.

"Harvey, stop," she ground out. "I need to get ready."

Harvey glanced at the clock above the stove. It was almost 6:30 already. She was right. They both still needed to shower and get ready for the day and he wasn't in the mood to be late.

Harvey let his hand drop. "You've got twenty minutes. Go get ready."

Charlie glanced at the clock and then back to her brother. "I've got an hour."

"You've got twenty minutes," Harvey repeated as he stood up to go to his own bedroom. They still needed to have a real conversation about whatever was going on with her, especially after this. He hoped forty minutes would be enough to sort it out.

LTLB Masterlist (Everything)

LTLB Masterlist (Chapters)

Chapter 5

#suits #suits tv #suits usa #suits netflix #suits fanfic #suits fanfiction #harvey specter #harvey specter fanfiction #specter!sister #dana scott #charlie specter

[memes-saved-me]

I'm sick so here's something from August I love and find satisfying. Tw: child abuse referenced and some violence

"Billy's papa is bad," she said and for the first time in about 30 minutes Steve actually heard what the group of kids in his back seat were saying. He watched the reactions of the others through the rear view mirror as the car went quiet. "He hurt him."

That hit Steve right in the chest, his stomach dropped. Unsure what to do he turned on the radio, something Mike and Will seemed very thankful for but when he pulled up outside the Wheeler's and waved to Mike he didn't drive as fast as usual.

Once a street or so away he turned the stereo dial back down. "What was it you were saying about Billy?"

"I just mentioned how we should check in on Max because she seems distant after what happened," Will replied.

"You said something about his dad," Steve pushed a little more. "About his dad hurting him."

"When I went into Billy's head I saw his mom. She was just like him but she left him and his papa hurt him," Eleven answered with a hint of tears in her voice.

"How?" he asked hesitantly.

"He hit him. A lot. Billy was angry because he was scared."

Steve took a deep breath as everything snapped into place and then nodded, turning the dial back up and pushing the speed limit so he could drop them off and then deal with whatever was screaming inside his chest. He smiled and waved to the two of them as they opened the front door to their home but the second it closed he broke.

Sobs erupting as he clung to the steering wheel. Overwhelmed by the guilt, his heart ripping in two all over again as he realised it all made sense.

All those bruises and scars, the hisses when his hands brushed over raw skin or fractured ribs. The look he got when Steve asked what happened. How he rushed off in the night to get home before the morning or the hushed cries in the dark when they had sex.

Why hadn't he found out? Pushed for an answer or told him he wouldn't tell, make him feel safe enough to say something. He could have helped. Done something. Changed everything if only he had known.

He wanted to scream but instead he pulled out of the driveway, turning to go home when he paused. Pulled over and thought about everything all at once.

Whatever they had been was messy, unsure and complicated but that didn't stop it from hurting. Burning a hole in Steve's chest as he dealt with a secret no one else knew. Mourning for someone everyone believed he disliked but in reality some days he thought he might have been in love with the bastard but that was now an unanswered question.

Yet, that anger began to fester in his stomach. Twist and choke him until he was speeding through Hawkins knowing exactly where he was going. When he pulled up outside he saw that truck Billy would turn tale and hide from parked around the back so he turned off his engine.

If he was honest he didn't know what he was going to do as his finger pushed the bell. Hands shaking waiting for someone to answer but when the door swung open to reveal the man he had thought about murdering the entire ride there he acted on emotion.

Without thinking about it at all his fist met Neil Hargrove's nose sending the grown man stumbling backwards into his own coffee table. The shock on his face as he looked at Steve being enough to send him into some sort of self righteous rage.

"Who do you think you are?" he rushed at Steve, nose bleeding but he was too quick. Before he could even touch him Steve had him on the ground staring up at him.

"Do you even know who I am?" Steve kicked him in the chest to keep him down. "Do you know who my father is? What my family can do to you? I'll make sure everyone in this town knows what you did."

"Don't you dare threaten me," his eyes were seething, ready to choke Steve out and bury his body in the woods but he couldn't get up. Everytime he tried Steve was there to stop him.

"You're a piece of shit and I want you gone. I want you out of this town or I'll make your life a living hell. No job, no home and no happy little family when I'm done. I will ruin you."

He stepped back glancing for a split second to see he was close enough to the door to make a run for it if needed but Neil didn't move. That was when he saw the open door of Billy's room, boxed piled around his bed. Something he thought might calm him but instead only enraged him.

"You better make some sorry excuse to leave. Alone. Leave Max and her mother and go. Get the fuck out of here and if I ever see your pathetic child beating ass around here again I'll finish this."

He didn't wait for a response. He turned and closed the door behind him, fist aching as he stretched his fingers and checked the marks on his knuckles. Car keys ready and back in the ignition to take off before someone saw him.

A deep satisfaction washing over him as the tears started again. He couldn't help Billy but he wasn't going to let that bastard get away with what he did, even if he was going to call the cops Steve didn't care. His family lawyers would sort that and most importantly he would tell them why he went there in the first place. He couldn't just sit and let him pretend as if Billy never existed.

Billy deserved justice for so many things but Steve couldn't fight the Mindflayer but he could get the other monster that hurt the boy he now missed more than most.

#Harringrove #Steve gets some revenge

[ashyblondwaves]

Jancy + “god, we’ve been together for ages! I didn’t think that borrowing a change of clothes would warrant this much attention.” Please!

Better Than Bacon Grease

Pairing: Jonathan Byers/Nancy Wheeler Rating: T Words: 707

GIF by @share-the-damn-bed

"I can't go out like this."

Jonathan stood at the foot of Nancy's bed; arms spread wide as Nancy giggled at his misfortune.

"It's not funny!" Jonathan bellowed, throwing his head back in frustration. "All because I had to dump out the bacon grease."

"And missing the canister completely," Nancy reminded him with another laugh.

"Come on, Nancy," Jonathan whined. "It looks like I pissed myself."

It would be the last time Jonathan tried to cook at the Wheeler's house. The cooking part went fine, perfectly even. He showed up at the Wheeler's house early and made breakfast for Nancy, Holly and Karen while Ted and Mike were off setting up for the block party that afternoon.

Conversation was light, breakfast was delicious and all that had to be done was clean up. But what is usually a coffee canister, at least at his house, the container the Wheeler's used to hold bacon grease had a lid far too small for pouring grease in it and as Jonathan tried to pour, he got it everywhere but the container, including his shirt and the front of his pants, right at the crotch.

"You were supposed to use the funnel!" Nancy said, shaking her head.

"Who uses a funnel to pour out bacon grease?!"

"We do!"

Jonathan sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"I have to go home a change," he said with finality.

"We don't have time for you to go home," Nancy reminded him. "We have to be at the block party in twenty minutes."

"We can be a little late," Jonathan said.

"Not when you're the photographer for the event, we can't!"

"What am I supposed to do?! Walk around smelling like a diner trash can all day?"

Nancy fell silent, chewing on her bottom lip. She looked down, a sly smile playing on her lips.

"What?" Jonathan asked.

"You can wear some of my clothes," she offered.

"Nancy."

"What? I have some oversized clothes you can try on."

What else was he supposed to do? He was not going to walk around full of grease all day.

"Fine. What do you have?" Jonathan finally said with a groan.

It wasn't bad. It really wasn't. Maybe a little tight. Maybe a little short, but it was better than wearing bacon grease all day.

The lavender Emerson t-shirt clung to Jonathan's lanky frame. Every time he raised his arms to bring his camera to his eye the shirt would ride up to his belly button.

Better than bacon grease.

The shorts left little to the imagination, black track shorts with white striping around the edges. They hugged places that would be considered indecent exposure in most states. But everything stayed covered, and nothing moved out of place. He just had to be careful when he bent down to snap a photo.

Better than bacon grease.

But the looks. The looks he was getting were making him uncomfortable, the center of attention. Long gazes that lingered on parts of him people had no right staring at. He just wanted to walk around and take pictures of the event like he was asked. He did need all eyes on his outfit.

But still. Better than bacon grease.

"God, we’ve been together for ages! I didn’t think that borrowing a change of clothes would warrant this much attention," Nancy laughed as she gave a tentative wave to Mike and the rest of the kids.

"I just don't think they're used to seeing the man wear the woman's clothes," Jonathan grumbled, pulling at the tight t-shirt and releasing the fabric with a snap.

"Well, that's sexist!" Nancy barked. "You have every right to wear my clothes, just like I wear yours. Nobody ever gives me looks when I wear your shirts."

"Probably because they fit you."

"Not the point."

"I think that's exactly the point. I probably look like I escaped from the insane asylum."

"Wouldn't be too farfetched," Nancy quipped.

"Har har har," Jonathan deadpanned. "Let's go get some pictures of the kids in the bounce house."

They walked together hand in hand, as everyone's eyes immediately went to Jonathan's outfit. A few people snickered, some gasped, but despite all that. It was better than bacon grease.

#musicalchaos07 #jancy #jancy fic #jancy fanfiction #nancy x jonathan #jonathan x nancy #st fic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #writing shit #i write shit #jancy drabbles

[thestrangestthing89]

Part 1 of 2:

Jonathan lying isn't just about Nancy which is why I don't think it's going to ruin that relationship when it's revealed. He's also lying to his family and at the moment, Argyle is the only one who knows what's going on with him and why. He doesn't want to leave his family and makes a comparison to his father abandoning them when he talks about this with Argyle. From the start of the series it's made clear that Jonathan is protective of Will in a way that their father never was. He takes care of him and gives him good advice and is mainly the reason why Will is so kind-hearted despite having gone through so much trauma. He has Jonathan to talk to and Jonathan is always emotionally available to him. He plays a role in Will's life that blends older brother with father figure. He had to grow up too fast and help take care of him and pay the bills because their own father left and couldn't handle it.

So when Will goes missing and Jonathan realizes that he never checked on him the night before he feels guilty. And we see this through a scene with Joyce and Jonathan when they are putting a Missing ad together for Will. He's upset and blames himself. Realistically it wouldn't have made a difference of course. If Jonathan had noticed the night before Will still would have been in the upside-down. The most this would have done was start a search a few hours earlier but since we know of the supernatural element, that may not have made much of a difference. We see Jonathan is clearly feeling guilty about this - he's upset and he apologizes to Will when they find him. Which leads to season 2 and his annoyance about Bob. Bob is taking the role of father here that Jonathan has had for years. While we don't see too much interaction between the three of them, we do see that Will is more accepting of Bob in their lives where Jonathan is just tolerant. Will accepts a ride to school and listens to his advice and he sticks up for Bob when him and Jonathan are talking. Now it's important to note here that Bobs advice isn't good and it ends up unintentionally harming Will, but this is mainly because Bob doesn't have all the information about what's going on with Will. We see Jonathan give Will good advice again when he tells him about Zombie Boy and all the bullying. Jonathan is the one who takes care of Will the way he needs to be taken care of. Jonathans isn't getting replaced - Will still needs him. At the end of the season we see more guilt from Jonathan. When they are back at the Byers house after they escape the lab. Will is unconscious and Jonathan is apologizing for not having been there for him. Even though Joyce, Hopper, Mike and Bob were there for Will, he still feels guilty for not having been there himself. So of course when they are talking to Will in the shed it's Jonathan, Joyce, and Mike talking to him and telling him stories - they are the people who know him best. But it's important to note here that it's Mike who first gets through to Will and not Jonathan. Mike's story about meeting Will is kindergarten is the thing that gets Will communicating to them in morse code and it's Mike who realizes that Will is trying to sacrifice himself and it's Mike who comes up with a plan to fix it. Not Jonathan (this is important in part 2). In the scene at the end where they are de-possessing Will, it is clear that Jonathan is distraught over watching Will be in pain. It's so awful for him he can't even watch. It's been made very clear through all of this that Jonathan loves Will and will do anything to protect him. He feels responsible for him. Season 3 is the first time we don't see interaction between the two without the whole group around them. Will is distracted by his problems with Mike and Jonathan is distracted by his job and fighting with Nancy. This fight with Nancy is significant because they both are correct and only part of it gets resolved. It's still a loose thread. Because while Nancy is discussing how it's humiliating to work in a place like that, Jonathan is trying to explain to her that he can't afford to complain about it because he has to help pay the bills. It's a problem many working class women face and a problem Nancy can't relate to - complaining about getting harassed at work is a privilege. Plenty of working class women have to grin and bear the abuse at work because they have bills to pay. There is no way Joyce hasn't experienced this. So while Jonathan can't relate to the way that Nancy's treated - he immediately gains respect by being male - Nancy can't understand why he doesn't say anything and it's because his family depends on him. Nancy is upper middle class and had that job for the experience not for money. She still relies on her father for that and can. Jonathan later apologizes to Nancy but it's not for this fight. It's because he doubted that she was right about the rats and the case.

This fight is still unresolved and it's why Jonathan doesn't tell her about college. Now the reason he doesn't apply to college is about Will, but him not telling Nancy is because of this fight. They usually communicate well with each other but here is the first time they aren't on the same page and it's because they can't relate to each other. They have different experiences and they don't know how to explain it to each other. This doesn't have to be a big deal. Most couples aren't going to have the same exact upbringing and experiences, but they are young and don't know how to discuss it. So we have season 4 and Jonathan emotionally checking out for the first time. He's not there for Will when Will is struggling with his identity and he's avoiding his family. He can't tell them he won't go to college because he feels like he's abandoning them which will then lead to them feeling guilty. It's another difficult conversation he's avoiding. He does apologize to Will for not being there at the end of the season and it's clear Will still needs him. But after all the drama of season 4 - the shoot out at the house, the burying the dead agent, helping find El and escaping, and trying to help her help Max - Jonathan has to be feeling even more reluctant to leave. Because what would have happened to Will and Mike in the house when they were attacked if Jonathan wasn't there? Nancy even thanks him for being there because she knows he is the reason they got to Hawkins safely. They all need Jonathan and rely on him.

More in Part 2

#jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #jancy #will byers #mike wheeler #byler

[dckweed]

can you do a hurt/comfort or angst/fluff with reader x jonathan byers? preferably the reader comforting jonathan after maybe something to do with his father or will going missing or something? maybe like the reader reassuring him its okay and that they will be with him through all of it?

sad gal hours with this one :( hope you enjoy babes! sorry this took so long, my last post took it out of me lol.

p.s. im low-key in a dark mood so this might come out a little bit darker than i meant it too and im so so sorry

p.s. i had a whole lot written, more than what was below and then tumblr glitched and didn't save my draft so now it's shorter than what i meant it to be.

warnings: no age limit bc no smut, mentions of death, lots of sadness. ive been told that i have an unfortunate gift for making people very strongly feel the emotions of my characters, so this is your official warning that you may slip tears if ive done my job correctly today. also i generally don't proof read or edit so sorry for any spelling mistakes.

'.. THICK AND THIN..' jonathan byers x reader

It was a dreary, cold day in Hawkins Indiana. A large group of people clad in all black stood staring around a large, deep hole in the nearly frozen ground, a casket directly above it.

The Byers family were burying their youngest, a boy named Will, whom you had come to love deeply in your time of knowing him. He was like a little brother to you as well, you being a constant in their home as of late.

You stood next to Jonathan, your hand squeezing his tightly. You could feel how tense he was, you knew he was upset by his father's presence, he hadn't cared one damn bit when Will had first gone missing, so why did he even bother showing up now? Knowing Lonnie, and you knew the stories of course, it was probably because he wanted something, or was trying to take some kind of advantage of the distraught, heart broken Joyce.

You couldn't help but look around at all of the people who had showed up, the ones that actually did care about the boy and his family. You noticed Mike Wheeler just in front of you, tears falling from his eyes. You reached a hand over, squeezing his shoulder. You felt bad for the boys, you loved Will's friends, and it was clear how bad his bunch of goofball buddies missed him.

When the service was over, and everyone who came had finished saying their 'im sorry's' and had shaken Lonnie's hand, you and Lonnie managed to get Joyce and Jonathan to the car.

You didn't care for Lonnie, but you were thankful he was at least helpful in this situation. You say in the back with Jonathan has he drove, your hand gripping his tightly. You knew that he wanted to break down, but he wouldn't let himself because his mother was already a crumbling broken mess big enough for the two of them, you had told Jonathan that you didn't mind shouldering the job of picking up everyone's pieces, but he wouldnt let you do it by yourself.

Once you were back at the Byers house you helped Jonathan inside, laying your coat on his bed before sitting next him after shutting his bedroom door. You could hear the bathroom door close down the hall, and the shower kick on.

Jonathan was stiff, and he had a hard look on his face. You could tell that he was trying very hard not to cry. Not knowing what else to do, you take his face in your hands, moving so you're sitting on his lap.

"Hey, hey...it's okay to cry, Jonathan.." You say, giving him what you hoped was a reassuring enough look, you felt his hands on your thighs, squeezing so lightly you couldn't even tell they were there. You moved your hands down to your shoulders, pushing his jacket off of them and down his arms. "Come on, let's get you into something more comfortable."

You stood, moving off of his lap before going to his dresser, you pulled out a Tshirt and some pajama pants for him and moved back to him, he was still sat there unmoving. You give a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth, running your hands through his hair before unbuttoning his shirt and sliding it off of his shoulders as well.

It took you a few minutes but after a while you had him dressed in a green tshirt and plaid pajama pants, you straightened up after putting his pants on for him and immediately he engulfs you in a hug, his arms wrapping around you to the point where you feel as if you're suffocating, but you don't tell him to let go, you wrap your arms just as tightly around him, letting your head rest against his chest.

His mouth his pressed to the top of your hair, and you feel his body shake as he lets out a sob, and then another one, and before you know it, you're collapsed on his floor in a heap, holding on to him as tightly as you can, trying to comfort him as best as you can as he shakes and sobs and snots all over you.

It lasts for a while, you sit there happily until he calms down, moving his head into your lap as you go to play with his hair. You gave him a soft smile, looking at him almost sadly, you hated that he was going through this, that his mom was probably just as bad. You wished that you knew how to comfort both of them, that you could go back in time and fix this entire situation.

"Thank you..for everything." You hear him sniffle, his voice soft and quiet, laced with sadness. "You don't have to be here, Y/N, you don't have to care like you do, but you do and you have no idea how grateful i am every day that you're here.."

You smile, leaning down to kiss his head before tapping his cheek gently. "Hey, I made you a promise, remember?" You say, giving him a look. "I may have made it when I was drunk off my ass, but i still meant what I said...you're stuck with me, through Thick and Thin, remember?"

Jonathan shifts, looking up at you, his mouth opening as if he's about to say something, but he stops, both of you turn your heads towards his bedroom door as you hear shouting, and you both get to your feet immediately, the sweet moment ruined.

#stranger things #stranger things s2 #stranger things s1 #jonathan byers #jonathan byers x reader

[who-knows73]

I have this like vision in my head of mike accidentally walking up on Steve and Eddie like fooling around in an alley or something and it's dark and as he's watching them in shock his eyes unfocus just slightly and black blurs with brown and suddenly he isn't looking at Steve and Eddie but Him and Will and he has to BOLT cause that thought hasn't crossed to the front of his brain just yet so he's like will????

Oh my god I love this idea, I saw it when I woke up but didn't have time to write and I've been mildly spiralling all day. Anyways, I hope this does your prompt justice :)

It was Mike's turn to rent a movie for the party and they were all coming over tomorrow. He was supposed to get it earlier but Will came over and he got distracted by his passionate rants, the way he looked so careless and content while drawing. Fuck, even the moles peppered on his skin looked so kissable, he really was too far gone for that beautiful boy. He trips over his shoelaces and it's enough to pull him out of his trance, looking around to catch his bearings he realises that he'd almost missed Family Video.

There's noise coming from the alley between stores it's getting dark and Mike can't decipher what it is from sound alone, call it morbid curiosity but he has to go see what it is. He peeks around the corner of Family Video, careful to keep his steps unheard but standing in the darkness is.. Oh god, he's not supposed to see that. Eddie is pushing Steve against the cold brick wall tearing a mostly silenced moan from Steve. He's rutting his hips into Eddie's thigh pushed roughly between his legs while Eddie kisses along his neck. He should really stop watching, it's probably far past creepy at this point but he can't. He's no longer seeing polo's and leather jackets, he's seeing plaid shirts and blue button ups. He sees bowl cuts and those hands that looked so delicate wrapped around pencil crayons ten minutes ago look far more inciting now, wrapped around body parts and pulling at Mike for more.

More, more, more. Fuck. This is perverted, he shouldn't be thinking about Will that way, he definitely shouldn't be doing it in the entrance to a dirty alley way, and he absolutely needs to leave right now because Eddie just his hands down Steve's pants. Forgetting about the tape he runs home, well, he runs about a block before he gets tired and starts walking again. He can't stop thinking about Will in scenarios, positions, and doing things he'd only even seen done in a dirty magazine Lucas showed him that he kept stashed under his bed.

By the time he gets home he's put the idea of Will kissing him in dirty places out of his mind so he can get to his room without a boner because having his mom notice that would be mortifying. He's done the pleasantries as quickly as he could and ran to his room.

The door was barely shut before the image of Will touching himself and having to cover his mouth to keep quiet came to mind. His knees quiver and his boner is back again. Locking his door he shucks his pants off and sits on his bed. He'd done this before but never to the thought of will, he'd always seemed too pure and childlike to think of in such a dirty way but he was too far gone now to care. He knew he wouldn't last long considering the frenzy he'd worked himself into on the way home, taking his dick out of his underwear he started slowly stroking himself. God, now he was the one who had to cover his mouth to keep quiet.

He'd barely been touching himself for a full minute when in his mind, Will was on his knees looking up at him through his lashes and giving mike that soft, pouty look he gets when he wants something. The reaction was instantaneous, he came harder than he probably ever had before and had to bite down on his hand to keep from moaning loudly. He laid there in his filth long enough to catch his breath and waited for the spots in his vision to go away. While he lied there, hand and shirt covered in cum, Will now back to the soft and pure boy he was before, Mike realised that he hadn't even gotten the tape.

"Fuck."

#byler #byler tumblr #byler headcanon #semi smut #steddie #those two are shameless #still not sure how they didn't notice mike #mike wheeler's dirty thoughts #will byers #mike wheeler #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things season five

[run-down-that-dream]

State of Mind

State of Mind Mike Campbell x Reader

Summary: Inspiration strikes during Mudcrutch's journey to California in 1974. Extremely loosely based on Mike's song of the same name.

Word Count: 600+

Warnings: N/A

A/N: This is pretty much set on the night they stayed in Tulsa, I just took the liberty of giving the guys separate hotel rooms (hey I'm sure Denny could afford that for them if he wanted to). Guess which one we're in 😁 As always, feedback / comments make a writer's day 🙏

Lines have a way of appearing out of thin air sometimes. All the best ones do at least. Mike took one look at you, so at peace where you'd fallen asleep on his shoulder, and it hit him. It was crystal clear.

Home is a state of mind 

He started to reach for his notebook on the nightstand and stopped. It wasn't any good. Was it? Tommy was the writer. Tommy could say it better. Still, it nagged at him - alone with you in that hotel room in Tulsa. It felt important.

Somehow it explained the way he felt around you. How else could he put it, really? With Florida gone, California ahead, and the simple knowledge of change in the air. It was happening fast. They were crazy, the band and everyone else who followed them there. Even you - crazy as the dust storm outside was. They’d never seen anything like it.

None of that seemed to matter once you were in that room together. Alone. Playing cards, writing stories, watching sleepless time go by. There was something in your smile that got to him. It always did. He would have done anything to see it. So naturally he threw popcorn at you from across the room, where you’d sent him away in good natured fun. He knew you’d retaliate. Of course you did. That alone, maybe, is what home should feel like.

You were sitting cross legged in front of him, plucking pieces of popcorn out of his hair, when he stole the first of many kisses that night. 

“Oh you’re welcome,” you said, a joke as if it was in silent thanks to you. But maybe it was. For being there, for believing in him, and yes, for helping with his hair whether you caused it or not.

Once again, words escaped him, as they always seemed to do. So he kissed you again, hands warm on your knees and hesitant to go much further. It was love, your time together. Slow as it'd been to get that far, it had to be. Love had always been there. 

Through more than two years of friendship and one reluctant confession before this trip began. Was the mutual admiration obvious by then? Of course it was. The real wonder was why it took so long to tell you that.

Your very first kiss happened soon after he told you, in a town that would never be called home again. A moment of relief in a cold night and half a moon hung in the sky. Perfect confirmation that his words meant something. They mean something.

So he started for the notebook again, very careful not to wake you, and wrote it down. The line didn't look so bad on paper. Not at all, despite perpetually messy handwriting made worse by attempted stealth. He didn't know how endearing you found his handwriting to be back then. Even when you'd tease him. He wouldn't understand how much you loved everything about him for a long time.

As for the line, those six words scribbled in darkness in the middle of the night. It would become a song. A great one. Just, not yet. Not that night, not the next day either. Not in years. But it would.

For now the notebook was placed back on the nightstand so he could hold you a little closer and kiss the top of your head. How he got so lucky, he didn't know. To have you then; to know he’d be needed in a real studio by morning. It was all so different.

In it, sleep too far out of reach. There wasn’t a chance. At least, that's what he thought before he closed his eyes. But you were there. And you wanted to love him back. You really did. It was all he wanted for so long.

Maybe that could be enough, because sleep did come - just in knowing you were there. It was a familiar feeling, the last he could have until morning.

Home can be anywhere. Anything. In that moment, it was you.

Maybe it'd always been you. 

Tags: my taglist is extremely out of date so I'm starting from scratch. pls don't hesitate to ask to be added for everything I write or just for specific people

@thebomb-diggity I don't remember if I sent this one to you??? asjklsdf but you might like 💛

#aaaaaaaa I finished something to post?!?!?! #how long has it been?????? #can you tell how much I adore the boy 🥺 #!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #mike campbell x reader #sunny writes things #mike campbell #mudcrutch