Eddie Munson x Reader
This story belongs to the Moonstruck universe
Summary: You meet Eddie's cat.
A/N: Eddie + cats = cuteness overload. Requested by @tvserie-s-world
"Just uh- don't mind the mess." Eddie scratched the back of his neck, walking up the stairs to open his trailer's door.
"Eddie, I've been here before." You raised an eyebrow at him, following behind.
It was true, you had been at his home once before, but it was weeks ago before he called you his girlfriend. Eddie knew it was a bit foolish and you'd never judge him, but deep down he always wanted you to see the best side of him, in all senses.
Eddie walked inside the empty trailer and held the door open for you. "Welcome to my humble abode, princess."
You took slow steps in, looking around at the many baseball hats and cans on display; a TV, worn couch, lamps, and haphazardly thrown clothes and pillows all were cramped in the small space, along with the small joined kitchen right beside and the only bedroom in the house, Eddie's. In its own messy way, the place was incredibly cozy.
The door closed behind Eddie with a soft thud and you felt his hands closing around your waist. He rested his head on your shoulder, nuzzling his nose against the back of your neck. "Wayne won't be home until tomorrow morning, we have the house all to ourselves." He quietly dragged the words.
You chuckled under your breath, hands covering his as you swayed your bodies lazily from side to side. "Is that so?"
Eddie hummed, peppering gentle kisses on the skin of your neck.
You were losing yourself in the warmth of his body when you felt something fluffy rubbing against your ankles. You glanced down with a frown, only to see a black cat curiously looking up at you.
"Eddie, you didn't tell me you had a cat!" You exclaimed, unceremoniously moving away from Eddie to crouch down. You picked up the ball of fur, embracing him to your chest, your mouth hung open in silent awe when he started purring.
"Yeah, technically-" Eddie started, pout on his lips because you traded him for the animal.
"Oh god, he's adorable, what's his name?" You placed a kiss behind the cat's ear.
Taking a step towards you, Eddie raised a hand to stroke the black fur under the cat's chin. "Doesn't have one."
You raised your eyebrows, unimpressed. "You didn't name your cat?"
Eddie chuckled and walked to his kitchen, he started rummaging through the cabinets for a bag of popcorn. "He's not exactly-" he glanced your way, you stood in the middle of his trailer, black cat cradled in your arms whilst you played with his paws. Eddie felt his stomach turning pleasantly, he had a lovesick smile on his lips, "well, I guess he is mine now. He was one of the strays here and just sorta… started living here."
Holding the half-full bag of popcorn, Eddie fidgeted with the lighter and turned on the stove. "So I uh- haven't named him yet."
"I think it fits you." With the cat held in one of your arms, you closed the distance between you and Eddie, backing him up against the counter. "Having a cat I mean, gives me all the more reason to hang around."
Eddie's arms closed around your waist, he started planting greedy kisses on the corner of your mouth and on your cheeks. "Am I not reason enough?" He whined.
You felt his words against your skin, biting your lower lip with a smile. You answered him with a proper kiss, a hand behind his head pulling him towards you. Eddie obliged happily, he always did.
And you always had to pry his hands away from you, giggles escaping both of you; otherwise, if you let him, he'd be happy to make out all day and not get anything done.
You sat down on his worn couch, cat resting on your thighs. You threaded your fingers through his fur in thought. "How about Ozzy?"
From his place sitting on top of the counter, Eddie furrowed his brows. Playing with the lighter in his hands as he waited for the popcorn.
"For the cat's name." You clarified, both hands raising the cat in question.
Flicking the lighter on and off, Eddie grinned widely. "Oh, that's perfect, sweetheart."
After a few minutes of you choosing the movie you'd be watching and Eddie making popcorn, you had your feet up on the coffee table and Eddie walked up to you holding a big bowl of popcorn, already munching on some.
"Nuh-uh, he's in my spot," Eddie grumbled, mouthful and pointing a finger at the cat in your lap.
His downright offended frown was childlike, making you smile. "You mean my lap?" You raised a teasing eyebrow.
"Yeah," Eddie said matter of factly.
You snorted, nonetheless carefully lifting Ozzy up in your arms. Eddie threw himself on the couch and laid down, his head now resting on top of your thighs and after he was comfortable, you laid the cat on top of his chest.
Eddie's doe eyes stared up at you, his lips curled up softly. You ran a hand over his fringe and he closed his eyes. Eddie reminded you of a cat sometimes.
"This feels nice," Eddie said quietly.
He said the words you'd been thinking about, running a finger over the outline of his eyebrow, admiring the curve of his nose and the turn of his lips; "it does," You agreed. To this, you two, and the ever-present feeling of home that followed you everywhere.
With both your hands occupied, petting both Eddie's hair and the cat's fur; your boyfriend raised a few popcorns to your mouth as the movie started.
Ozzy was sprawled on top of Eddie's chest, fast asleep. Eddie's fingers bumped into yours amongst the black fur. A light drizzle could be heard outside, hitting the trailer's roof, the faint pitter-patter of rain mixing with the ongoing movie on the TV.
Here, inside Eddie's trailer, with his head resting on your thighs, your fingers buried in his hair, and with a little black cat sleeping on top of him; you had your own personal piece of heaven.
⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ
Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are very much appreciated. <3
Eddie’s taglist: @milkiane @bookfrog242 @alicefallsintotherabbithole @boooil @science--hoes @cherrypieyourface @tssf-imagines @daph-505 @astream-ofconsciousness @fentyreligion @fantasylovestoryme @justabeautiful-letdown @crazyrapunzel @yessica41 @dancing-hillary @bakugouswh0r3 @hehehehannahthings @jakebasement @zervopoulouu @forverdaydreamer-blog @fromthedt @oeuryale @mcueveryday @palah @witchbinchstories @call-me-magpie @loveshineslikethesky @luvmybbies @tvserie-s-world @agirlsguidetolove @hallothankmas @ribyourtoplip @sweetpeapod @harringt8ns @forsaken-letters @hazydespair @fangirling-4-ever @electric-cabaret @ollyoxenfrees @linkpk88 @twinkofmydreams @paola-carter @masterlistmanic @boomhauer
Eddie/Steve request! So yk in smut when they ask "are you ok with this?" I can't help but think , what if reader says no?? Like reader is uncomfortable, wants to take time in the relationship, or just it's scared of the idea right now. But doesn't say anything, and tries to continue bc shes scared they'll be disappointed,but the he notices her hesitation? Maybe they do something fun together afterwards? xx
AN | The best boyfriend Stevie energy is strong. And we love to see it🥰
Warnings | Language
Pairing | Steve x Fem!Reader
Word Count | 3k
Masterlist | Main
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
You had no clue how you’d ended up dating Steve Harrington. The Steve Harrington.
But here you were, sitting in a dark movie theater next to him, sharing a giant bag of popcorn and soda, one of his hands resting on your thigh. There were still times when it hit you like a ton of bricks. He was really your boyfriend. And he was a good one at that - great. He was…everything you could have ever dreamed of - kind, funny, caring, sweet, and handsome as hell. You had no clue what he’d seen in you, but when he’d asked you out, you couldn’t say no. Truth was - you’d been crushing on him for some time, just as he had been crushing on you.
“What?” he whispered as he turned his head to look at you, quickly brushing his knuckles over your cheek. Oh. He’d caught you shamelessly staring at him…again. Your face warmed up, and you were glad for the darkness of the movie theater. You shook your head softly, trying to play him off, “everything alright, love?”
“Yeah,” you gave him a tight lipped little smile as you turned your attention back to the screen. You’d zoned out for about the last fifteen minutes and currently had no clue what was going on. Steve watched you for a few seconds longer before settling back in his seat, the hand that had been on your thigh finding yours and lacing your fingers together. You couldn’t help but smile at the feeling of his large, warm hand enveloping yours.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
You were staying at Steve’s that night, as he was once again all alone in the big house. This was the first you’d be spending the night there as his girlfriend. You’d spent the night many times before over the years, after movie nights, when you’d all had a little too much to drink, when the world seemed to be falling apart. But this…this felt so different. This felt much more intimate and private and special. It felt like there were expectations you were going to have to live up to.
There had been a nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach all day, thinking about the evening with Steve. You liked kissing him - a lot - liked being with him in general, but you hadn’t had sex yet. Well…the subject hadn’t even really been broached in general.
It wasn’t that you didn’t want to; you knew this was serious for him and not just a ‘fuck her and leave her’ situation, but you still just…felt so nervous. He would never pressure you to do something you didn’t want to, or weren’t ready to, but you couldn’t help but think that he would get tired of waiting. That would find someone else to satisfy his needs and then leave you. That he would find someone better.
“What’s wrong?” you were cuddled up next to Steve on the couch, a blanket draped over your bodies as some random movie played in the background. His arm had been wrapped around your shoulders and your head was resting on his chest, and yet for some reason he still knew something was wrong, “you’re thinking too loudly.”
“It’s nothing,” you promised softly, sitting up and shifting so you were facing him. His big brown eyes were soft with concern as he tried to figure out what was going on. You reached over and put your hand on his face, stroking your thumb over his cheek. His fingers wrapped around your wrist as he brought your hand to his mouth to press a soft kiss to your knuckles, “I’m just tired, Stevie. It’s not you.”
“Are you sure?” he asked gently as you just nodded, “you’ve seemed a little...off lately. If something is going on, I hope you can tell me anything. I just…I want to make it better. You don’t have to carry or deal with whatever is going on alone; you have me always.”
“I’m fine, everything’s fine babe,” you were trying to convince yourself of that. You couldn’t bear the idea of voicing your concerns to Steve. You knew he’d give you all sorts of reassurance and tell you it was okay, but you didn’t want him to pity you either, “‘m just tired is all.”
“Love…” he put his hand under your chin and turned your face up to meet his. You could have cried then and there, because you knew he just wanted to help. But this was all on you, all on the fact that you felt so stupid and insecure and shy.
You looked at him for a few long, hard moments before you put your hands on his face and crashed your lips onto his. It took him by surprise, and it took him a second to figure out what was happening before he kissed you back. You pulled away just in order to crawl into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck as you kissed him again. His hands settled on your waist in a loose grip.
“Baby,” you knew that he knew that something was different from how you normally kissed. Things had definitely gotten heated before, but you never pushed it further and Steve never pulled, respectful as ever. Steve pulled back for a few, breathing heavily as he pressed his forehead to yours, his nose nuzzled against yours, “w-wait, we should stop. What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” you insisted as you leaned in to kiss him again. Sometimes he was too perceptive and intuitive for his own good. The look in his eyes told that he didn’t fully believe you, “please just kiss me, Steve.”
You didn’t give him a chance to respond before you found his lips again. He tasted minty and sweet, a delicious taste that was all Steve. You swore you heard him moan lightly as he kissed along your jaw before slowly moving down your neck. He sucked and nipped at the delicate skin, soothing any marks over with his tongue, which caused you to gasp lightly. You could feel how hard he was, and you were turned on too, deciding that tonight was the night you were just going to get it over with and have sex with him.
His warm hands slowly skimmed under the hem of your shirt and you could feel his fingers trailed over your skin. It caused you to freeze for a moment, but you pushed through the initial nerves, and let him keep kissing you. Everything was fine, and you were enjoying everything, his touch, his taste, his feel, but everything came to a crashing halt. He’d moved his hips up to grind against you and you knew it was just an involuntary motion, but it caused you to put your hand on his chest and push him back lightly.
“S-stop, please,,” your voice was soft, barely above a nervous whisper as you shook your head. You weren’t sure what you were expecting when you met his eyes, but he just looked so confused and upset. Fuck. You had really done it this time, “I’m sorry. I-I…I’m sorry.”
“Hey,” he touched your face and he sounded surprisingly gentle, “it’s okay, love. It’s okay. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
“I’m sorry,” your eyes were stinging with tears as you moved off his lap, fixing your shirt before practically jumping off the couch. You wiped at your eyes with the back of your hand before moving towards the door, “I-I have to go. I…I’m sorry, Stevie.”
You were practically running to the door before he fully processed what was going on and went after you. You heard him calling your name, as you got into your car and started it. You chanced one last glance at him, tears running down your cheeks as he looked at you in worry. Without another word, you pulled away and headed home.
Nothing about any of this could have gone worse. Not only had you hurt yourself, you’d hurt him too. And he didn’t even know what was going on, didn’t know if he had something to cause you to be so upset.
“Fuck,” he sighed as closed the door, leaning it against it with a light thud, “fuck.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
You’d managed to avoid Steve for the next four days. Four long, painful, hard days. He would call but you wouldn’t answer, or have whoever did pick up make an excuse for you. He came to your house, but you wouldn’t answer the door. He resorted to climbing to your window and tapping it on but you pretended to be asleep. He stopped by your work and you hid in the back. It had gotten to the point where his small gaggle of children were trying to get in contact with you too. But you just…ignored all of them.
It was the most silly and immature thing to do, but you couldn’t bring yourself to face him and tell him what was going on. You were so worried that he would be mad, or that he would break up with you (which you were sure he would regardless), and every time you ignored him it only got worse.
It was like the universe - everything - knew that you needed to talk to him.
Friday night had not come soon enough, and you were planning on doing nothing but eating pizza and watching old films at home by yourself. It was probably game or movie night at someone’s house, but you couldn’t force yourself to ask or even think about going right now. You wanted to wallow in your self-created misery and be sad for a little bit longer.
When the doorbell rang, you almost ran to the door to get the pizza, ready to eat your feelings while you watched sappy old movies. But when you opened the door, it most definitely was not pizza. Instead it was Steve, standing there with his hands in his pockets as he stared at the ground.
“Steve,” his name still sounded better from your lips than it ever had from anyone else. It was golden, like the sweetest honey, despite the surprise it contained, “w-what are you doing here?”
“I think that’s pretty obvious,” he chuckled nervously as you worried your bottom lip, hand still on the door, “you ran out the other night crying and haven’t spoken to me since. I know you’ve been avoiding me and I just…I-I want to know what I did so I can fix it or help you or whatever you need, baby. I’m just worried about you and I needed to know you’re okay. I’ve been so worried about you.”
“Steve,” a few tears had already welled up and ran down your cheeks as you nodded. He reached up and gently wiped away your tears, “I’m sorry. It’s not you, you’re…fuck, you’re the perfect boyfriend and I’m just a mess. It’s not you, it’s never been you.”
“You’re not a mess,” he insisted softly as you shrugged him off, “can I come in? I think we should talk.”
“Are you sure you don’t just want to break up with me and get it over with?” it might have seemed like a joke, but you were more serious than not. He raised an eyebrow as he shook his head.
“Why would I want to break up with you?” a bit of nervous laughter bubbled up, but he wasn’t giving in, “that’s the last thing on my mind, love. Can we just talk?”
“Yeah,” you agreed, relieved at his gentle words of reassurance, “come in.”
You opened the door so he could come in, but just before you could close the door, the actual pizza delivery person walked up. You felt like a fool as you shyly handed them the money and took the giant box. Closing the door, you quickly set it on the counter and turned back to Steve. He was standing in the living room, hands on his hips as he watched you. He looked so good that it almost made you forget anything was wrong; he was dressed in his wonderful gray sweatpants and his soft, yellow sweater that you loved stealing. He must really just have come over, unable to stand being away from you any longer.
“Not yet,” he said softly, holding his hand out to you. You nodded, putting your hand into his. Despite the fact that you were so nervous about talking to him, he also made you feel so comfortable and protected. Before he could say anything else, he pulled into his arm for a tight hug. You melted into his touch without even thinking about it, “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too, “ you buried your face into his chest, breathing in his warm, familiar scent, “I’m sorry for just running out on you like that.”
“‘s okay,” you could feel some of the tension leave his shoulders as he kissed the side of your head. After a few moments, he let go of you and gently moved the two of you to sit on the couch.
You studied him silently, admiring every little freckle on his soft, warm skin, every little imperfection that you’d fallen in love with. Unable to stop yourself, you gently ruffled his hair, “you’re so pretty, Stevie.”
“You’re really fucking pretty too,” he grinned softly, “but that can wait until later. Can you please tell me what’s been going on?”
“Yeah,” you inhaled deeply before nodding at him, “I really, really like you. I-I think I’ve fallen in love with you. I mean…I know I have. And that’s both so wonderful and so fucking terrifying at the same time. And I know…you’re never pressured me to do anything, so please don’t think this is so on you. But I…I’m just nervous because I’ve never…I…I haven’t had sex before. And I want to, with you, I really do. But every time we get closer and closer to actually having sex, I just panic and get nervous and talk myself out of it. And…I worry about you. I’m worried that you won’t want me anymore if I keep making you wait, or maybe you don’t even want…a virgin. And I feel so stupid for worrying about all of this and keeping it all in instead of just talking to you.”
“You think…you think that would make me want you less?” he looked surprised at your admission, but not upset or anything that you had been expecting, “why would it matter that you’re a virgin? It doesn’t matter at all, and I don’t care if you want to take things slow. If you’re not ready or comfortable with doing something, we won’t do it. It’s totally okay to take things at a slower pace, love.”
“What if…you get tired of waiting?” your question was serious but he shook his head, a confident look on his face.
“I’m not going to get tired,” he promised gently, “the best things in life are worth waiting for. And you have been the best thing in my life.”
“You’re such a sappy romantic,” you laughed, wiping away the nervous, anxious tears that had bubbled up, “but I love that about you. Among so many other things.”
“Yeah?” a light pink flush had welled up in his cheeks as you leaned in and kissed him quickly, “but baby, I mean it. I don’t care about any of that. We’ll take it slow - I want it to be as good as possible for you. I want to make you feel good, but only when you’re ready and what you’re comfortable with, okay? If you ever need me to stop or you don’t like something, you just have to tell me. That’s all…when we have sex, we’ll both be ready for it.”
“What about your n-”
“Listen, this is going to sound like I’m just a total douche,” he closed his eyes and exhaled nervously, “but I can…ugh...take care of myself in the meantime, you know? And that will never include anyone but you. I mean it - I’m…I’m all in for you, baby.”
“Yeah?” you were smiling, the knot in your stomach easing and some of the weight off your shoulders. He lightly trailed his fingers along your jaw before nodding, “I just…why me? You could have any girl, but you picked me.”
“I don’t want anyone else,” he insisted, “I only want you. I’ve…fallen in love with you too. I have been for a long time, even before I realized my feelings for you were more than friendly. I love you, angel. To me, you’re fuckin’ perfect and I wouldn’t change a thing. I mean, I should be asking you why me.”
“Stevie…to me, you’re perfect,” you threw his sweet words right back at him, which only caused him to grin from ear to ear, “really. You are just…everything I could have ever dreamed of. But are you-”
“Yes,” he cut off your anxious rambling by gently pressing his lips to yours, “I am positive about you.”
“You’re going to make me fall in love with you all over again,” you sighed wistfully, “can I ask you for something now?”
“Will you kiss me?” your voice was barely above a whisper but he heard you loud and clear, “I-I don’t know if I’m ready for anything more tonight, but I really do want you. I want to be close to you.”
“When you’re ready, I’ll be ready,” his large hand gently cupped the back of your neck as he pulled you into him and kissed slowly and softly, “I love you.”
“I love you too, Steve Harrington.”
The Significance of Mike Losing Will
I have been doing quite a bit of revisiting Mike's character dynamics lately, and this I think will provide some much needed insight into the implications of what Mike was actually telling Will in the bedroom scene and just how important this truly is.
Before we jump in here, I'm going to be pulling some deductions I made from this post about Mike's relationship to Nancy, so if you haven't read that yet, I suggest reading it first.
So if you've read this, then you'll know my take on Mike's being closed off is a result of many of his relationships failing to hold space for him: basically, Mike doesn't believe that his feelings and expressions really matter to anyone else because he's often being pushed aside. Except for with his Mom (who is often preoccupied with Holly) and Will (who has now moved away to Lenora).
I've posted about this a few times, but I've broken down my take on why Mike believes Will is the one to drop the ball on communication with him here. Mike during the end of season 3 expresses his fears over losing Will when he asks, "But what if you want to join another party?" when Will is going to donate his DnD books. This is not Mike actually asking Will about his DnD books, this is Mike asking "What if you forget about me? What if you move on and make other friends?" So when Will says "Not possible," Mike sees this as a reassurance that they will remain friends, that he's not going to lose Will, but he does.
When we hear Hopper's Letter at the end of season 3 about feeling distant and not wanting to change, we see these shots of Mike looking longingly after the Byers' moving van and back to their house. Of course Mike is upset about El leaving as well, but the implications of the lines from Hopper's Letter directly follow the narrative of this exchange: a fear of losing, which is not the narrative undertone of the scene between Mike and El who promise to stay in touch. Mike doesn't feel scared of losing El because communication with his girlfriend is expected of him, but his relationship with Will is not explicitly a romantic one, they have no obligation to one another to stay in touch, except, Mike wants there to be because Will makes Mike feel like himself. And we again get this image of Mike falling into Karen's arms because now that Will is gone, she's really the only other person that Mike has who seems to understand his emotional needs.
When Will doesn't reach out to Mike during his time in Lenora, I think Will is really recognizing the full gravity of his feelings for Mike and that even after the destruction of Castle Byers, he's not able to get over these feelings or make them go away, so Will uses this distance as a way of attempting to rip off the Band-aid. He wants to believe that Mike is not reaching out to him and that Mike doesn't care about their friendship because it's easier for Will to believe this if he wants to get over his feelings. So Will doesn't call Mike, he waits for Mike to call him. Of course, this attempt at getting over his own feelings doesn't work, because we very clearly see from the painting that Will is not getting over Mike, but for a while, he tries. And I think the painting is his last-ditch effort: taking the possibility of reciprocation off the table. To rip off the Band-aid once and for all.
But Mike? Mike is so confused. Because he (likely) has been calling Will, except Joyce has her telemarketer job and the calls don't go through. And Will isn't calling him, despite knowing Joyce's schedule. And Will promised Mike that he wouldn't move on, that Mike wouldn't lose him, but Mike feels like he lost Will, and he doesn't know what to do with that because losing Will feels like cutting off the one real connection he's had to the authentic version of himself.
Mike doesn't just feel like he lost Will. Mike feels like he lost...well, Mike. Because Will is the only person that he feels comfortable talking to that actually holds space for his needs and emotions.
So when Mike gets to high school and Lucas joins the basketball team and Dustin has Steve to guide him, and Max is so distant that she barely hangs out with the party anymore, Mike feels so incredibly lost because there's really not anyone in his corner. Not until Eddie shows up and takes him under his wing and reintroduces Mike to DnD and being a freak and the pride in that. And I think that's why we see Mike so devoted to Eddie and to the campaign, why he styles his hair and clothes like Eddie, why he looks up to him so much, why he has this admiration for (and maybe a crush on) him, because Eddie in a way makes Mike feel less lost. Eddie makes him feel the closest to connected to something that he's felt since Will left.
So for the people saying Mike joined another party to feel closer to Will, I think this is a truer statement than assuming his joining another party was a slight against Will. Mike needed something to fill that sense of loss, and that's why we see him throw all of himself into Hellfire, to the point where he's more devoted to Hellfire than he is to going to Lucas's game, because Eddie found Mike when Mike was lost, and that creates a huge sense of loyalty. He also feels seen by Eddie in a way he doesn't feel seen by Dustin and Lucas anymore, because they're both moving on to other things and other people, and Mike doesn't have that. For Mike, a sense of loyalty is huge, and though it hurts when Lucas and Dustin go their own ways and aren't as devoted to the party (Dustin is still more into Hellfire and more present than Lucas, but he also has Steve), Mike never expected that Will would abandon him in the way he did. Will has always been there. Will has always been loyal to Mike. And Mike has always felt the greatest sense of loyalty towards Will, so Will not talking to him? That stings more than anything.
When Will gets to the airport with his painting and looks so excited to see Mike (he can't help it, he's tried to tamp down the feelings, but he can't), Will is willing to put aside whatever he believes about why Mike hasn't written him because he just wants Mike to be there with him again, but Mike? Mike's giving "WTF you didn't talk to me for five months and now you want to hug me?" energy. He feels hurt and abandoned by Will in a way that he never expected to and he can't understand how Will can look so happy to see him yet have not put any effort into maintaining their friendship.
But after the Rink o Mania scene (which I've talked to death at this point), Mike finally decides to cut Will a break a little and realizes there's more to the story.
Mike just, really wants Will to be back in his life more than anything, because I think he finally realizes once he's in Lenora, back around Will, how easy it is for him to fall back into his old self. To open up. To feel seen and heard.
So while Mike makes Will feel like he's not a mistake, Will also makes Mike feel like he's not a mistake. When everyone around Mike misunderstands him and shuts him down, Mike feels like he doesn't matter. When he loses Will, this becomes a lot more apparent. And Will makes Mike feel like he matters, because whether or not Will interprets Mike's feelings correctly (Mr. Byers, please get out of your own way), he never fails to validate Mike's feelings. He gives Mike a voice when Mike doesn't feel like he has one.