#mike had never had a crush either

[gayofthefae]

Throwing something out there. I don't think Jonathan ever knew about Will without knowing about Mike too.

[lefteagleblizzard]

𝔄 𝔱𝔬𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫 𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢

Mike munroe x male reader

Summary: Trapped in the freezing sanatorium, Mike notices your body trembling from the cold and takes matters into his own hands-literally. His touch starts out innocent, a way to warm you up, but soon it turns into something far more heated.

Tags: Male reader. He/him pronouns are used towards the reader. Wolfie being a good boy. Mike and Jess are not together in this. Friends to lovers. Smut. Gay smut. Top Mike munroe. Bottom male reader. Anal sex.

Note: I played the original game years ago, and now that I'm playing the remake, my crush on Mike has come back. He's such a good character with amazing development. I never expected to like him this much. I'm near chapter 7 of the remake, and I'm honestly loving it.

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

ℳ𝒶𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇𝓁���𝓈𝓉

Words counts: 3000

The cold of the sanatorium was oppressive. It seemed to leech the warmth from the very walls, seeping into your skin and bones, making every breath feel like you were inhaling shards of ice. As you and Mike rummaged through the mess of papers and debris in the dim, decaying room, the chill became impossible to ignore.

You had been at this for what felt like hours. Searching for anything, any clue, any scrap of information that could help you make sense of the nightmare you and your friends had stumbled into.

You wanted to focus. You needed to. But the cold was starting to weaken you. Your muscles ached from the effort of trying to stay warm, and despite your best attempts to keep it together, your hands were trembling as you shuffled through the scattered papers. The torn, thin jacket you'd found earlier did little to protect you, barely covering your torso, let alone insulating you from the freezing air.

Snowflakes continued to drift in from the broken windows, scattering across the dusty floor.

The place felt like a tomb. The smell of decay hung in the air, making every breath feel heavy, cold, and full of death.

Mike tried to stay focused, but even as his eyes scanned the scattered papers on the floor, his attention was pulled to you. You were over by the corner of the room, crouched low beside an old table, sifting through stacks of yellowed documents, your movements deliberate but slow. The jacket clung to you awkwardly, barely covering your arms and torso.

Even from across the room, he could hear your teeth chattering slightly, despite how hard you were trying to suppress it.

You always did that, pushing yourself even when it was clear you were struggling. Mike admired that about you, but it was also something that worried him. He knew you were trying to stay strong for him and the rest of the group, but the last thing Mike wanted was for you to get hurt or worse.

His thoughts raced, that protective instinct flaring up again. You didn't deserve this. You deserved to be somewhere warm, safe... with him.

He had been feeling that way for months now, ever since that night after he broke up with Emily. That night had changed everything for him. You were the one who stayed with him, sitting by his side, listening to him vent as he struggled to process the end of his long-term relationship.

You didn't just offer hollow platitudes; you gave him the kind of comfort and understanding he never knew he needed. He realized then, somewhere between the midnight conversation and the quiet moments of silence, that you were different. You weren't just his friend; you were the one person who made him feel like himself again.

After that night, he found himself constantly thinking about you. How easy it was to talk to you, how you made him laugh even when he felt like shit.

He'd find excuses to see you, call you up for help with college work, or invite you out for something casual. He always assumed you'd catch on quickly to his flirting, but you never did. Either he was terrible at flirting with a guy like you, or you were just completely oblivious.

Without a word, he began to unbutton his own jacket, which was far thicker and more insulated than the pathetic excuse you were wearing.

He held it out toward you.

"Here," he said simply. "Take it"

You shook your head immediately. "No. I'll be fine. You need it more than I do."

Mike narrowed his eyes, clearly not buying it. "You're freezing, man. You look like you're about to turn into an ice cube."

You tried to laugh it off, though it came out weak and unconvincing. "It's really not that bad. I can handle the cold. And it'd be selfish of me to take your jacket. There’s no way you're any warmer than I am."

With the simple tank top he was wearing underneath, now all dirty with mud and snow, it became even harder for you to stop staring at him. His muscular and strong arms drew your attention.

Mike sighed, holding the jacket out stubbornly towards you. "You're not fine. You're shaking like a leaf." He reached out, gently brushing his fingers over your arm, feeling the coldness of your skin even through the thin fabric of your jacket. "Just take it."

But you shook your head again, more firmly this time. "It wouldn't be fair," you murmured, looking down at the papers you were holding. "You need it just as much as I do. I can handle the cold. We've been through worse than this, right?"

Why couldn't you just let him take care of you for once?

"Come on," he tried again, his voice soft but insistent. "After everything we've been through tonight, hypothermia is the least of my worries. I'm not letting you freeze out here, not when I can do something about it."

You glanced up at him, your eyes softening for a moment, and for a second, Mike thought you might actually take the jacket. But then you shook your head again.

"I'll be fine, Mike."

Mike sighed heavily, his breath visible in the cold air as he ran a hand through his hair. "Damn it, you're stubborn.”

You gave him a small smile, trying to divert the conversation as you continued sorting through the papers. "I've been called worse."

Finally, with a deep sigh, Mike relented, shoving his jacket back on with a grumble.

Minutes passed in silence, the only sounds being the creak of old floorboards beneath your feet and the occasional rustle of paper. Wolfie, the wolf Mike had somehow managed to befriend, lay beside you, his fur brushing against your leg as he occasionally shifted.

Every so often, you'd reach down to scratch behind Wolfie's ears. His fur was soft under your fingertips.

You gripped the edges of the papers in your hand, hoping that somehow, just focusing on the task in front of you would make it better.

It didn't.

It was then that you noticed Mike shifting beside you and before you could react, his body was pressing up against your back, his arms wrapping around your waist in a firm but gentle hold. His warmth hit you immediately, and you couldn't stop the small gasp that escaped your lips at the sudden contrast.

"Mike?" you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper as you stiffened in surprise at the closeness.

"Relax," he murmured, his breath warm against the side of your neck. "If you won't take my jacket, I'll just have to warm you up myself." he whispered, his voice rough and low.

Your heart started to race, not just from the unexpected contact, but from the undeniable heat that surged through your body as Mike's lips brushed against the side of your neck. The sensation was electrifying, sending a shiver down your spine that had nothing to do with the cold this time.

His lips moved slowly, deliberately, trailing soft kisses down the length of your neck, each one sending a wave of heat through your body. Your body was leaning into his touch, craving more of the warmth and comfort he was offering.

This wasn't the Mike you were used to. This was something far more intimate, more personal.

"Mike... I don't..." you began, but your words trailed off as his lips found a particularly sensitive spot just below your ear, making your breath hitch in your throat.

"You don't what?" he asked softly, his hand sliding up from your waist to rest on your chest, pulling you even closer against him. "You don't want this?"

Of course you wanted it. More than anything, really. You'd been harboring feelings for Mike for so long, feelings you'd kept hidden, thinking there was no way he'd ever see you as anything more than a friend, a study partner, a background presence in his life.

But now, with his body pressed against yours and his lips trailing fire down your neck, it was clear that Mike had been seeing you in a very different light for a while.

"I didn't think..." you started, your voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't think you felt like this about me."

He hadn't planned on this happening, not exactly. But as he held you in his arms, feeling the heat of your body against his, he couldn't deny how good it felt, how right it felt to be this close to you. For years, he had pushed his feelings for you to the back of his mind, thinking it wasn't something you'd ever want. You were smart, focused, always so kind.

He pressed closer, his lips trailing lower along your collarbone, his fingers gently digging into your waist. The torn jacket you were wearing slid down slightly, giving him better access to your skin, and he took full advantage of it, kissing his way down your neck with slow, deliberate movements.

Mike's lips paused against your skin, and he pulled back, his expression soft but intense. "You really didn't notice, did you?" He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I've been trying to get you to see it for months. I thought you'd pick up on it, but... guess I'm not as smooth as I thought."

You blinked at him, your mind reeling. "You've... been trying to tell me?"

"Yeah," he admitted, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek. "I've been dropping hints since we stayed up all night after Emily and I broke up. You were there for me, man. And ever since then I just... I couldn't stop thinking about you."

"I didn't think you'd ever feel like that about me," you confessed, your voice shaky with disbelief.

Mike smiled softly, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he pulled you a little closer. "I noticed the way you looked at me," he said quietly, his breath warm against your skin. "All those times you'd stare at me, thinking I didn't see. You were so fucking adorable, but it drove me crazy."

You blinked up at him, clearly shocked by the confession. Mike chuckled softly, his lips brushing over your jawline, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your waist. "You're not that good at hiding it, you know."

Before you could respond, Mike kissed you. His lips hungry, filled with all the emotions he hadn't been able to express before. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer.

You responded almost immediately, your lips parting under his, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you pulled him closer.

Mike deepened the kiss, his hands slipping beneath your jacket, his fingers tracing the outline of your hips, your waist, your chest. His tongue dipped past your lips.

After a long moment, Mike pulled back just enough to whisper, his voice low and rough, "You're okay with this, right?"

You didn't even hesitate this time. You nodded, breathless.

Mike's grin widened, and without another word, he kissed you again, even more deeply this time. His hands moved up your sides, tugging at the edges of your jacket as he pressed you against the wall.

You pulled him closer, your hands tangling in his hair as the heat between you both grew.

Mike's lips left yours, trailing down your jaw and back to your neck, his hands roaming your body as if he couldn't get enough of you. Your breath coming in shallow gasps as he kissed his way down to your collarbone, his grip on your waist tightening.

You wanted more, needed more, and judging by the way Mike was holding you with his erection pressing insistently against you, he felt the same.

He pulled back slightly, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips as he glanced over at Wolfie, who had been lying quietly in the corner of the room.

He bent down, ruffling the fur of the wolf who had been sitting quietly in the corner of the room. "Go on, buddy," Mike whispered. "Follow me for a second."

The wolf trotted after Mike as he stepped out of the room, leaving you alone for a few moments, heart still racing. You could hear him talking softly to Wolfie just outside the door, something about how you were "the guy" he'd told the wolf about before.

When Mike came back into the room, locking the door behind him, the intensity in his eyes made your pulse quicken even more.

Without wasting another second, Mike crossed the room in a few quick strides and grabbed you by the waist, pulling you into a deep, hungry kiss. His lips were insistent, full of desire, and you couldn't help but melt into him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you kissed him back with just as much need.

Mike's hands roamed over your body, gripping your hips, pulling you closer. His tongue teased at your lips before slipping into your mouth, deepening the kiss.

He broke the kiss just long enough to mutter, "God, I've wanted you for so long."

Then, his lips were on yours again. His hands gripping you even tighter, pressing you against the nearest wall as his mouth trailed down your neck, nipping and biting at the sensitive skin there.

His hands were on you, pulling at your clothes, lowering them to expose just what was needed with an almost frantic urgency, before he gripped your ass, his fingers digging into the soft skin with a possessive intensity as he lifted you slightly, pressing his body against your.

"Relax," Mike whispered, his voice low and commanding as his fingers trailed down, teasingly brushing against your entrance. "Let me take care of you."

He teased you for a moment, his fingers gently exploring before he slowly pushed one inside, his eyes never leaving yours.

"You're so fucking tight," he groaned, his voice low and gravelly.

He moved his finger slowly at first, watching your face for every reaction, but as you relaxed into his touch, he added another finger, stretching you carefully.

Mike's other hand reached up to cup your face, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek as he leaned in to kiss you again, this time slower, more tender.

By the time Mike pulled his fingers out of you, you were trembling with anticipation, your body aching for him.

You heard the rustle of fabric as he undid his pants, and then you felt the tip of his hard cock rubbing against your thigh.

"Ready for me?" he asked, his voice low and rough.

You could barely nod, your entire body trembling with need. Mike lined himself up, his hands gripping your hips firmly, and then, with one slow, steady thrust, he pushed inside.

The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain as he stretched you, filled you completely. He moved slowly at first, watching your face for any sign of discomfort, but all you could do was moan softly, your hands clutching at his shoulders.

"You're perfect," Mike groaned as he began to move, his hips moving with slow, deliberate motions. "You feel so fucking good."

Mike's hands were everywhere, gripping your hips, sliding up your chest, cupping your face as he kissed you hungrily. His cock filled you completely, each slow thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body.

His hands moved lower, his fingers finding their way between your legs as he stroked you in time with his thrusts.

The more his pace picked up, the more his movements became rougher, more desperate. He kissed you again, biting at your lips, your neck, his hands gripping your ass tightly as he pulled you closer with each thrust.

"Fuck," Mike groaned, his voice low and husky. His soft grunts filling the cold room as he moved inside you.

The pleasure built to an unbearable peak as his thrusts became faster, harder. You could feel the heat spreading through your body, your muscles tensing as you teetered on the edge.

And then, with one final, deep thrust, Mike groaned loudly, his hands gripping you tightly as he came, his cock pulsing inside you. The sensation sent you over the edge as well, and you cried out as your own orgasm ripped through you, your voice muffled against his neck.

After a few moments of catching your breath and letting the weight of everything settle in, Mike pressed another soft kiss to your forehead before pulling away slightly, his hands lingering on your hips. You could see the satisfied smile tugging at his lips, that playful, cocky expression you had grown so used to over the years. He gave you a wink before straightening up, pulling his pants back up and adjusting himself as if nothing had happened.

You followed suit, your body still buzzing with the aftermath. There was something so surreal about it all. Being here, with Mike Munroe, of all people. You had known him for years, but you had never imagined things would end up like this.

Once you were both dressed and more or less presentable, Mike walked over to the door, unlocking it with a soft click.

"Ready to face Wolfie again? He might be a little upset that we kicked him out." He glanced back at you, a mischievous smile playing on his lips, before swinging the door open.

Outside, Wolfie was sprawled out across the floor, his furry body taking up most of the tight hallway. The wolf's ears twitched at the sound of the door opening, and he turned his head to glance at the two of you. His golden eyes scanned you two and then, with what could only be described as a huff, he plopped his head back down onto the floor, letting out a long sigh as if he had been deeply offended by the delay.

"Is he pouting?" you asked, incredulous.

Mike smirked, clearly amused by the wolf's behavior. "What? You jealous, buddy?" he teased as he crouched down beside Wolfie. The wolf, still looking somewhat begrudging, turned his head away, as if refusing to acknowledge Mike.

Mike reached out, scratching Wolfie behind the ears, his voice dropping into a low, playful tone. "Come on, don't be mad. I was just doing my part to keep him warm. You know how cold it is here."

You watched as Wolfie's resolve began to crumble under Mike's touch, his tail thumping softly against the floor as Mike scratched behind his ears. Mike chuckled, his cocky grin growing wider. "See? I warmed him up real good. All thanks to me."

Wolfie responded with a soft growl. He finally turned his head back toward Mike and he ruffled his fur, looking pleased with himself.

"Yeah, yeah," you said, rolling your eyes but unable to stop the smile from spreading across your face.

Mike stood up, shooting you a wink as he slung his arm around your shoulder. "Damn right, I did." He leaned in to press a soft, quick kiss to your lips.

Together, you and Mike walked down the hallway, Wolfie trotting along beside you. And as Mike gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze, you couldn't help but feel grateful that, through all the chaos and terror of the night, you had found someone worth fighting for.

If you liked this story please leave a comment, I love reading them <3.

[avengersbtch]

You're Lucky Your Beautiful - Armando Aretas

Armando Aretas x Reader

Warnings: This fic does not follow to the film’s timeline.  I have altered the scenes!!

A/N Pre relationship flirting?? Or maybe pre- pre-relationship flirting lol idk but it’s cute, I think. I’m a sucker for pre relationship fics and the build up!!! 

Summary: Y/N pinged the location of Mike & Marcus’, leading to Armando meeting y/n for the first time and a roller coaster of emotions in one night.

Word Count: 3.4k

The hunt for Mike, Marcus and Armando was plastered on every news outlet known, you felt useless watching every news reporter talk down on Mike and Marcus as you were trying to look for them. Marcus felt more like father figures to you than your actual parents did so watching everyone jump at the opportunity to talk down on their reputation they built was crushing, you also knew for an absolute fact that everything they were saying was false and you would bet your life on that too. You had no feelings toward Armando, you neither liked nor hated him. Mike obviously felt deeply for his long-lost son, but you had never met him, so seeing him on the news didn’t really inflict any feelings. All you knew was that he was the key to the case and after Mike insisted he ID the suspect, Armando agreed reluctantly. 

You were snuggled on your cream cotton couch sitting on your laptop trying to track down or contact the boys without the Feds knowing. They had pulled you off their case, knowing how close you were and took most of your personal belongings or tapped the rest assuming Marcus might contact you. This laptop was your backup, backup laptop, so thankfully they didn’t find this one.

Just as you were going to call it a night, your laptop pinned an advancement on their case, a location. Of-course Mike had gone to Tabitha’s, probably not wanting to get you involved in whatever mess he’s in. You immediately jumped and ran to get dressed to be some sort of assistance, now you weren’t physically or skill-fully equipped for combat, you could admit that, however expertise excelled behind a computer, and everyone knew that. Either way you know they could at least use a safe place to stay and whatever else you could offer.

You slipped in black jeans and a long sleeve black fitted top with a hoodie, with the aim of staying as inconspicuous as possible. You quickly slipped into your sneakers as you jump into your car, following the reports of their location. You’d probably get fired for doing what you were about to do, especially given there is a high chance an actual criminal is tagging along to their adventures. That obviously being Armando, but you decided would deal with that later. 

Speeding down the highway, you could hear the sirens closing in and the gunshots becoming more consistent. As you neared the scene, you could see multiple cop cars, large four-wheeled drives, and vans at all different angles. This would be a nightmare for you to find them. You drove into an alleyway, noticing the traffic moving in the same direction and slowly parked behind a large dump bin. Exiting the car, you left the ignition running to assist in easier escape. As you walked out the alleyway, you peeked out of the corner of the wall seeing a large black van on fire. 

“Guess it wasn’t that hard to find them” you chuckled rolling your eyes at the current state of the vehicle they were using. You watched them jump out the moving van just as the van light and exploded right before your eyes. You count three. Meaning they were in fact accompanied by Armando. Great. You eyed the three of them, as they ran in your direction, you eyed the scene making sure there were no witnesses and no threats. When you deemed it safe, you stepped out of the alleyway in full vision. They all paused, Mike squinted as if recognising your figure and slowly stepped closer. 

“Y/n?!” He questioned in surprise, obviously not expecting to see a familiar face.

“Y/n? Mike what are you on about?” Marcus followed until he spotted you “Y/n!” He confirmed once he ID’d you. More for himself really. 

“let’s have a family reunion later, hurry up my car’s around there” you pointed in a hurry as you ran off expecting them to follow you. You couldn’t waste any time, you need to get the out of here before they were spotted again. You slip into the driver’s seat waiting for them to get in, taking longer than usual you turn to see Armando still outside of the car. 

“Dude, get in the car. We need to go” you hissed. Did he not understand the severity of the situation?

“How can we trust her?” Armando asked looking over my shoulder at Mike.

“Who else do you have right now? get in or I’m leaving. I really don’t care whether you live or die” I whisper yelled, pre-emptively interrupting their conversation.

“Armando, get in. We can trust her” Mike sighed. Armando’s eyes flicked over to you and back to Mike then back over to you until he decided to trust you and slipped in the back seat near Marcus. You rolled your eyes, setting your car into drive and shaking your head, as if you were begging for him to trust you. 

The drive back was silent, almost awkward giving you were aiding the escape of a fugitive. Deciding to break the long silence, you joked “So I see you guys decided to quit you day job and harbour a wanted fugitive”. 

“Ha ha y/n, just get us to yours please. We need to get to Dorn’s tomorrow morning. Armando is our only lead to ID the suspect, they’re going lengths to try and kill him” Marcus explained, and his eyes remained on the road watching for any unwanted noise. Your eyes flicked to Armando through the rear-view mirror. His eyes also trained on the road and his surroundings. You had to admit, he was extremely good looking, even with his bud light shirt and his burnt jeans, the only thing you could focus on was his shining eyes. God damn. You trained your eyes back to the road in front of you and kept driving almost smacking yourself for checking him out.

“How did you find us?” Armando asked in curiosity, though his face did not emote. If it wasn’t for the question, it was almost like he didn’t give a fuck. 

“Oh uh, I, I uhm I’ve been tracing the feeds on your location. Just about everyone is looking for you. Though they’ve been pretty late to finding you guys after the uh crash” you stuttered honestly shocked at his interest. Not sure whether he’s asking you because he wants to know or testing you. 

“Armando, y/n’s the brains behind the operation. We’ve known her since she was a kid. She’s not with them, relax we can trust her” Mike supported you, confirming your concerns. He was just testing you.

Arriving at home, you parked in your driveway, telling them to follow you as you walked up a short flight of stairs to your door. You felt a sense of nerves inviting Armando into your home and you weren’t sure whether that was because he was a criminal or extremely attractive, which was truly concerning. Walking into your home, everything remained as you left it with your laptop on the couch where you were seated, the chips and red bull beside you on the mahogany coffee table. The house wasn’t messy but looked lived in with there being left over steak and chips on the table that you hadn’t yet cleaned up from dinner, some cups in the sink that required cleaning from the night prior that were on display with the dim kitchen light still on, illuminating the small kitchen and the remaining condiments that you had not packed up yet. Your home was small along with your kitchen, so any small mess would look like a lot. 

“Sorry guys, the house is a bit of a mess. I had just finished dinner before your location pinged” you lied slightly trying to excuse the mess. “there’s leftover food if you guys are hungry and give me a sec, I’ll get you guys something to change into” you offered as you walked to fetch them clothes to change into, unsure of what  or why they were wearing those clothes. 

“What man does she have that lives here?” Armando’s thick accent echoing from the room. It sounded more pronounced than usual, Furrowing your brows, you continued to listen as you selected clothes for the three of them. 

“Why do you care?” Mike asks accusingly which makes you chuckle slightly. 

“I’m just saying, is he gonna walk in here, and see us all here and rat us out? we need to be smarter than that, or do we trust everyone that you say we can, because that didn’t work out with Tabitha” he answered defensively, and Mike threw a knowing hum as I finished collecting their clothes. 

I walk out of the spare room with the clothes and smile sweetly in hopes that maybe he’ll finally trust me and explain “My brother comes and stays at mine when he’s in town. No one is going to come in, like I said,  you can trust me” 

He stares at me again as if he doesn’t give a fuck, his eyes give away nothing and I wait expectantly for some sort of comeback. 

“Don’t worry about him y/n, he knows no one’s walking in. He just asking questions he shouldn’t” Mike waved him off as Marcus in the kitchen where he was already hammering my snacks. 

Armando still staring and this becoming increasingly awkward, you handed him some clothes, not noticing which ones you offered him, he took them without fight and walked to the shower without a single thank you, causing you to mutter “a thank you would be nice, it’s not like I’m begging for you to stay” 

“Enojado te queda bien” he mumbled as he slammed the door. You furrowed your brows, unsure of what he just told you, he could have insulted you for all you know. You had known this man for all of five minutes and he was already getting on your nerves. Slipping off your hoddie, you noticed Mike and Marcus plating some of the leftovers which you were happy about, you followed in to help them and although the man in the bathroom was pissing you off, you did feel bad for him given he was just in prison and was now on the run because someone was trying to kill him so Ultimately, you decided to plate him some too before they demolished it all. 

“Your son is showering I think, so you guys can go next. The clothes are on the couch” you announced as you plated the food. Marcus paused plating and eyed out the plate in your hand.

“I thought you ate” he asked knowingly, well it was more of a statement that caused you to roll your eyes.

“Don’t give me that look Marcus, I’m putting him a plate before you demolish the food” you explained in defence. 

“Mhmm” he hummed offering me a side eye while he returned to plating his food. 

“Marcus don’t mhm me! As much of a dick he is, I’m not heartless” you argued again defensively, there was most definitely nothing of what Marcus was insinuating. He was a criminal for god’s sake! Yes, a gorgeous one but nevertheless a criminal.

You moved to dish as the boys went to eat dinner on the couch, given the size of your house, there was really no room to fit a dining table in the kitchen or living room, so you opted to have a multi-use coffee table instead. As you were washing the dishes you heard the bathroom door open, forcing yourself not to turn your head only so you didn’t offer Marcus anymore ammo to suggest anything further, continuing to clean you dishes. You felt the warmth of his presence near you as you assumed he was reaching for the food you’d plated him, the closer he got, the harder it was to keep your eyes trained on the dishes, let alone your focus. You moved your eyes slightly to see him eyeing the food out with caution, any tension remaining sprinting out of your body as you rolled your eyes at his distrust.

“it’s not poisoned Armando” you stated obviously unable to hide the second eye roll. His eyes lifting with his head still facing down and lips tilted in a slight smirked. Soon after his head followed the position of his eyes, looking straight at you with a smirk. His eyes slowly skimming your now slightly more exposed body up & down until he finally reached your eyes again. Your brows furrowed yet again, analysing the situation that just occurred.

“Are you? Are you trying to piss me off on purpose?” you questioned with your voice an octave higher.

He chuckled at your question and flicked his head in demand “Can I have a fork Mami?” he asked with the same smirk on his face.

You were embarrassed to admit the baby name caught you off guard, he had your head turning to the forks trying to identify the purpose of the utensil he requested, then turning back to him trying to figure out what game he was playing.

You turned you back to the forks and him at least twice until you demanded an answer “Why are you trying to piss me off, what’s your game?” you asked furiously as you grabbed him a fork.

“Like I said, Angry looks good on you mami” he stated as a matter of fact. Your eyes widen in shock and if you were flustered before, you were a walking mess after that comment. You stood in the kitchen staring at his back absolutely flabbergasted at the sudden change, you needed a second to breath, to process the two comments he made. One minute he was as cold as Antarctica, next he was playing jokes and calling you very cute nicknames that may or may not have sounded 10 times better in his accent. You pinched yourself and walked to the living room hearing Mike call you in the background, deciding to sit on the floor far from Armando and turned straight to Mike.

“Did you like the food?” You asked Mike, trying to ignore the hot stare on your left. You could feel him staring and eating at the same time.

“Thank you so much y/n, for the food but also for putting yourself on the line for us, I know what risk you are taking.” He thanked with sincerity.

You smiled at his sincerity “Mike, you know I would stop everything for you guys, next time just come straight to me please?” you asked honestly, and he smiled back and nodded acknowledging your heartfelt request. You, out of instinct turned your focus to the burning stares on your left, forgetting your internal feud and notice him staring intently this time, no playfulness or smugness, just wonder and awe at your loyalty. His focus re-trained, noticing you starting he smiled, not one reaching his eyes but one that you could tell meant something. This smile sparked something in you, it was probably also seeing him eat like he hadn’t eaten in months, which may have truly been the case, given that he was in prison, but whatever it was it had you inclined to personally ask him if he liked the food.

“Are you enjoying the meal, Armando?” you asked as you looked at him innocently, and while it may as well could have been innocent. Armando’s heart melted at little at your concern, he could see the worry in your eyes, the need for him to say yes that he was enjoying it. Not that he would be lying if he said yes, he hadn’t eaten a proper meal in months, let alone a home cooked piece of steak but that face would have made him say yes anyway.

The jokes and games for a second forgotten, lost in your eyes and he smiled softly as he answered “Yes, thank you y/n”. She smiled and looked toward her lap with a slight blush on her face leaving Armando weak for more. He coughed almost to break the spell you had put him under and looked at Mike, his brows were raised almost as warning but right now, he really didn’t care, he just wanted to make you smile again.

“Ok, well! I’ll take that as my cue, Mike you wanna go sleep?” Marcus announced awkwardly. Mike caught on quick and jumped at the offer agreeing at least three times that he was tired.

“Oh uh of course, I have a spare room, there is a mattress under the bed too if you guys want to take the spare room?” you blinked, shaking yourself out of whatever head fuck that Armando caused as offered the room.

“Yeah, sounds good, Armando are you good to take the couch?” Mike asked not really giving him an option. Armando just nodded while finishing of his food.

“Armando can take my room, I’m okay on the couch tonight” I offered, knowing they’d only be staying here tonight.

“No. the couch is fine” He answered, causing you to frown a little as the dismissive tone on his voice. But little did you know, he didn’t want you sleeping on the couch.

“Honestly it’s fine, you guys are only here for one night and no offense, but you’ve been sleeping in a prison for ages, I fall asleep on my couch all the time” You over-explained hoping he would take you up on your offer. You looked at Mike and Marcus for encouragement and when they weren’t going to assist, you threw them a glare that forced them to convince him to take your bed. He reluctantly agreed and thanked you to which you smiled at again. God he should have said yes sooner if he’d known he’d see your smile again.

The boys cleaned up their plates and went off to bed as they had a so aggressively agreed they needed to do. You noticed Armando had finished his plate, so you offered him more which he politely declined. To say you were confused was an understatement, one minute he was mean and defensive, then flirty and now nice. He was difficult to read and even harder to please.

He packed his plate up as well; you watched as he then stood at the sink cleaning his dishes as you moved to the couch crossing your legs. He was wearing a black tank top that had his tanned arms on display, biceps flexing every time he scrubbed a little harder, at this point, you were staring at him unashamedly. Well, that was before he called you out for it.

“You gonna keep staring, or you wanna help” he smirked still washing, but you were not going to let him have this one, not while you had the confidence to stare at him.

“didn’t I give you a top plus the tank?” You asked knowing that you were calling him out for choosing to look so fucking sexy right now. Ok maybe it wasn’t much of a comeback, but hopefully it would catch him off guard, the same way he did to you. He paused washing, indicating it may have had the desired effect, causing a small smirk to lift on your lips.

He looked up, rinsing off the last dish “Where’d your hoodie go?” he asked back almost in retaliation walking closer to you. You just lifted your shoulders with a cheeky confused look on your face “Tienes suerte eres hermosa” He commented in Spanish again.

Brows furrowing yet again with a slight frown “What does that mean?” more confident to ask.

He smiled so softly and leaned in close to your face, your eyes followed his movements and face still. As he moved closer to your ear, your eyes moved straight ahead focusing on his voice. “You are lucky you're beautiful” He translated. Your head turned so quickly looking directly at him, your faces almost touching. He looked down at your lips and then back up your eyes, his head moved slightly and opted for a soft peck on the cheek as he whispered goodnight.

This man would be the absolute death of you, you knew this for sure.

[bippot]

Eddie Munson - Stranger Things Masterlist

+ Ralph Penbury - Timewasters and Billy Knight - Cormoran Strike

Wanna be added to a taglist? Either comment on this post or send me a message!

Taglist: @emxxblog, @jeangeniex

1) The Need To Graduate I Tumblr I AO3 I

Eddie Munson needs some encouragement to want to graduate, and his best friend is more than willing to give it to him. Or, not give it to him. That’s a more accurate description.

2) The Tongue Piercing I Tumblr I AO3 I

Eddie gets bored one night and decides to make himself more metal by sticking metal in his face. And, honestly, he has no idea how his girlfriend will react.

3) Chicken I Tumblr I AO3 I

All of his attempts to talk to her had failed miserably. All of them. He didn’t know what to say, so when Robin brings said girl along with her to the arcade, Eddie finally gets a chance to strike up a conversation.

4) Official I Tumblr I AO3 I

So, yeah, Eddie has a little crush. Between working in the garage, school, and late nights thinking about a special someone, he doesn’t quite think he has the guts to do something about it. But, that’s okay. She might have them.

5) Talkative I Tumblr I AO3 I

Mike Wheeler had no idea why Y/N was allowed to be in Hellfire. She just took up all the time he could’ve been using to talk about, you know, what he wanted to. Maybe she was let in because of Eddie’s very obvious soft spot for her? Or maybe it’s because the other members genuinely like her? Who knows. But one thing is for sure: her not talking to him drives Eddie insane.

6) Pinky Promise I Tumblr I AO3 I

There’s a secret that Eddie holds close so people don’t bully him more, so when his best friend offers to help him out with it, he can’t decline. Only an idiot would do that.

7) Picture Perfect I Tumblr I AO3 I

Can Eddie Munson draw? Hell yeah. He even has a favourite thing to sketch. Well, it’s more a who rather than an it.

8) Sick Little Baby I Tumblr I AO3 I

Poor Eddie didn’t show up to school because he has a bit of a cough and Wayne needs his rest, so his best friend and her puppy are willing to come to his aid.

9) The Henderson Connection I Tumblr I AO3 I

Who knew that Dustin had a sister? Well, Eddie did know about her. He just had no idea what she was like. But as soon as he met her, there was no going back.

10) The Day of Fools I Tumblr I AO3 I

When the hell is Eddie’s birthday? Well, the Henderson siblings soon find out and rush to make it the best day they can.

11) Half the Work I Tumblr I AO3 I

They get paired together for a biology assessment. That’s it. The popular cheerleader would never ruin her reputation and standing with her parents for a DnD nerd. Unless….? Also, why does Jason Carver hate Eddie Munson so much?

12) Baby Fever I Tumblr I AO3 I

Eddie is great with kids of all ages, but there is something about babies that makes him want one of his own. Yet his girlfriend may need some convincing.

13) Vegas, Baby I Tumblr I AO3 I

Corroded Coffin is successful and probably will continue being successful for a while. Yet, they’ve been working nonstop for so long and are desperately in need of a break. Where do rockstars go? Fucking Vegas, baby! Casino’s? Dolphin shows? Spa days? Siegfried and Roy? A chance for Eddie to finally show his singer how much he truly loves her? How could they pass up an opportunity like this?

14.1) Stuck In The Middle I Tumblr I AO3 I

Steve can play the guitar. Corroded Coffin is down a guitarist… It’s perfect. Well, except for the fact that both Eddie and Steve like the same girl. So, who will she pick? Or the better question is, will she have to pick at all? (Eddie x Reader x Steve)

14.2) Best Of Both Worlds I Tumblr I AO3 I

After coming to the conclusion that they could share their crush, Eddie and Steve also get closer as a result. Too close for comfort at times, as Steve would find out, but it’s okay; all they need to do is kiss and make up.

15) Sound Asylum I Tumblr I AO3 I

School sucks. Studying sucks. Jason Carver sucks. The record shop named Sound Asylum fucking rules. Sure, it sells all of Eddie’s favourite music, but everyone knows that’s his excuse to talk to the cashier there, a.k.a. his girlfriend.

1) Step By Step I Tumblr I AO3 I

Billy’s on the mend. It’s a process with a lot of ups and downs, but his friend is more than willing to help him out. Whether it’s comforting him after therapy or picking out new clothes, the pair are always together and trying their best to build up his psyche and teach him what it feels like to be loved.

1) A Change Of Pace I Tumblr I AO3 I

Ralph knows he’s quick to fall in love, and that’s bitten him on the ass every single time it has happened. Not this time, no. To ensure he doesn’t scare his new infatuation away, he must take the advice of his servant, Michael, and take it slow.

[h0neylevi]

Hi! this is my first time requesting and i’m actually nervous abt it or messing up but could you do reader constantly flirting with levi (aot) jokingly but gets like soooo flustered and blush the moment they get complimented or when he flirts back? thanks!!

hello anon!

i'm sorry this took me so long -_- i do hope you're still around to see it ❤︎

c/w: modern au, alcohol/drinking, gn!reader w/c: 1699

Levi never took a compliment at face value.

His most ardent cheerleader was usually Hange, and receiving any level of attention from them was usually undercut by a layer of mischief that diminished any sincerity in their words.

It never seemed to bother him, but he didn’t seem to take much stock in their words either. It was just Hange, after all. And Hange was not usually very serious.

You on the other hand had a more reliable record of being genuine. So when he didn’t respond with his usual dry remark the first time you complimented him, it didn’t surprise you.

Instead, grey eyes found yours, a flicker of confusion clouding his expression before it was gone again. He never acknowledged what you said, but his body language had stiffened slightly. Hange was the first to point out later that his cheeks had looked a little flushed.

After that, it became a running thing–more for yours and Hange’s amusement than anything–to see if you could manage to fluster him again. He quickly learned to tune the both of you out, only sparing a stern glare in Hange’s direction as a way of showing his displeasure.

The trouble wasn’t remembering when it became a running joke to shamelessly flirt with him. It was pinpointing exactly when the lines began to blur and it no longer felt like a joke, but telling the truth.

You consider the situation again as you drop into a seat in the middle of a bar one Friday evening. The lights are low and warm, casting everything in a honey glow that enhances the carefree atmosphere of idle chatter and music. You stir the two skinny cocktail straws in your drink to the beat of some upbeat pop song and look around.

It isn’t exactly packed, but it isn’t empty either. People mill about in small groups, taking up space at the bar and hovering around outside near the entrance for smoke breaks. Your friends–Hange, Erwin, Levi, and Mike–have taken control of one of the pool tables in the corner not far away. You watch as Hange leans over the table and takes their shot, sinking a solid ball into one of the corner pockets with a pump of their fist.

They back up and exchange a high-five with Mike, giving Levi the space to move forward and survey the table. From the low light, you see the little pinch of focus that forms between his brows. His eyes scan over the possible plays before he rounds the corner and leans into place.

You become acutely aware that you’ve stopped stirring your drink and look away before he takes his shot. Back to the drink in your hand that’s growing more watered down by the minute.

As excited as you initially were about getting out with your friends tonight, you don’t feel like drinking. The music is too loud and the atmosphere feels too cramped. And it’s all because of this stupid unrequited crush that’s bloomed without you really even realizing it.

You take a deep drink and sigh, the underlying taste of alcohol burning on the way down. Normally you’d be happy to have such a heavy-handed pour, but tonight it just seems to settle like lead in your stomach.

Maybe you should just go home. Have the rest of the leftovers in your fridge and go to sleep early.

You’re just beginning to plan your exit speech when someone approaches your table.

“What are you doing over here?”

When you look up, you’re surprised to find none other than the subject of your thoughts.

As Levi waits for your answer, he takes a sip of the drink in his hand. From the color, you’d guess a high proof spirit mixed with soda. For as long as you’ve known him, he’s never been much of a beer drinker.

Despite the butterflies that form in your stomach from being caught off guard, you pull your expression into an easy smile. After months of trying to get under his skin, it feels natural.

“Trying to look available.”

His brows raise like he’s almost unsure he’s heard you correctly. “Available?”

You nod. “Mhm.”

You expect that to be the end of it, for him to nod and go back to his game of pool but to your surprise, he slides into the seat opposite you and sets down his drink. “And how is that working for you?”

You let out a quiet laugh and prop your chin on your hand. “Well considering I’ve only managed to attract the one person who’s rejected me for over six months, I’d say not well.”

For a moment, he just stares and you’re left to wonder if maybe your tone came across a little too sincere for comfort. It was getting harder these days to appear lighthearted about your feelings.

But if Levi’s particularly rattled by your words, he doesn’t let on. His gaze falls to his glass a second later, gently swirling it so the ice inside clinks together. For several tense seconds, you wait, wondering what he’s thinking until he finally says, “I’ve never rejected you.”

If someone had asked you what you expected him to say, it would have taken you all night to land on that particular arrangement of words.

You frown, not understanding where the sudden shift in his demeanor is coming from. “You have,” you argue back, your tone growing more serious. “A lot actually.”

He looks back up, and the expression on his face turns pointed. “I don’t remember ever saying no.”

“You’ve never said anything,” you point out.

He nods along, giving you a look that suggests your point only further supports his argument. “Exactly.”

But you give him a flat look, just short of rolling your eyes. “No response is still a response, Levi.”

A brief silence settles between you then, somehow not permeated by the buzz of the music and chatter surrounding you on all sides. In fact, it feels like there’s no one else around. A feeling you were rather hoping wouldn’t happen, even if another, much larger part of you is still pleased that he’s speaking to you at all.

Then Levi leans forward, catching your attention despite the way you attempt to avoid his gaze. He rests his arms on the table, resting his fingertips against the rim of his glass. “Try again then.”

You flash him a narrowed, skeptical look. “Why would I do that?”

“Dunno,” he shrugs. “Maybe you’ll get a different answer this time.”

You can hardly believe what you’re hearing. You take the time to look at him, really look at him. For the most part, he looks exactly how he always does–hair neatly combed and framing that set of grey eyes you like looking into so much. There’s something slightly different about them tonight though, half-lidded and relaxed in a way similar to his posture. Like he isn’t so on edge and on the defensive.

“Are you drunk?” you guess.

“I probably shouldn’t drive,” he concedes after a moment. “But I don’t need to be drunk to flirt with you.”

That catches you off guard. Enough to where you take a sharp breath in, the air getting stuck in your chest as warmth blooms over your face. It’s difficult to look him in the eyes, but it’s also just as hard to look away when the eye contact he’s giving you makes your heart skip several beats.

But still, you try not to let his boldness make you too foolish.

You take another sip of your drink, stalling for time in an effort to get your racing thoughts under control. “I’ll believe it when you try with that hangover you’re going to have tomorrow.”

He stares at you for what feels like minutes, seemingly considering your words before saying, “Okay.” You think for the second time that that’s the end of whatever has possessed him to come and talk to you, but he speaks again. “Want to meet up for coffee tomorrow morning?”

“Coffee?” you repeat, too dumbstruck to do anything but uselessly repeat his words.

The corner of his lips quirk into a small grin.

“See, they take these seeds from a plant and roast them–”

You scowl, but the smile that accompanies it undermines any attempt to make it look as though you’re actually offended. “I know what coffee is.”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s like you don’t want me to say yes.”

The amusement in his eyes flickers out slightly and he re-settles his attention to taking another long sip from his drink. For a moment, you think that maybe you’ve ruined your chances by taking the joke too far, but his posture is still relaxed. He doesn’t make a move to leave.

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want you to say yes,” he finally says, his voice softer as he turns to look at you again.

There’s a seriousness in his tone, but it lacks the hard-lined edges that you’re so used to. Maybe that’s why it causes your heart to keep racing. You may not know what he’s thinking, but you know he’s being genuine.

You take a slow, intentional breath to try and keep from vibrating out of your seat with nerves. A hysterical, irrational thought occurs to you suddenly that maybe this is his way of getting back at you for all of the months of jokes. But the Levi you know wouldn’t do that. Would he?

Finally, you say, “If you’re just joking around, I’m going to be so disappointed.”

“Then it’s a date.”

Before you can respond, there’s some shouting from the corner, and Levi turns to see that the others are calling him over. A familiar face appears at the crook of Mike’s elbow, and you realize Nanaba has finally arrived. Erwin is preoccupied with adjusting the rack on the table, but the rest are watching you both with a mixture of expectation and curiosity.

They must want to start another game. Hange gestures to the table when you both look over, confirming your suspicions.

Levi turns.

“Coming?” he asks, still not rising from his seat. “Unless you’d rather go somewhere now.”

taglist: @gggellaa @hideandgopeep @humanitys-strongest-bamf @humanitys-strongest-brat

Join my tag list here!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

aita for calling out someone for being manipulative towards a trans friend? Names have been changed for privacy reasons and TLDR at the end because this is long.

I (24f) am cis but have had a lot of trans friends (binary, nonbinary, and neopronoun) throughout the years and am very supportive so i take this very seriously. So I met this girl my first year in college (we were 18 at the time) and we became friends. We're polar opposites, she talks a lot and I don't, she parties a lot and I like to do more sophisticated things, she's a typical extrovert basically, and I'm more introverted. Anne (24f) was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder. I don't know when, she just told me this years ago. I've seen tiktoks about bpd and researched Google about bpd a little so I know all about how they have fave persons and will "mimic" people in the friend group and become clingy, manipulate, etc. I've seen pics of her in high school, noticed that she was a theater kid, she said she was good at acting and even said she thinks her bpd helped with her acting although I'm not sure how, but she said she only joined the theater club because a boy she had a crush on was in theater. That should've been my first red flag but I was naive. She has a degree in something else (not theater) because our second year in college her favorite character in a TV show did a certain job, she got interested in that, and now she also does that as a living. She doesn't talk about her bpd, she's only mentioned it a handful of times. I can count on one hand how many times. And I get it because she said someone once told her people with bpd should be sterilized and not be allowed near children. Which is really messed up and I hate that someone said that.

However on with the situation. One of our friends Mike (25m) is a trans man. We met him four years ago. He's very handsome, broody, introverted, intelligent, great listener, very accepting and understanding, similar to me but opposite to her. Now we didn't know he was trans until two years ago, because I asked him on a date and he turned me down, and when I asked why he told me that he was mostly T4T and only viewed me as a friend. We were like woah you're trans, okay that's cool, etc. He explained that he was lucky enough to get on puberty blockers and transition young etc which is why he passes. I said okay I'm not trans and you're mostly T4T fair enough.

Well last year Anne suddenly tells us that she is trans too. She says she's bigender. She says she is okay with either she her or he him because she feels like a man and a woman at the same time. Some days she's a woman, some days she's a man, and some days she's both, according to her. She says she does not like they them pronouns. Suddenly her and Mike are spending all this extra time together. Last month he confided in me that he thinks he's in love with her, after years of him only seeing her as a friend, and then they started officially dating.

Here's the problem: she has not changed her outward appearance, her name, started any kind of medical stuff, joined any groups, bought a binder etc. We all continue to call her she and her because she fully presents as female and doesn't have a problem with it. Also she's very effeminate in body language, the way she talks, etc. I know technically I could call her a he or a him, too, but she never asks me to or corrects people when they call her she because well technically she is a she too. Mike is the only one who uses he and him pronouns with her as often as she and her, but she has never thanked him. It really feels like she's saying she's trans and then going about her life exactly as a cis woman simply to convince Mike to date her.

First off, Anne and Mike are NOT compatible. She likes to party, smoke weed, talks a lot, I'm not sure how she graduated with such good grades or why she does so well in her job because she is honestly a LOT to handle and I'm saying that as nice as possible. Mike would never touch weed or go to clubs and he says he would be fine staying home while she does those things but how could you trust someone to party while high and not hook up with others? I've seen her make out with five people in one night at a frat party. They also had wildly different childhoods, such as she grew up in a conservative community and doesn't speak to her family, and he grew up in a liberal area and is close with his family. But more importantly she has a history of joining theater because she had a crush on someone in theater (plus she admits she is good at acting, so maybe she is acting now?) and getting a degree and job in a field because a favorite fictional character did that and now this? It feels like she was attracted to him, found out he usually dates other trans people, and found a way to continue being cis but claim to be trans without having to do anything trans related, basically mimicing her favorite person. As soon as they met they hit it off, or should I say she clung to him and pretended to have the same likes and dislikes whenever they were alone I assume.

It sounds terrible I know, which is why I discussed this with a group chat first that neither of them are in, and the group chat not only agreed that she is far too "obnoxious" for him (those were NOT my words!) but that she is faking being trans in an attempt to make him fall in love with her (which seems to be working.) I would NEVER have gone further without making sure with them first. So then a few of the people in my group chat and I held an intervention with Anne alone. The six of us (the others don't live close enough to come) met up with Anne at her place and told her what she was doing was wrong and gross and that she needed to get help for her bpd and to stop catfishing Mike. She didn't take well to what was said, which I anticipated, but she went crazy. She was screaming at us, insulting us, sobbing while yelling etc, literally said if we ever contacted her again she would call the cops, so we left.

I immediately called Mike before she could and asked him to meet me at a restaurant nearby and that it was very important. Since Mike doesn't know anyone in the group chat I went alone and I explained EVERYTHING before she could gaslight and manipulate him even further. He left, did not finish or pay for his food. I messaged him several times, but a few hours later he texted me to never to speak to him again, and then blocked me on everything. I showed up to his house and Anne was there. Mike said if I ever contacted him again he would get a restraining order on me so I left. I've discussed this with the group chat and now suddenly half of them changed their mind and don't want to talk about it anymore. Several of them left the group chat. Not only that but several of my friends who know either Mike or Anne or both have blocked me on everything. When I've tried to contact these friends through other means and explain everything, they either didn't respond or said for me never to contact them again because I was being transphobic. Listen I know under NORMAL circumstances you shouldn't question when someone comes out but this is NOT a normal situation, and now I am concerned Anne is unsafe for Mike but also an unsafe person to know, as she literally is trying to destroy my life because I called her out on some seriously messed up and abusive behavior.

TLDR am I the asshole for trying to protect my trans friend from a potential stalker?

What are these acronyms?

[spaceprincess04]

Just a lil sun from my drafts… this is like a year and a half old, but enjoy!

It’s day three of the press tour and you’re learning more and more about your co-workers, outside of what you’d usually chat about on set. You’re now at the Vanity Fair interview where you literally have to play a guessing game with two of your co-stars about their personal lives.

“What’s a fun fact about me? I guess there’s not just one answer to this, so answer this one freely?” Michael reads the card he pulled aloud.

“Oh, easy. You love basketball.” Jonathan eagerly answers.

Michael nods, “very true. More so when I was younger, cause I liked to play a lot. I still love to watch though.”

“You only have one tattoo. Makeup crew always covers it for films, of course, but it’s hella cool.” I answer when my turn comes around.

“Yep. I have the outline of Africa and the eye of Horus tatted on my left shoulder.” He Winked, which was very unnecessary if you ask me.

“Of course she would know that.” Jonathan gave me a pointed look. This man always accuses Michael and I of having a crush on each other.

“Well I find it to be a form of method acting, staring at Michael's shoulders. It’s very crucial part of playing Bianca.” It’s my turn to wink at the camera. The fans are going to have a field day with that clip, I can just see the edits already.

“Anywassss! If I were a drink, what would I be? Wait, regular drink or spirits?” You look past the camera, asking the interviewer.

“Either or” she answers.

“Let’s do spirits.” Your costar Jonathan helps you decide.

“Cool, okay. I’ll write my answer now so you guys can guess..”You finish dragging your sharpee along the piece of paper the crew provided you with.

“Coffee martini? I don’t know, Just kinda seems like your vibe.” Jonathan answers with uncertainty.

“You know, I’ve never had one. It’s crazy because i loooovvveee coffee, which Jonathan knows. I’ve just never been brave enough to mix coffee and alcohol.” You shrug. “So, no. That’s not the answer I wrote.” You laugh, patting Jonathan on the arm.

“Awe, man.” He replies and puts his head down in mock shame.

“She grew up around southern folks, so i’ma go with whiskey.” Michael answers.

“You, you are correct. I’d be a glass of Maker’s, neat.”

“Oh, yeah?” Mike responds.

I smirk at the camera before bursting into laughter. “Please don’t take me seriously, y’all. I cannot be serious for very long. Who’s turn is it next?”

“That would be me. This one’s easy, what do I take with me everywhere?” Jonathan takes a couple seconds to write.

“Your cute little cup, of course.” You make a tea drinking jester with your pinky out.

“I do not drink like that, but yes I always have a mug with me. I have about.. three? in rotation.”

“You definitely do drink like that.” You pretend to whisper to him.

“Yeah your mug and your speaker for sure.” Mike nods.

“Yes, the speaker was second on the list.” Jonathan reveals his paper.

“Alright, last one.” Michael pulls the last card. “Aside from acting, what is my other talent?”

“Trick question? Directing?” Jonathan questions.

“Tap dancing? No, I’m kidding.” I ponder over what his hidden talent could be.

“Oh wait, are you gonna say basketball?” Jonathan slaps his knee, clapping and laughing as he looks away.

“You’re a piece of shit.” Michael responds in between laughs.

“Ummmm” you drag out my response, trying to create more time to think.

“Damn, do y’all know me?” He turns his card around and it reads ‘cooking’

“I don’t, I need you to make a meal for us to refresh our memories.” You point in between Jonathan and yourself.

“Ooooh, yeah. No, no, I knew that.” Jonathan rubs his eyebrow.

“What? Yes guys, I cook all my food. When I’m bulking, I get the meal plan from the nutritionist and do the cooking.” He speaks into the camera.

“No way. What can you cook? Chicken and Broccoli?” you cracked yourself up, squeezing your sides from laughter and everything.

“Wow, I really am going to have to cook for you now. You’re doubting me?”

“I believe my brother. If he says he can cook, he can probably cook.” Jonathan joins in the banter.

“Alright. Y’all name it, I’ll cook it at the crib TONIGHT! Y’all not gone play with me like this.” He’s dead ass serious right now.

“Okay then, do a seafood boil.” You raise a brow at him to see if he’s bluffing or not.

“Bet.”

“Okay, we’ll see. That shit better not be nasty, Mike.” I’m still laughing when I tap Jonathan. “Watch us pull up and his chef is leaving at the same time.”

“You can watch me cook it if you want to stay that long. I’ll even film it for y’all.”

“No, you’re good. We believe you, bro.” Jonathan straightens his face into a more serious expression.

“What time will I see y’all then?”

“You’ll see y/n whenever she’s free.” Jonathan pats your shoulder.

“What? Why can’t you be there? I’m not going through this alone. I’m scared, guys.” Your eyes widened in the lense of the camera, as if the fans could see me live and come to your rescue.

“I have a thing.” Jonathan tucks his lips, trying to hide the taunting expression.

“That’s bull. what thing do you have?”

“I already made the commitment to myself. I gotta do my post press-tour self care routine. Self care is very important, to all my fellas out there. Bubble baths, face masks, and whatnot.”

“Oh booo! Forget you and your pink bathrobe.” You scoff.

“How do you know what color his robe is?” Michael’s eyebrows knit together followed by the straightening of his spine. You can hear some of the camera crew snickering in the back.

“I don’t, I was made the joke from that one magazine cover he did.” You shrug, not quite noticing the change in the man’s body language.

“I’m appalled. My bathrobe is actually red. My favorite color, in case y’all were wondering. Sorry bro, I can’t make it tonight. You’ll have to let me know in the group chat how it was, y/n.”

“Yeah yeah whatever, sassy man. I’ll be there sometime after 7, Mike. Oh, and another fun fact about me is,” you turn your attention back to the camera “ I can’t eat seafood in nice clothes. I will be pulling up in my non-interview clothes.”

When it’s time to close out the video everyone does their outro. “Welp, looks like I don’t know Michael B Jordan very well. Thanks for tuning in, be sure to check out Creed III in theaters.”

…

You finished your interviews for the day that you had with other cast members and went home to shower, relax and reset. Then, you remembered you had one more thing to do.

It’s half past seven when you pull up to Michael's place

in a ‘I heart dilfs’ baby tee, comfy shorts, and some pink hello kitty bling flip flops.

No later than ten seconds after the doorbell rang, your handsome co-star himself opens the door to greet you with a smile. “Y/n” he steps to the side, allowing you to walk in and closing the door behind you.

“You look cozy.” You comment, pointing to his basketball shorts and wife beater. “Nice shoes” you knew he was a sneakerhead, those retro ones are dope and hard to get.

“Ah, thanks. I was just tryna keep up with you.” He refers to your earlier comment made at the interview about how you dress when eating seafood. “‘I love Dilfs’, huh?” He smirks at your shirt.

“Yup, that includes Amara’s dad.” You wink in his direction

A hand meets the small of your back as he guides you to the kitchen. “Aight, this is what I got. I’m finishing up right now, so don’t try and say I ain’t cook this shit.” He warns.

“Ouuu, it smells good in here. I’m not gone lie, I’m kinda excited.” Your mouth is in the verge of salivating.

Michael takes the last of what he’s frying off of the stove and turns the fire off. “Okay, so we got crab of course, with the potatoes, corn, and sausage in it. We also got garlic noodles and fried butterfly shrimp on the side.”

He fixes a big hefty ass plate and walks over to the table. “This is for me or you?” You quirk your brows.

“Girl, sit down.” He laughs, scooting your chair out for you to sit at this huge glass table.

“What do you want to drink?” He asks walking back to the kitchen.

“Water is good, thank you.”

“Oh, I got some of those food gloves and bibs. I know you got your nails done and shit.” He chuckles, handing them to you.

“Oh, thank you!”

When he’s brought drinks for the two of you, y’all settle at the table and you prepare to eat your words as well as his food because it smells good. You just know you won’t be able to trash it.

“Damn man, I don’t think I’m gonna be able to shit talk you anymore. Let me just get into it. You, Jonathan, and the whole vanity fair crew are anticipating my reaction.” You crack open a crab leg, dip the meat into the sauce and pop it in your mouth.

His gaze is fixated on you. He hasn’t moved his fork not once, too excited to know what you think.

“It’s fire, sheesh.” You smile, cracking your next piece and dipping into the sauce.

“You and Jonathan had me messed up, I had to come correct.”

“Your place is nice. This is very Aquarian male of you. Modern as fuck, cool art but not so many momentos.”

“Yeah, when my parents moved out I kinda just re-did the decorating myself.” He shrugs. “Are you busy after dinner?”

“I was just gonna go back home. Why, what’d you have in mind?”

“Maybe a movie?” He leaves space in the air for you to answer, not completely sure if you were down to stick around for longer than what you’d agreed to earlier in the day.

“That sounds good, what do you have in mind? I’m only staying if it’s Sci-fi or Anime. I can’t do that rom com shit tonight.”

“So you didn’t watch ‘A Journal To Jordan?’ I thought we supported each other.” He pretends to be hurt. “But nah. I definitely was thinking the same thing to be honest.”

“You know I did.” You side eye him. “Ouu, should we watch those old ass reruns of Star Trek?”

“Hell yeah.”

We clean up the table and do the dishes together, he washes and you put them on the drying rack because he says that’s all you’re allowed to do. You like that he doesn’t have maids and cleaners at all times to do every single thing for him. Yes, he’s a well paid celebrity and can do that now but it’s refreshing to be around people who don’t move like that. You’re the same way, you do your own shit when I’m home and have the time.

“I’m not a huge wine drinker, but someone gifted me this Pinot Grigio. If you want, we can crack it open. My mom gave me this wine rack when she moved, she said it makes the kitchen look classier. As you can see there’s only one bottle in here.”He playfully shakes his head, grabbing a bottle.

“Oh wow, Mr. Jordan. Are you encouraging me to drink and drive?” You falsely gasp.

“My fault, I didn’t even think about that. Most people don’t drive themselves in LA.”

“No, you’re good. I’m just giving you a hard time.”

“I can take you home, or call a driver, or you can stay here if you want.. there’s guest rooms for you to choose from if you.” He clears his throat after the last sentence, realizing how it might have sounded and not wanting to insinuate something.

“It’s cool, we’ll figure it out. I will have a drink with you, though.. or a few. You know, wine goes fast.”

He smiles, your joke lightening the air. He’s focused on getting the cork out of the bottle, his muscles flexing ever so slightly and you can’t help but to look. “Ah, there we go.” He reaches into his cabinets to grab two glasses, pours yours and hands it to you before pouring his own and leading you a living room area with his glass and the bottle in hand.

The two of you are a whole glass in, and have completely forgotten about the show playing on the tv as it’s just become background noise to your conversation. Michael sitting on the other side of you. You’re so comfortable. You're against the arm of the sofa, legs crossed and laid out over the pillowy cushions.

“Why did you have to be such an overachiever? Not only is the item I requested perfect, you had to go and make some good ass sides too? Sick. It’s that damn Virgo rising.”

He chuckles and refills your glasses. “Well, thank you. I remember you telling me about my chart and how you’re into astrology, but I don’t really know much else about it. Can you tell me?” He picks up your legs, settles them onto his lap and starts working on massaging one of your feet. “This is a cute color.” He rubs your sparkly peridot painted toes. You never try anything outside of white, he must’ve noticed the difference.

You could moan, right now. This is the most orgasmic feeling you’ve had all month. With the stressful ass press tour, working all day and barely having the time to fucking chill. For you, this felt like heaven. It didn’t hurt that your fine ass, hubby material co-worker was the cause of it all.

“Awe, thank you. I- I um, found your chart online that day we were talking about it in your trailer and I remembered your big three. You’re an Aquarius sun, Virgo rising, cancer moon. I think that you being an Aquarius sun makes you inclined to live and do shit in more of an unconventional way that fits you perfectly, and it makes you iconic, to be honest. Virgos are like the perfectionists of the zodiac, the true performers and artists, they have such a meticulous eye for perfection in regards to what they do. Part of why you and Jonathan are some damn good actors, attention to detail n allat. That could also be why you both get along so well, but that’s a whole other thing called synastry where you'd compare your chart to other peoples and see how your relationship with them could be. As far as your moon, Cancer moon people can tend to be super tender, caring and comforting people. y’all lowkey some homebodies, all about comfort.”

“Wow” his eyes slightly widen, it’s a lot to take in. You love to run your mouth about the things you’re passionate about, he just loves that you’re sharing this passion with him.

“I went off on a whole tangent there, but it’s honestly way more complex than that. I love it. I think depending on how people use it, it could be a great tool for life. It’s like my version of ethics class… and wine makes me run my mouth extra.” a giggle seeps from your mouth after you take another sip.

“That’s dope, to think there’s a whole ass science behind people’s lives and personalities. I never would’ve thought it could be accurate.” He replied.

“Yeahh, I know! I was never really into it when I was younger, but moving to LA and all these other new experiences that I got going on made me want to open up to it and give it a honest try.”

“I'd pay you for a chart reading, I never trusted those little magic booths at Malibu.” He smiles, kissing the arch of your foot before moving on to massage the other.

You hide your noise of satisfaction with a yawn. “Mmm, I’d do it free of charge if you can cook like that again. I shouldn’t have doubted you, Mr. Jordan. My apologies.”

“It’s all good, now you know I can cook for you whenever you’d like.”

…

“So, what about you? You’re so good with kids. It’s adorable seeing you with them online, when we had the babies on set, and even with sweet little mila. Do you plan on having any? Or are you just like the cool uncle figure to other people’s kids. Cause’ I’m not at all judging. As the oldest sister, I once upon a time swore I wouldn’t ever have em.” Your hands go up in a mixture of shrug and surrender.

He’s amused by this. “I don’t buy that for a second, kids love you. I definitely want some. I love kids, I hope to have them one day. I just haven’t had a point in my career yet where I’ve slowed down enough to truly be the ideal dad that I’d like to be.I don’t know though, are you still holding yourself to that promise?” His dimples adorably peer through his smile.

“Ha! You know, I don’t know if I ever did, really. I mostly said it because I saw the stress that parenthood brought to people's lives, especially when they weren’t truly ready for it. I guess it's more me swearing not to be a parent if I didn’t have the resources to do it how I deemed proper, or not being at a place of stability for my child. You know? I can’t truly say that I wouldn’t want to bring that type of joy into this world. My heart ain’t cut like that.” You shake your head.

“No, I definitely get it. Being at the right capacity mentally, physically, and financially before I have a child is super crucial. I also want them to have parents who can be role models to what love should truly look like, like I had. I know everybody didn’t get to grow up seeing that. You know, that strong and unconditional, healthy, in love-love shit.”

“Definitely, that’s vital. I wish I had that growing up. It’s beautiful that you got to have that and can recognize the impact it has on people who don’t. Everything from childhood molds you into who you are, I believe. I would just want to give my baby the best childhood possible.” Your lips curl upwards. “It’s weird, I’ve never gone much into depth about this topic. But yeah, you pretty much filled in the gaps that I couldn’t put my thumb on.”

“Same” he points to my shirt. “Somebody gotta get that ‘I love milfs’ shirt to match you one day.”

“You’ve been teasing me about this shirt since I came in.” You jokingly swat his hand away.

“You started it, tryna clown on my fit as soon as you walked in the door.”

“Nah, I like the color gray on you.” You unintentionally stare at his shorts, the outline of him softly speaking to you.

“Yeah? You look pretty in everything.” He pulls you onto his lap. His hands explore your sides, traveling upwards for his thumbs to meet the peaks that hardened through your shirt. “You cold?” The pads of his fingers ran over your clothed nipples.

How do you tell him that your skin is burning up and freezing at the same time? That you don’t know how far of a line has been crossed with your coworker and friend? Who knows, but tonight wouldn’t be when you figured it out.

“You keep the ac on blast.” You shyly nod.

He picks up a fuzzy white blanket from the other side of him and throws it over your bodies, even though he’s naturally radiating warmth. Michael lays back on the couch, neither of you talk. Just feeling each other’s hearts beating, the movement of your chests as breath comes and goes from your bodies when you you inhale and exhale. His large hand gently rubs your back, in a manner that you almost fall asleep to.

“You want to stay with me tonight?” He whispers, lips brushing along the shell of your ear.

You nod “can we watch Innuyasha?”

“Of course, princess.” You feel the vibrations of his deep voice travel through your skin, scratching your brain in a way that feels so good. Your body gets heavy, you feel comfortable enough to let it relax. He smiles as your face rests in the crook of his neck and your breathing becomes deeper.

[itzpookiepooh]

Revenge

Summary: In which you help Josh get the group back for what they did last year.

*Do not copy my work*

You were all sitting in the living room as police stated over you all. The officers needed to question everyone about last night. You went to bed early because everyone started to wind down. You went in Hannah’s room to rest. Who knew you’d wake up again and she’d be missing.

“When was the last time you saw the twins?” The officer asked you making you look up slowly. You fiddled with your ring before answering.

“I saw Hannah last night. I fell asleep in her room and she came in, changed clothes, sat at her desk writing and then left. I was so drowsy but that’s all I remember.” You say with sad tone to your voice.

“And Beth Washington?” He steps closer his hand on his belt.

“I saw Beth before I went to sleep. I told her good night and I’d see her in the morning. She was down here straightening whatever was left from everyone partying.” He nods at your explanation.

The officer spent time asking each and everyone of your friends about last night. You looked outside on the balcony at Josh. He was panicked but he couldn’t go anywhere. He had talked to his parents who planned to make a trip to the mountain expeditiously. They wanted answers on top of that they were livid no one knew anything.

The group told the officers about some prank. A harmless prank and that Hannah couldn’t take a joke. Whatever it was scared her off into the woods late in the night. The officers just nodded slowly as they told the story but you were more focused on your worried boyfriend.

“Thank you. We have a search team looking all over the mountain for them. We’re hoping for the best.” He said before leaving. You hug yourself tears threatening to spill.

A month goes by and nothing changes. There’s still no Hannah and Beth to be found. Not even a trace of them especially with the heavy snowfall. It’s like they were never here to begin with. It made your heart ache. They pronounced them dead soon after and called off all searches. It tore Josh apart and you even more having to console him. You spent endless time together because you didn’t want to lose him too. Ripping alcohol from his death grip almost every night was painful enough. His drunken rage and babbling about his baby sisters being gone. It was all too much.

Josh wanted to do one final search to ease his mind before all of this could be put to rest. That was when you heard it. You heard about the sick prank they pulled on Hannah. It made your blood boil over. Over a boy who couldn’t give a fuck about Emily or even Jess for that matter. You knew all about Jessica’s crush on Mike. Those flirty looks and touches and Emily let it slide.

Hannah was younger and harmless. Mike needed to be punished not Hannah. Jess needed to be punished anyone but Hannah. They kept it from Josh just so they wouldn’t face their consequences. You couldn’t believe what you heard. It was nauseating but what killed you was the fact that Hannah ran off alone and crying as Beth ran after her. They walked straight into their deaths because of these heartless idiots.

It was a sick prank that shouldn’t have ever happened. You were livid as you helped Josh clear out his sister’s rooms in their main home. Their parents were hurt to hear the news and too hurt to go through their things. Josh sat in Beth’s room not touching a thing. He couldn’t do it and you weren’t going to make him. You leaned against Beth’s dresser and stared at him as his head hung low.

“I know you don’t want to hear anything about your sisters but I need to tell you this.” Josh looked at you exhaustively.

His eyes were red and veins visible from his lack of sleep. The alcohol wasn’t helping either. You couldn’t stand to see him this way. Maybe telling him this would help with some kind of closure.

“I don’t think I can take anymore.” He sighs tousling his hair. You slightly pout at his expression.

“Trust me. After I tell you we can do whatever you want to about it.” You assure him placing your hand on his shoulder.

Josh agrees wiping his face as he sits up straight. You take a deep breath hoping he doesn’t go ballistic immediately after you tell him.

“Josh. The prank was Emily and Jessica’s idea. Everyone was in on it…except for Sam and Chris.” He just stares at you in silence.

The air was thick with tension. So thick that you don’t think even a knife could break it. You waited and waited for his reaction until he started to laugh maniacally. You didn’t know whether to move or stay still. He puts his head in his hands still laughing but tears stream down his face.

“Oh josh, hun…” you try to console him but he just lifts his head.

“This makes so much sense. They wouldn’t just run into the storm like that.” He sighs shaking his head as if this was the funniest thing ever.

After that Josh was acting like his regular self. It was as if his sisters never went missing. Their school held a memorial and he didn’t cry. Whenever they were brought up you could see him tick but he’d never explode. He was plotting…waiting. Waiting for a moment to strike.

To your surprise after the police stopped questioning the group. They came clean to Josh about the whole incident. He just nodded to them in understanding. Teenagers play pranks all the time. Rarely does it end like this. It was unfortunate what happened to poor Hannah and Beth. May God be with the Washingtons at this tragic time. The same phrases he’s been hearing for a month.

“It’s fine guys. Nothing can be done now.” He waves them off but you knew him better than that. They sighed in relief and gave their condolences.

It was 6 months before the one year anniversary of their deaths before he pulled you to the side. You were confused but he had a smirk on his face. You assumed he was ready to go to the police or his parents even but no you were wrong.

“I have an idea. To get them back for what they did to my sisters.” He said in a rush as excitement ran through him.

“You pressing charges?” You asked genuinely, your arms folded as you stared at him. He shakes his head quickly as he holds your shoulders.

“I’m going to get them back.” He smirks making you raise an eyebrow.

“An eye for an eye. Every emotion my sisters felt will be reflected onto them.” He smiles wickedly. You didn’t know whether to let him do it or help him. You were upset too but who were you to tell him revenge was wrong?

He tells you his plan to the very last detail. You could felt this was light compared to what they did to Hannah. You nod along as he tells you more about it. It would be plastered all over the internet and what they’d done would be known to everyone. He wanted it viral for the world to see and you couldn’t blame him. He was grieving in his own way.

“You need my help?” You asked genuinely, he tilted his head at you.

“I couldn’t ask you to do this. They’re my sisters I was responsible for them.” He explains to you. You were all he had left he couldn’t lose you too.

“No. They were family to me too. I’ll help you grieve in anyway I can just—let me help you.” You reassured him making him nod.

“This is going to be expensive and time consuming but we’ll handle it. On the year we’ll have them begging for mercy.” He told you as he held your face making you nod.

May God have mercy on their souls.

Divider: @strangergraphics

I thought of this in the shower 😌 I was so excited I didn’t have writers block!

[mangora]

Something I think about a lot is the people who went to school or lived in the same neighborhood as the ROTI cast seeing them on TV. Everyone in Cameron’s neighborhood knew that a kid lived in that house but they never knew or even really saw him; and now they get to know him for the first time, and they feel this weird mix of pride for him, as well as melancholy or even anger at the fact that he was kept inside his whole life. Lightning was a star in his community and everyone thought he had an idyllic life, until they saw the finale and found out how much pressure he’d been under all those years, and they can’t see him the same way when he comes back. Zoey was an outcast at her high school and was ignored or even picked on by most of her peers, and they only realized how much of an impact that had on her when they watched her struggle to make connections over and over again until she lost her first real friend and snapped. No one liked Scott, everyone thought he was an asshole and knew he only got by via cheating and lying— but seeing him near catatonic after that shark attack, they can’t help but feel horrified on a deep personal level, and remember some of the good or just pitiful things Scott did, and wonder if he really deserved something that terrible. Jo was bullied but never seemed intimidated or effected by it; when everyone sees her struggle with her body image, or worry about the things she hasn’t done yet, or slip up and smile or help someone out, it both makes them realize that she’s weaker than they thought and also that they’re wrong for being happy about that. Similarly, Mike was widely treated as a freak and a delinquent, and had barely if any friends; seeing him open up about his DID on TV and learning where DID comes from created this sense of crushing guilt and horror for everyone who’d ever picked on him or written him off or spread rumors behind his back. Anne Maria was beloved by people at her school and in her neighborhood, and seeing how people like Zoey treated her and watching her lose was devastating. Brick was always known to have a heart of gold, and while seeing that on TV was inspiring for some of his friends and peers at boot camp, it made him a new target for other kids and commanders, who saw him as soft and effete and not worth wasting time on. Sam never had many friends due to his nerdy interests and social awkwardness, and after seeing how kind he was on the show, everyone wishes they’d given him a chance. Seeing Dawn properly mad at Scott during her elimination is super uncanny to everyone who knew her as the calm and collected local cryptid, and it reminds them that she’s human (or at least humanoid) and makes them take her more seriously. B’s community was rooting for them, since everyone knew how smart and thoughtful they were; seeing him get deadnamed by Chris and then get taken down by Scott made them genuinely mad on their behalf. Watching Dakota’s last moments as a normal human girl was horrifying for everyone who knew her, especially because after the episode aired there was nothing they could do about it. Staci went on the show as the annoying girl who lied for attention, and she left the same way; no glory, no gold, just humiliation.

And this isn’t even mentioning what their families felt watching the show, whether that be fear or pride or disappointment or anger— either at Chris and the show or even at their own child, in some cases. Like, could you imagine coming back home to your family, your friends, your neighbors, your teachers, your coworkers, after they’d seen you at your worst or most vulnerable on international television— after everyone who’d ever scrutinized or believed in you watched you lose big time. The horror and/or tragedy of ROTI doesn’t end or even really start with the radioactive island; the things that led them there and the things they returned to could be dismal or scary in their own ways.

Anyways I’m so normal about them rghhhhhh

[highhhfiveee]

okay here me out. abby teasing reader about having a crush on mike, and when he's around very 'subtle' teasing from abby to reader... SORRY IF THIS DOESNT MAKE SENSE BUT ITS BEEN ON MY MIND.

it makes sense! i was working on a little ficlet for the "mint" series and i think this works with it (,:

self care

a "mint" ficlet. read the og here: 🍫

wc: 2k tags: mint!mike and reader, fluff, no warnings, just cute stuff (:

mike lets out a long sigh as he turns the car off, rubbing his hands down his face. security work is exhausting, and while he understands working overnight shifts, he doesn't see how it's healthy.

he's always tired, always irritable, always ready to call it quits and say "fuck work", staying home until he's caught up on his winks.

it would be a dream for him, he thinks, but he knows it's not realistic. he's doing this to better his life, better abby's life; it would all be worth it in the end, he hoped.

he exits the car with no urgency, trotting his way to the front door. he's excited to see you and abby, eager to sit and eat breakfast with you guys, tell you about his night.

he turns the knob and it gives with no trouble, which makes his heart rate tick up. the door is never unlocked.

he bursts inside frantically, beginning to panic a bit when he sees that you aren't in your usual spot on the couch, cuddled into one of the blankets or sweeping your green mint wrappers into your hand. the tv wasn't on. there wasn't anything happening in the kitchen.

it was eerily quiet, too quiet for his liking.

"y/n?" he calls, wildly hanging his security vest and kicking off his shoes. "abby?"

mike wonders why the two of you aren't answering, beginning down the hall with his hands balled into anxious fists. what if something had happened to you two? what if he went into one of the rooms and found something undesirable, something that turned him frigid and reserved? what if someone had hurt you?

the light's on in the bathroom, framing the closed door in a fuzzy ring of yellow gold. mike hears voices, muffled but persistent, and music. it's all it takes for him to lean against the door, grip the doorknob and count down before he charges into the wood, slamming the door open and yelling into the bathroom.

you and abby squeal, bodies wracked with fear. you both have green paste all over your faces, spread around your eyes and mouths in a precise layer. you're holding onto your chest as you try to calm down, tapping on your phone to stop the music you're playing. abby heaves angrily, marching over to mike and giving him a moderately powered shove. "not funny, mike!"

"i wasn't trying to be funny," he utters, huffing along with you two. "i thought someone had broken in or something. the door was unlocked and i called for both of you but you didn't answer. i was terrified." you frown, shaking your head in disappointment at yourself.

"i'm really sorry, mike. i took the trash out earlier and i guess i forgot to lock the door when i came back in. i would never try to put abby in harm's way."

"no, no, it's okay," mike returns, taking a deep-rooted sigh of relief now that he knows you two are safe. "i know you wouldn't. mistakes happen, i just lost it a little. wouldn't want anything to ever happen to you two."

your cheeks heat up at "you two". you're flattered that he cares about your safety at the same level that he cares about abby's, or at all really. you knew that abby meant everything to him, but you wondered just how much you meant to him, exactly.

"that's totally understandable. sorry i didn't hear you calling either, we were kind of caught up in the music and face masks," you chuckle shyly, pulling the sleeves of the forest green sweatshirt you were wearing over your hands. it's mike's sweatshirt, one that he thinks he remembers giving to abby sometime ago. you look good in it.

"y/n was teaching me about 'self care', and how doing little things for myself is important. we started with skincare, see?" abby places her hands under her chin, using them to hold her face as she smiles.

it hadn't been your plan to use your $40 face mask on abby this morning, but you didn't mind. you'd been in the bathroom, humming along to the soothing ambient music that floated from your phone speakers and smothering your face in green like you'd be starring in Wicked when she appeared in the doorframe, bleary eyed and lethargic. "may i pee?"

you exited the bathroom and closed the door behind you, opening it back up once you heard the toilet flush and the faucet run. "what's on your face?" she asked, shaking the water off of her hands.

"it's a face mask. this one is my personal favorite. it's specifically for moisturizing the skin, but there are so many other ones that do different things. i do them sometimes as a part of self care."

"what's self care?"

"i can explain it to you. want to try some of the mask after you brush your teeth?" she nodded happily, beginning to shed any trace of sleepiness.

"my skin is a bit dry." you laughed at her, helping her with her toothbrush. after, you'd sat her on the bathroom counter, scooping product with your middle and ring fingers and smearing it across abby's delicate skin.

"so, it's just like...taking care of yourself? literal self care?" you nodded, filling in whatever gaps you could find.

"mhm. just doing small things to make yourself feel better, happy, more fulfilled. we all need to take care of ourselves, living these lives. it's important to remember to take time for yourself when you need it, okay? taking breaks is good. humans need rest."

"mike never rests," she admitted, pouting at the thought of mike working all the time, tired and distant from the strain on his mental and physical health. "i don't even think he knows what rest is."

"i'm sure he does, he's just working hard to make sure you're never in need. he cares about you a lot, and wants you to be safe, and happy, and taken care of."

"which is nice," abby muttered, turning to look at her face in the mirror. she smiled, humming in contentment before facing you again. "i just wish he would go do something. take off from work and go out. go on a date." you jovially scoff at her words, tickling at her abdomen.

"what do you know about dating, huh? does mike even like dates?"

"i think he'd like a date with you." your entire body flushed with mortification, and you stepped back from abby, stumbling over your words with nervous laughter.

"t-t-there's no way he would, abby. that's silly. i don't even like him like that, it would be unprofessional..." you bit at your bottom lip, avoiding abby's eyes.

"oh please. you're my unpaid babysitter, not a salaried nanny," she reassured curtly, and you frowned at her, playfully insulted. "plus, i know you have a crush on him, y/n. it's so obvious. i saw you nearly die when he gave you those mints. i'm sure he see stuff like that too if he wasn't so clueless about everything."

you nodded, gnawing at your bottom lip so hard you drew blood. "well, jeez, thank you for the exposé, abby. still, i don't think he feels the same way. he has no time to think about me." abby only squinted at you, her lips pursed with amusement.

"or so you think." you'd waved her off, pivoting the subject by showing her your skincare collection, explaining all the different tubes and bottles. you'd fanned them out over the counter, grouping things by step.

"and this is vitamin c...usually comes before your moisturizer and helps with dark spots, dullness...you have to wear sunscreen when you wear it, but you should be wearing sunscreen everyday anyway bec----"

mike had burst in at this moment, scaring the shit out of both you and abby. how you'd forgotten to lock the door, you didn't know, but you're glad mike had gotten home before anyone else could enter.

now, mike just tiredly returns his sister's smile. "that's nice, abs."

"yeah, was telling y/n that you should try it. you need to rest and take care of yourself." mike nods, pursing his lips in that tickled way that abby did earlier.

"that so? do a couple of face masks, take a bath, and make some tea to renew myself?"

"sounds like a plan to me," abby cheers, looking towards you. "add going on a date to the list and now, we're talkin'."

"a date?" mike ridicules, shaking his head at abby's frivolous suggestion. "a date with who?"

"i may know someone," abby teases, winking over at you so unmistakably that you're sure you're going to combust with the number of times you've flushed hot. "someone not too far, in fact."

mike can tell that abby is killing you, prodding at your private, adult feelings and decides to make her stop. "okay, abs, that's enough. wash your face while i go talk to y/n, okay? and no eavesdropping."

"i can try, but not promise."

"abby," mike asserts, and she shrinks under his serious stare, mumbling, "okay, okay, jeez."

you follow mike out into the living room, once again tugging at the sleeves of his sweatshirt. it drapes over you nicely, about one size too big, and the color looks so nice against your skin, rich and earthy.

"thanks for looking after her, as always," he commends, eyes still trained on you as you return his kindness with a soft "yeah, always. sorry again about the door." but mike dismisses your apology with a wave.

after a moment, he says, "that sweatshirt's nice," rubbing his fingers against his stubbled chin.

you drop your gaze down, smiling at the clothing item. you liked it a lot. it was super comfy and smelled like their place, pacifying you through the late night and early morning. "oh thanks. i left my sweater at home and abby let me borrow this one. it's so cute on her but it's super big."

"yeah," mike snickers, letting out some air through his nose. "that's 'cause it's mine." your body's color is replaced with flaming red, burning from the top of your forehead to the soles of your feet. how many more times could you be embarrassed this morning?

"oh my god, i'm so sorry. here, i can give it back," you panic, beginning to pull the item over your head, careful to not get your face mask on it. mike stops you with a hand to your elbow, a gentle graze that doesn't move even when you have the sweatshirt back over your torso.

"hey, hey, no need. i gave it to her but i like how it looks on you. you look really beautiful...face mask and all." you blush vehemently, whimpering out "thank you" and bringing your thumb to your mouth to gnaw at so you don't say something else you might regret. you're sure mike can read your jitteriness, and you try to slip into a cool girl attitude when his eyes toss coyness your way.

you'd been babysitting abby for a while, and something about the way you continued to despite the hours and not being paid softened mike. of course he intended on paying you, but even when he did, he would always remember you as so kind, so generous; such a beautiful soul in a beautiful body.

"so...about that date?" he proposes, and the two of you hear a hushed, "yes!" around the corner of the wall. you both turn towards it, catching abby as she runs across the hall to her room.

"abby!"

"i said try!"

how flipping CUTE! i love cute shit like this, and after writing so much smut, it was nice to write something oh so sweet (((: gonna be posting smut next though lmao, just something slight, something slight. hope you enjoyed!

faire's seedlings ✿

@leahdhopkins4321-@pyr0-kai-@angstywhore-@sunazroo-@nyxthoughtss-@mirophobic-@fayethor-@marixsimps-@regretfulme-@ithinkitszeph-@707xn-@cattt777-@violetta-ximena-@amnesia33-@topnerd03-@fastnights-@laprvphette-@savage-aespa-@mfdxz-@0-tatiana-0-@dusstory

[choerypetal]

Helpless Romantic / Jim Hopper

summary: Jim had always harbored feelings for you, but never in a thousand years did he think he'd let something as small as an age gap hold him back. You were in your mid-twenties—young, but not out of reach. And if it took landing a punch on a friend’s face to claim the heart he once believed was unattainable, well… that was a price he was more than willing to pay.

P.S. English isn't my first language, so I apologize for any syntax or grammatical errors. I do hope you enjoy it!

Jim’s stare was never subtle, never went unnoticed. And it certainly wasn’t now, not when Hopper’s cold, unrelenting gaze locked onto you. Joyce sighed—a quiet, weary thing that was enough to break his fixation, forcing him to glance her way before making a show of slumping back into his car. Binoculars in hand, silhouette barely concealed in the dark.

“You know,” she muttered, arms crossed, “if you keep this up, she’s gonna figure out someone really was watching her last week.”

Hopper rolled his eyes. “And you told me it was a smart plan, didn’t you? Let her think it was some random creep—only for her to go running to patch up Billy Hargrove.”

The words tasted bitter even as he said them. He already knew he’d screwed up; didn’t need Joyce rubbing salt in the wound. But watching you with him, hovering close, pressing ice to the bruise on his cheek with all the tenderness Hopper had convinced himself you were too guarded to show—it made his stomach churn. Boil, even. And yet, he kept his face unreadable. Steady. Because after his college crush, after Joyce, he never thought he’d feel this again. Never thought he’d be jealous of another man.

Billy was younger, cocky, reckless. But to you, he was more than that. A friend. Not just a colleague, either—not after that one time he covered your shift when your body felt like it was tearing itself apart, an unspoken favor you never let him forget. You owed him something, you always said. But you hadn’t expected that something to end with a fist near Billy’s jaw. Neither had he.

"Maybe a thanks," Joyce said.

Hopper's grip on the binoculars slackened, fingers loosening as his brows pulled together. He exhaled sharply through his nose, half a scoff, half disbelief. Was she serious?

His jaw tightened as he stared straight ahead, pretending like he hadn’t heard her. Pretending like you wouldn’t hear him, either—not that his truck was parked far enough for that. Finally, he turned to her, expression unreadable. "Thanks?" His voice came low, edged with something unsteady. "You want me to thank you for what?”

“My speed, obviously. Duh.”

Joyce shot him a look—one of those exaggerated expressions that made it painfully clear she was recalling exactly what had happened. Not two minutes ago. No, he meant weeks ago—back when Hopper had overheard El talking about your date.

By some stroke of luck, he’d managed to get details out of her. No peeking, of course. As he’d figured Mike was probably in her room anyway. But then he found out you were there. With Max. Fussing over her hair, twisting strands into something new while she sat cross-legged on El’s bed.

And just like that, the conversation had turned into something else entirely.

“Wh-what are you doing?”

Your voice cut through the moment, snapping his attention back to you. His brows had furrowed—first in anger, then confusion, then something closer to relief. “Did you need something?” you asked again, a chuckle slipping past your lips at his sudden, unannounced entrance. It had caught you off guard, sure, but not as much as the memory El had mentioned earlier. Last night. Mike included. Hopper sure needed to loosen up a bit.

Hopper hesitated. “No… nothing.” His voice was gruff, clipped. Then, after a beat, “What are you doing here?” Now it was him throwing the question back at you. And maybe it was the absurdity of it all, or maybe just him, but your lips curled into a soft smile.

“Max and El wanted some new stuff from the mall. And considering you barely let her step outside—let alone bring Mike—you can imagine how that went.” Hopper scoffed, exhaling a sigh as he shook his head. Typical.

“And you’re staying for dinner?” he asked. Almost forced. You shook your head, appreciating the offer, yet again. But before you could even get a word out, Max beat you to it—grinning, eyes flashing with something smug and a little too pleased. “She needs to prepare herself,” she teased. “Got a date in a couple of days.”

A date?

Hopper blinked. Once. Twice. His brain stalled, like he needed Max to rewind and hit play again—just to make sure he’d actually heard those words and wasn’t just losing it.

He swallowed hard. “A d-date?” His gaze dropped to you, sharp and questioning, and for a second, you almost frowned. Confused. Because, first of all, he wasn’t your father. And second? He didn’t get to make the rules for you. Let alone be all protective Hopper on you. 

“With who?”

The girls exchanged a glance first—silent, knowing. Then their eyes flicked to you, teasing, daring.

They shrugged. Innocent.

But they weren’t. Not even close.

“No one,” they said in unison, straight-faced, before turning back to Jim, their lips twitching with barely concealed grins. To your surprise, that answer satisfied him more than you would have liked. But as soon as the door shut with a quiet click, Hopper gave a single nod—to himself, to the room, to the inevitable conclusion that calling Joyce was not an option. Then— “Oh and—”

The door swung open again, slamming against the frame. El and Max jumped. You, especially. Hopper’s eyes locked onto you.

“When?”

“And you really thought she wouldn’t notice you lurking around?”

Joyce’s voice cut through the silence, sharp with disbelief. “As if it wasn’t enough either, to almost knock Billy out when you scared the hell out of her?” Hopper exhaled, jaw tight, but he didn’t argue—because she was right. “Then again, I am kind of proud that she didn’t noticed you.”  He could still feel the ghost of that damn punch. And yet, none of that had stopped him. Not when he found out where the date was happening. 

Hawkins Forest.

Of all places.

Being Chief had its perks—like sneaking into your date’s location without a second thought. And eureka, there you were, right in the middle of the damn woods. “So now you’re blaming me for protecting her?” His voice came low, defensive, but Joyce just sighed, exasperated.

Joyce sighed, shaking her head before snatching the binoculars from his hands.

Hopper tensed, ready to protest, but she cut him off with a look. “I’d call this stalking more than protecting…” Her voice trailed off, unimpressed.

He rolled his eyes.

But then—

Shit.

One second, you were there. The next? Gone.

And Billy, too.

“Fuck!” 

Hopper searched for you all night.

Rang every damn doorbell he could think of—from the Wheelers to the Hargroves. Even though he knew where you were. And still, you hadn’t noticed him. Hadn’t put the pieces together. The hints, the warnings—everything.

It baffled him.

But Billy? With Billy? That was unthinkable. Insane. It clawed at his ribs, made his blood run hot. Because in Hopper’s heart, you were his. And he’d do whatever the hell it took to keep it that way. 

Hopper’s fingers drummed against the steering wheel as he drove, music blaring—loud enough to drown out his own thoughts. Joyce sat beside him, quiet, the hum of the engine filling the space between them. He was trying to forget. Trying to make sense of it.

The idea of a life with you.

Pointless, at this hour. But still, he let himself believe that this little date in the woods meant something—that maybe, just maybe, it proved something, too. The thought curled bitter in his chest as he lit a cigarette, lips brushing warm paper before the smoke filled the cab.

After dropping Joyce off, he saw it.

His house, lights on.

He knew El was home—curfew was curfew, his rules—but something else was off. Something subtle. Something different. The smell.

Rotisserie chicken. Mashed potatoes. Home-cooked.

Someone else was inside.

His hand hovered near his gun as he stepped out, tension knotting in his shoulders. But it wasn’t the food that set his nerves on edge. It was the music.Low, crooning, bleeding through the walls. And never—not in his lifetime—would he ever blast this kind of shit.

Romantic jazz?

Yeah. Not a fucking chance. 

“El!”

Hopper’s voice cut through the night, sharp, urgent. His first instinct was to call for her—he had every damn right to. Being protective wasn’t just second nature; it was who he was. And if she’d wandered off, thinking a home-cooked meal could buy her way out of trouble, she had another thing coming.

But as he stormed up the porch, fingers twitching as they hovered over the brass doorknob, something about the whole thing felt wrong.

The music. The smell. Too familiar, too intentional. Whoever was inside better have a damn good explanation. Then the door swung open.

And there you were.

Framed in the doorway, wrapped in an apron like you belonged there, lips curling into a soft, easy smile. “Hopper!”

Your voice—light, warm, effortless—settled into him like it fit. Like it had always belonged there. And for a brief, fleeting second, he wasn’t sure if you were even real. “I hope you don’t mind,” you said, an amused tilt to your tone. “I might’ve gotten a little creative tonight. El and I have been planning to bake for a while, and my date just—”

But Hopper barely heard the rest. His stomach twisted. His pulse thrummed.

Because suddenly, all that mattered was that last damn word.

Date.

Jim blinked. Once. Twice. Just enough to process what he’d heard. “Wait—wait, wait. What do you mean your date just—?” He tried to sound casual, indifferent. Like he hadn’t already known where you were just minutes ago. Like he hadn’t been watching. And if he was right—if he had been right all along—then Billy Hargrove would have a word or two coming his way—

“Billy was the one who found me.”

That stopped him cold.

“Poor thing,” you continued, shaking your head. “Something scared me half to death while I was waiting for him. And before I knew it, Billy showed up and gave me a ride home.” Something in Hopper loosened—uncoiled. Relief. Relief. But that also meant, he would need to explain himself later. 

Because Billy, for all his flaws, for all the ways Hopper knew he wasn’t the right guy for you—was still better than what his mind had conjured. A breath slipped past his lips—half a scoff, half something else entirely.

You caught it.

Your brow lifted, head tilting slightly as the corners of your lips curved into something soft, something dangerous.“What’s so funny, Hopper?” 

He shook his head, arms crossing over his chest.

“You really think a date would show up? And out of all places, Hawkins Forest?” His voice dropped into that familiar father-knows-best tone, the same one he used on El when she was testing her limits.

You rolled your eyes. “I can’t help myself, Hop.”

There was something almost vulnerable in your voice now—something real.

“These days… not many guys my age are thinking about the future. The second I bring it up, they freak—like they’ve seen a ghost or something. I thought maybe if I changed things up—if I took a risk—it might spark something.”

You sighed.

“That could’ve gotten you killed, Y/N.” His voice was firm—final—but you already knew that. You knew. A beat passed between you. Heavy. Unspoken. Then—El peeked out from behind you, her soft, sweet presence slicing through the tension like a blade wrapped in silk.

“What’s taking so long?” she huffed, arms crossed, lips forming an almost comically dramatic pout. “I’m hungry.” And she wasn’t wrong.

Because just then, as if on cue, Hopper’s stomach gave an unmistakable growl, betraying him. You almost laughed. Almost.

Because right now, all you wanted was food, warmth, and rest. Anything to erase the weight of the night hanging over you like a second skin. “Then let’s go,” you murmured, fingers ruffling through El’s curls before stepping aside, holding the door open.

An unspoken invitation. Jim hesitated for only a second before stepping in.

And for the first time tonight, something settled.

Settling in, Jim had to admit—he was impressed. Really impressed. You had somehow managed to pull together a full spread in no time, the mashed potatoes smooth and buttery, the chicken practically melting on his tongue. “Damn,” he muttered, savoring the bite. “If I had a penny every time your food was this good, I’d be rich.”

You laughed, soft and warm, wiping a stray smear of sauce from the corner of your lips—then, without thinking, did the same for him.

His body tensed. Just for a second. A split second.

Stay still. Don’t panic.

But it was moments like this—small things, thoughtless things—that did something to him. Something dangerous. And when he looked at you, really looked at you, his gaze didn’t waver.

Didn’t move an inch.

“You okay?” you asked, voice light, a nervous giggle slipping through.

God, you hoped he hadn’t noticed the pink dusting your cheeks.

But he had. Oh, he had.

And it took everything in him not to grin like a damn fool—except, of course, he did. That slow, ego-centric smirk curling at the corner of his lips.

Cocky. Innocent. Infuriating.

“Yep. Totally.”

And that was the moment Jim Hopper—grizzled, cynical, guarded Jim Hopper—felt something hit him straight in the chest.

Love at first sight.

God help him.

"Three-inch minimum."

El’s face twisted in open disgust as Hopper leaned in, his breath close enough to stir the air between you. Almost—almost—he could feel the ghost of your lips brushing his, a sigh slipping through as if the thought alone exhausted him. He hated this. Every second of it. Because, goddamn it, she was right.

Still, he smiled, lopsided, weary. "Maybe I’ve been a little too protective, huh?"

You matched his smirk, eyes flickering with something just sharp enough to cut. A slow nod. A knowing wink tossed El’s way. "And maybe then," you murmured, "you’d let me kiss you instead."

[princess-glassred]

I'm fascinated by what could have potentially happened had Henry succeeded in killing all the losers. Aside from the obvious of Pennywise never being defeated, and assuming IT doesn't kill him because he's a fantastic scapegoat, imagine how big the fallout of this would be.

Henry would be found out almost immediately, if not from his own incompetance then from IT deliberately luring the cops to him so he'd be arrested. He'd either be sent back to the ward for the crimimally insane, or, worst case scenario, Henry's crime might be so heinous Maine would consider bringing back the death penalty just for him. The version of events told by the media would be that Henry is a lunatic who committed a string of murders when he was a young child, then broke out of Juniper Hills and committed another string of murders. The timeline wouldn't match up at all, given that people were dying before Henry broke out, but the media wouldn't focus on that.

This case would probably make national news (at least for a little bit) given that Bill Denbrough, Beverly Marsh, Richie Tozier, and Ben Hanscom were super famous individuals and them all dying together would be an insane story for the public. Of course pennywise covered things up, but these aren't just abused kids or bums who live in alleys. Bill and Richie have an actual fanbase, Ben was on magazine covers, and Bev was a well known fashion mogul. I can only imagine how messy things would be if Tom and Audra died too and the media added them to Henry's list of victims. Audra was a famous actress/model and Tom was Bev's business partner. This shit would have been everywhere.

The goreyness of the case would bring a lot of attention to Derry and I imagine with how insensitive Derry can be they'd use this in tourism. Before this all they had to make people come to Derry was the canal days, so i'm sure sombody would be eager to capatalize on it. The tourism boom would probably cause Derry to be a little gentrified and thus bring more people to Derry than ever before. It would have a plethora of new meals and probably eat more than it'd ever dreamed it could.

Henry would become a pop culture figure, much of the same way we see people treat Jeffrey Dahmer or John Wayne Gacy. IT would love all of that attention because the more people focus on how fucked it is Henry killed people the less people focus on Derry as a whole. Of course there'd been tragedies in the town before, but none of those victims had been famous, and besides: this is the 80's/2010's, the way media sensationalized things would be a lot worse with the prominince of TV/the internet.

There'd probably be some documentary made about Henry's life using what little information they could gather around town. Nobody had even seen henry since he was arrested and nobody talked to him before, so it was basically gaurenteed anyone who got interviewed was lying for attention. There might be a terrible movie made about him at some point, similarly to how in Carrie the black prom incident got a movie that sucked. Henry would probably lack the ability to understand how famous he'd gotten, if not be totally ignorant to it. A few people would get mad that Mike Hanlon and the other numerous victims of Henry who weren't famous get no attention. Tik tok would do it's tik tok thing. True crime crush community girlies would have a field day with young pictures of Henry (especially in the 2017 continuity).

Henry would become a well known person to arm chair diagnose, the kind of killer you write research papers and books about. There'd be plenty of books about Henry too, discussing his fucked mental state and proposing theories about why he did what what he did, a lot of which based on offensive and outdated views of mental health (ie: homosexuality being a mental disorder).

[louloulemons-posts]

Shy smiles

Eddie Munson X Shy!Reader

Summary : Eddie and reader crushing on each other.

Word Count : 1k

Warnings : Not Proofread, major fluff, use of Y/N, kinda rushed, I was in need of fluffy Eddie honestly, idiots in love, very ramble-ly, fem pronouns are used, but readers not described physically.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

He knew you because of Nancy, you were a childhood friend of hers, along with Barb. You were quiet and normally went unnoticed, but not by him. Never by him.

He remembers the first time you caught his eye. You were walking down the hall, waving goodbye to Nancy and didn’t realise he was next to you. Bumping into him, dropping all of your stuff, along with him dropping his.

“I’m so sorry!” You said quickly, picking up his things, along with yours. “I’m sorry too, seems like we were both in our own worlds huh?” He smiled at you, helping you.

Standing up, he handed you a book and you passed him his D20 dice. “I’m really sorry,” you said, meeting his eyes. He was taken aback, you were beautiful. “It’s okay Sweetheart, just mind you don’t hurt yourself okay?” He smiled crookedly.

“‘Kay,” you said, gently. That’s the first word that came to mind. You were so gentle. Not dainty, no weak, but gentle. Like you wouldn’t hurt anyone or anything, you’d do things with care.

Shaking his head slightly, he spoke once more, “Well it was nice to bump into you, you have a good day.”

“You too Eddie,” you smiled slightly. His mouth went slack, you knew him. You knew his name.

You turned from him and carried on to your locker. He stood there, watching you. Not in a creepy way - okay maybe it was slightly creepy. But he was in awe. “Munson!” A voice shouted.

“Let’s go,” Gareth called to him.

“Uh, yeah I’m coming.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

That’s the first time he met you. He thought about it often. Since that day he’d had a sixth sense for you. He knew when you walked in a room, or saw you as soon as he entered one.

And then he met Mike Wheeler, which meant he met Nancy, which meant he met you. Properly this time. He saw you often, but you were so quiet, he didn’t want to scare you off.

Playing D&D in the Wheelers basement has become a regular thing this summer.

It was one of the spaces large enough for the boys to hang out, and as Wheeler parents didn’t mind it was perfect. Eddie pushed up from his seat, excusing himself to the bathroom.

Running up the stairs he waved to Mrs Wheeler and Holly. The pair smiled at him and he carried on up to the next floor. Walking to the bathroom, he hummed to himself, but when he went to open the door someone walked out and into him.

Looking down he saw a familiar face. “Y/N,” he breathed out. “Hey Eddie,” you smiled sheepishly, “Sorry for bumping into you, really need to stop doing that.”

He chuckled, “I’m sorry too. How are you? It’s been a while.”

“I’m doing good, college is kicking my ass but you know,” you shrugged, and he noticed how you played with the bottom of your shirt.

“How about you? How’s everything?”

“Well I finally graduated.”

“I heard! Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” his face warmed. “Oh and I’ve got a new job at Hawkins mechanics.”

“That’s so great, I’m so glad for you,” you said honestly. “That you, what is it you’re studying?”

“Oh forensic science.”

“Wow. I’m not surprised, you were always the smartest girl in school.”

“I dunno about that.”

“You were.”

“I think people would disagree, if they remembered me,” you laughed to yourself.

“Well I remember you. Never forgot.”

You looked up to meet his deep chocolate eyes. “You didn’t?”

“How could I? How could anyone forget you?” You face turned pink and warm, which made Eddies mouth lift in a smile.

“Never forgot you either.”

“Little old me?”

“Yeah you Eddie.”

“Well I’m hoping it was good impression I left.”

“Oh the best.” The pair of you smiled at each other, struggling not to grin.

A door opened down the hall, “Hey Y/N you okay?- Oh hi Eddie,” Nancy said, her head popping round the door. Eddie waved, “Wheeler.”

“Sorry Nance, me and Eddie were just catching up.”

“Oh yeah course take your time,” the girl gave you a knowing smile, and shut the door.

“Well I better let you get back to Nancy,” Eddie spoke. “Uh yeah of course.” Looking down at your shoes, you walked past each other. As he was about to enter you spoke, “Hey Eddie.”

“Yeah Sweetheart?” The nickname made your heart flutter. “I was um - I was just wondering,” you played with your fingers, twisting the rings that sat there. “If maybe, and feel free to say no, if maybe you’d wanna hang out sometime?”

Eddie paused, was this real? It couldn’t be, the girl he’d crushed on for so long was asking him out. “Like .. um like a date?” He asked.

“Y-yeah, like a date. If you want. Or as friends.”

“A date sounds good.”

“Great.”

“Great.”

“Gonna need a number to call,” you smiled.”

“Oh um right, I have no pen or paper, but Nancy has my number. You know cause of Mike and stuff. So ask her and call whenever you’d like,” he rambled on quickly.

“Okay, well I’ll call you then.”

“Can’t wait,” he smiled.

“See you.”

“See you.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

You slipped into Nancy room shutting the door behind you. She sat up on her bed, wiggling in excitement. “So?” She said.

“I asked him out,” you spoke.

“And?”

“He said yeah!” You almost squealed, she ran from her bed and hugged you.

“Oh my gosh this is so exciting!”

“He um, he said to get my number from you,” you laughed, knowing Nancy had given it to you months ago, practically begging you to call the boy you’d fawned over for years.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Eddie locked the bathroom door, unable to stop himself from grinning. Fist bumping the air a few times he was beaming.

He looked in the mirror and spoke to himself “Don’t mess this up Munson! She asked you out. She’s gonna call. You’re gonna go on a date.”

His smile was none stop, when he walked past the room you and Nancy were excitedly chatting in, past Mrs Wheeler and Holly, down to the basement.

The boys looked up at him, at his face. “Let me guess Y/Ns here,” Mike teased.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Thank you so much for reading! Please leave any requests 🤍

[redsrooftopprincess]

SOBBINF I LOVE YOUR DISABILITY HEADCANONS SO MUCH,, MIKEY'S IS A STRAIGHT PUNCH TO THE GUT <33

May I possibly request reader x Mikey where they find out how he copes and helps make him feel more comfortable? Maybe they find him stoned and snuggles are just exactly what he needs at the moment? Possibly even attempting to help him through his unhealthier coping mechanisms? Bonus points if reader has depression as well!

Of course, no rush and you totally don't gotta do this if you don't want!! Headcanons or one-shot would be rad either way, if you are interested in this req!

Your writing is just so real and I love it so much oml. You are doing AMAZING (in general- as a fanfic writer as well I understand the effort that goes into this stuff and maintaining a regular life ontop of it) and thank you for all your hard work!!

I hope this is okay! 😅

Crushed

Warnings: Drugs/Alcohol, Inebriation

"That's what this is, isn't it? A drive by?" he says, standing, and putting his clothes back on. 

You're on the couch in the club's green room, after the best sex of your life. The party ended hours ago, and in your E induced haze, you'd taken his hand and dragged him down here. 

"What? No! Why would you-?" You swing your legs over the side of the couch and walk over to him a little unsteadily, "Mike, no..." He doesn't look up at you. "I mean... is that what you want it to be?" You ask, hesitantly.

"That's what it is," he says simply.

You swallow and inhale, tears threatening.

He finishes putting on his belt and looks up at you, he tries to ignore the tears in your eyes. Regret, that's all it is, that you ever let him touch you. It didn't matter, it was almost sunrise, "That's what it is," he repeats, "That's always what it is."

You hear it, the bitterness, the acceptance in his voice. He just doesn't have it in him to hide it tonight. It breaks your heart. "Michaelangelo, please..." 

"Look, it's almost morning. I gotta get back underground. I'll see you Wednesday," he said, not really sounding like he was looking forward to the next party. He leaves before you can protest further. 

He knows what you're going to say. He's a great guy, but he's not exactly normal, you know? He's not exactly someone you can bring home to meet the folks. And he really doesn't need to hear it. He gets it. He does. And he feels like shit would be a lot easier if he didn't. If he didn't know *exactly* how unwanted he is. Only good for a good trip, and a decent fuck, if you're feeling adventurous. He snatches a bottle off the empty bar as he makes his way out into the alley. 

It had to be you tonight. He already hadn't been in the best place when the party started, so there was no resistance when you took his hand. On a good day, you could lead him into hell, and he'd follow with a smile on his face. On a night like tonight, he'd thank you. You're friends, but in these circles the line between friend and lover blurs easily. You've slept together a number of times and he always leaves right after. You mean everything to him, so he'd let you do anything to him. Use him however you like. As long as he doesn't have to hear you let him down easy.

You dress quickly. You know what's happening. It keeps happening. He's shutting down. Shutting you out. He assumes you got what you wanted, end of transaction, and honestly the sex was great, it's *always* great, but what you want is him. Not sex. And your not letting him run away. Not this time.

You follow him down into the sewers, and find him sitting against the wall of one of the tunnels, knees curled up to his chest and tears staining the fabric beneath his eyes. You startle him and he tries to get up to face whatever might be attacking him, but stumbles, drunk. 

He sits back down once he realizes it's you. Now everything is so much worse. He never wanted you to see him like this. He didn't need you to feel bad for him. You ask him what's wrong and he doesn't want to talk about it. You say that's okay, and move the bottle out of reach, sitting next to him. 

You sit together in silence for a few minutes. You're terrified that saying the wrong thing will send him running from you faster. 

"Mike-" 

"I don't wanna talk about it, okay?" He gets up to leave, taking the bottle with him, and has to catch himself on the wall when he sways. 

You sigh and stand, but don't move to follow him, "Why not?"

"Because there's no point." 

"Why not?"

"Because you..." He looks at you and his heart clenches, he sighs, "forget it." He stumbles a few steps away and stops with a heavy sigh, "I can pretend all I want, and so can the rest of you, like I'm normal... I'm not," he turns around to look at you, his face a mask of escalating pain and injustice as his fists clench tight, "I'm not. I'm not normal. I'll never be normal..." he shakes his head with a sickening smirk, "It's just a game. Everyone gets dressed up to be freaks for a night and we dance and drink and trip and fuck, and at the end of the night, everyone else gets to stop playing and go home because they can. But I can't take the costume off," he says, grabbing his plastron where it meets his chest, "This isn't fucking make up. I can't even walk around in the FUCKING DAYLIGHT!!!" He roars, hurling the bottle he's holding against the wall of the tunnel, a shard of glass ricochets back and cuts his cheek. "I'm not a person. I'm the fucking party mascot." He spits, venomously,

You take a step forward, "Mike, you know that's not true." 

Bitter laughter echoes in the enclosed space. "Funny. That's... That's funny. Really. Because I've been coming to these parties, meeting people, for seven years now. I've watched *seventeen* people end up just like Sarah and Ben." Your friends had been celebrating their engagement tonight, Michaelangelo had introduced them at a party three years ago. 

"I don't get to have that... I'll *never* get to have that," he chokes, "even as a joke. Honestly, at this point I'd take a joke. I'm already pretending to be a person, wouldn't be that hard of a jump to pretend to be loved, too. I'd just have to find someone willing to lie to me..."

He trails off and the silence that hangs in the air once the echoes of his voice fades is heavy and oppressive. 

"Like I said, there's no fucking point..." He turns around and starts walking down the tunnel towards home, one hand on the wall for support. "Don't worry, I'll be back to all smiles by Wednesday. We can pretend like this never happened. This doesn't have to be a thing and you don't have to pretend whether or not it matters if I'm okay." He hears you take a step toward him, "Go home, Y/N," he calls back without turning around. 

Fine. If he's going to leave anyway, you have nothing to lose. "No." 

"Okay, fine," he sighs continuing down the tunnel, "do whatever you want." 

"Okay," you say, simply, as you begin to follow him. 

He stops, shoulders tight, face toward the ceiling, and sighs heavily, "What are you doing?"

"Whatever I want?" you reply, closing the distance. 

He turns to face you, tired and hurting. If you want to go another round, he isn't exactly in a place where he can say no. At the very least, he could use the dopamine. He used to imagine it would be different with you. He should have known better. Jaw tight, he sighs before reaching for his belt.

Your eyes widen as you realize what he thinks you're implying, your heart shattering all over again. You bring your hand up to rest gently on his, stilling his movements. His eyes meet yours. Hesitant. Guarded. Unsure of what you're playing at. Your hand tightens gently around his as you step forward, and he tenses as if he might run. 

You reach up, and pull him down into your arms. He stiffens for a moment, he's already hanging on by a thread, but he can't help it, it's you. Instinct takes over, wrapping his arms around you and buying his face in your hair. 

You feel his grip tighten as the dam breaks, and despite his best efforts at keeping his shit under control, a ragged sob rips through him. 

You hold him as he cries, moving the two of you back to sitting against the tunnel wall. Eventually, the tears dry up, and he pulls himself away. He quiet for a long time, and looks down at his hands in his lap. He can't even look at you, ashamed and embarrassed. You didn't deserve that. To feel obligated to take care of him. You have better shit to do than this.

You reach up and twist one of the tails off his mask around your fingers, tugging once, gently. It draws his attention, and he meets your eyes, begrudgingly. You reach up and wipe the blood from his cheek, meeting his eyes again. "I'm sorry," he whispers, "I'm sorry, I..."

You hush him gently and sit up on your knees. Taking his face in your hands, you bring him down to you, kissing his forehead. 

He doesn't get it. Why are you being so nice to him. You got what you wanted, why did you follow him? Why are you comforting him? Why do you even care? He looks at you in bewilderment. 

"Tell you what," you say, "I'm not super comfortable with the idea of leaving you alone right now, and it's going to rain, and I don't want to get flooded out down here, so... What do you say we head back to my place. I can order us a pizza, and we can watch a movie, and you can head home once you're feeling a bit more sober stable..." You smile, you hope persuasively. 

"Yeah... Okay..." He says, as you help him to his feet. You aren't wrong. It is going to rain, and as fucked up as he is, traversing this set of tunnels in particular will be a little iffy if the storm drains start to flood. 

You bring him home. You do exactly as you say. Pizza. Movie. Ice cream for good measure. He's not sure what to do. He's usually the one doing the entertaining, and now here you are making sure he was happy and comfortable. 

It takes time, but by the end of the movie, Mikey's mostly sobered up, both physically and emotionally. You even get a genuine smile out of him as sunrise looms and he begins to make his way out. 

"So... thanks... for this," he says, looking at you softly. It was probably the nicest thing anyone had ever done for him.

You smile, walking him to the window. "Anytime," you say, taking his hand and turning to face him as you come to the window, "and I mean that. Next time you get into that headspace will you do me a favor and try to reach for a phone instead of a bottle?" 

He smirks, nodding, "no promises, but I'll try."

"Thank you," you say as he reaches for the window. You touch his arm, gently "hey, one last thing," he steps back from the window to face you, and you stand up on your tiptoes and kiss him softly. It's simple, sweet, honest, "there's no reason you can't have what Sarah and Ben have," you whisper, before pulling away. 

He freezes. He's misunderstood. There's no way you're saying what it sounds like your saying, because it's what he wants you to be saying, so there's no *way* it could actually be what you're saying... Right?

You watch the torrent of emotions play out in his eyes, and you reach up to tug n on his mask. "Sunrise, Sunshine." You say. 

"Sunrise..." He repeats before he blinks, shaking his head, "Right. Yeah. Sunrise. I, uh, I'll see you -

"Wednesday."

"Tomorrow."

You say at the same time, before you laugh nervously under his gaze, "If, you know, you're not busy." You don't want to have to wait until Wednesday.

Hope flickers in his eyes. It's tiny and buried under so much hurt and insecurity, but it's definitely there, "I, uh, yeah... I mean, I gotta work, but I'll be wrapping up around two... so, if you're still up..."

"I'll be up," you say quickly, and he can't help but smile as both of your faces grow warm and you laugh gently. 

"Okay... I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then," he says quietly, almost in disbelief. Is this... What? What is this? He doesn't know, but it feels... better. Warm. Comforting. The things you said, the things you did for him tonight, this... He wants more of this. He'll do whatever he has to to have more of this. 

You can't help the grin that brightens your face. "Until tomorrow, then," you say, and kiss him one last time before he slips out into the desaturated predawn light, and is gone. 

.....

Tag list

@thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @fyreball66 @ninnosaurus @tmntngl @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @zagreustomb @ramielll @silverwatergalaxy @gornackeaterofworlds @daedric-sorceress @sophiacloud28 @iridescentflamingo @milykins

[tortillamastersblog]

♕ No Matter What - Part 16 | Lena Luthor ♕

Pairing: Lena Luthor x reader

Warnings: mentions of injuries and slight angst

Summary: Lena is still a no-show. . .

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist

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“Good, you’re doing great. Just one more step,” Dr. Mike encourages, holding my left hand as I walk on unstable legs.

My right hand is wrapped so tightly around the bar mounted to the wall that my knuckles have turned white.

I take the last step before lowering myself into the waiting wheelchair. My hands are shaking and I’m breathing heavily as Doctor Mike crouches down by my side with a beaming smile.

“That was amazing, Y/N,” he says. “If you keep working hard and doing your exercises you’ll be almost as good as new in no time.”

I try my best to smile, but even without the pitiful look on Doctor Mike’s face that follows it I know it wasn’t very convincing.

Ever since we dialed back my pain meds my entire left leg has been tingling and is weak. Sometimes it feels like an electric shock runs through it, all the way from my hip and down to my toes, and Doctor Mike says that even though the weakness will get better, the nerve pain will never truly go away.

Yes, it will also get better, but I won’t ever have physiological sensibility and mobility again.

“Why don’t we get you back to your room, you look tired,” he states rather than asks when I don’t comment on anything that he’s said.

I mumble please and hang my head low when he begins pushing me out of the pt room and back to my own room.

It’s been almost three weeks since what happened and I’ve honestly never felt this empty.

Don’t get me wrong, I was absolutely crushed and numb after Noah was killed, but now there’s just so many things weighing me down that I don’t know if I’ll ever come out on the other side of things again.

To start things off, I’m constantly having nightmares about what happened with Lex. They’re mostly about what actually happened but sometimes they’re also about Lena, Sam, or Ruby getting shot.

Then there’s the whole situation with my dad. He hasn’t visited me since that one time where he tried to apologize, and I’ve been racking my brain ever since if I have it in my heart to forgive him.

There’s also the nerve damage on my lower spine which turned out to be worse than expected. I’m not paralyzed — something I apparently came very close to— but my left leg is basically useless at the moment and the constant physical therapy is painful and exhausting.

And to top it all off, Lena hasn’t visited me even once since I got here. I also can’t get ahold of her on my phone because Lex destroyed it and I have yet to get a new one.

No one’s heard from her. The news outlets are dying for a comment from her about Lex’s and all her friends — Sam obviously included— can’t reach her either.

She’s not at home, apparently, which worries me, but it’s not like I can just walk out of this hospital and go look for her myself.

The only thing that gives me a little peace of mind is the fact that she texted Sam the day I was shot that she had to deal with some stuff and that she wouldn’t be available for some time.

When I first heard about it I was very worried because I know she blames herself for what happened, but then as time went on, I started to hate her for abandoning me.

Now, though, I’m just sad and dejected.

Do I really mean that little to her? I mean, even if she does blame herself, I thought her worry would outweigh her guilt eventually and she’d visit me, but apparently not. . .

Doctor Mike drops me off in my room, making sure I’m comfortable in the bed before leaving with an encouraging smile.

I sigh and close my eyes, only to open them again a couple minutes later when Sam and Ruby stop by.

They’ve been visiting me every day and even though I’m absolutely miserable and can’t wait to get out of here, they’ve been a reliable support system and always managed to cheer me up, even if it’s just a tiny bit.

Sam kisses my cheek in greeting and Ruby hugs me before pulling a deck of UNO cards out of her mom’s purse.

“Can we play?” she asks with a hopeful grin and I pat the space on the bed next to me with a nod.

We’ve been playing this game for a week now and at first ai thought I’d get tired of it, but that has yet to happen. I love playing with the two of them, especially when Ruby giggles after putting down a draw four card.

“Of course, c’mere.”

Sam takes a seat on the chair next to the bed while Ruby settles in next to me. She shuffles the cards and hands them out as Sam tells me about her day at the office.

“. . . and then Marcus has the nerve to burst right into my office,” Sam concludes once Ruby has passed out enough cards. “Can you believe that?!”

I chuckle and shake my head, sorting my cards and fanning them out in my left hand. “I honestly don’t know why you haven’t fired him yet.”

Sam huffs and puts down the first card, a red four. “Yeah, me neither.”

We play a couple of rounds, chatting about God knows what until Ruby decides she’s had enough and that she wants a hot chocolate from the hospital’s cafeteria.

Sam hands her some cash and we both watch her leave before Sam turns back to me with a serious expression.

“Okay, out with it,” she says, moving her chair closer to the bed. “You’ve been awfully quiet lately and I know it’s not just because of Lena.”

Immediately my eyes start stinging with tears and I gulp, trying to force them away. When Sam grabs my hand and squeezes it however, there’s no stopping them anymore and within seconds my cheeks are wet and my chin is wobbling.

“I just— I can’t anymore, Sam,” I admit with a hiccup. “I’m exhausted and-and everything around me reminds me of everything bad that’s ever happened to me.”

I use my free hand to wipe away my tears, but it’s of no use because they just keep coming and there’s nothing I can do about it as everything I’ve been holding back for almost three weeks now bubbles out of me.

“I can’t stand walking past Noah’s favorite coffee shop every morning. I hate seeing my dad’s favorite local beer in bars and I hate all the reporters outside the hospital just waiting for me to talk about Lex,” I whisper, not daring to look at Sam. “It’s too much. . .”

It’s silent for a moment until Sam’s soft touch on my cheek makes my breath hitch. She uses her free hand to wipe away some more of my tears and when I look up to meet her eyes all I can see is sympathy and understanding.

“It’s okay, Y/N,” she says quietly. “I understand what you mean and I think it’s high time you got away from all of this for a while.”

I take a shuddering breath and squeeze her hand. “You’re saying I should leave?”

She nods. “Yes. You could travel and explore the world, or you could just move somewhere else for a couple of years, you know?”

I don’t want to travel. I’ve seen enough of the world for now, having been stationed in a couple of countries while I was in the Army.

The thought of moving, however, makes me pause and think for a second.

It would be a great opportunity to start over, start on a blank slate, and if I ever get homesick I can always just move back to National City.

“But what about you and Ruby?“ I ask. I’ve always been there for them and they’ve always been there for me, too. I can’t just leave them behind and start a new life somewhere.

“We’ll be fine,” Sam assures me with a watery smile. “We’ll always stay in touch, but it’s time for you to start living again, Y/N, rather than just existing.”

“Sammy. . .” I trail off, not exactly knowing what to say. I’m overwhelmed by her understanding and her support, but I’m also sad at the prospect of being away from her and Ruby.

“It’s okay,” she says. “You’ll be okay, and Ruby and I will be okay, too.”

I squeeze her hand again and close my eyes for a second, letting what happened just now sink in.

“I love you, Sammy,” I whisper when I open my eyes again.

Sam sniffles and blinks away some of her own tears. “I love you, too.”

I chuckle and press a kiss to her knuckles right as Ruby returns from the cafeteria. She doesn’t notice our tear stained faces and wordlessly joins me on the bed again, sipping hot chocolate from her paper cup.

She starts babbling about her day at school which makes me smile softly. Every so often Sam’s gaze meets mine and the unrelenting understanding in her eyes puts my mind at ease.

I’m going to be okay, I think, but the question of Lena’s whereabouts and what she’s up to still gnaws at the back of my mind.

It’s been a week since I decided to move and an old friend of Sam’s told her about an apartment he’s just finished remodeling in Metropolis that I can move into at any time.

It’s a big step, moving to the other end of the country, but it will give me the space I so desperately need.

I was released from the hospital two days ago and have since been packing most of my stuff and getting my affairs in order.

I have to take it easy because I’m still recovering, which is why I’m only packing light things like clothes. The rest will be taken care of by a moving company that I’ve hired to start tomorrow.

My left leg is still weak and tingles, but the shooting pains have stopped and all my other injuries have healed nicely.

I have to use a crutch for the time being because I’m still a little unstable on my feet, but Doctor Mike told me that I won’t be needing it soon enough if I continue to do the exercises the physical therapist showed me.

So far the only people who know that I’m moving are Sam and Harper. The latter found out because she was there when Sam called me about the apartment, but she swore not to tell my parents about it.

We’re almost back to where we were before Noah’s death since she, not unlike Sam and Ruby, also visited me in the hospital daily, but it will still take some time for our friendship to be fully restored.

Now, as for my parents, I’ve decided not to tell them about moving until I’m already settled in Metropolis. If I told them now they’d try to stop me from going because they’re both trying to make things right with me, but I can’t start healing if I don’t get some space.

I’ve come to the conclusion that I will never be able to forgive either of them for what they did to me, especially not my dad, but I can see myself being civil with them in time.

A knock on the door makes me pause and drop the stack of clothes I was just about to put into a box onto the bed.

It’s almost dinner time and Sam was planning on coming over with some pizza, so I think nothing of it when I open the door with a lazy smile, but then I freeze when my eyes land on the one person I’ve been yearning to see for almost a month now.

“Lena,” I whisper, taking in her red nose and the snowflakes in her dark hair.

“Hi.” Her voice is just as quiet as mine, if not even quieter, and when her green eyes meet mine in silent question, I step aside and let her into the apartment.

________________________________________________

I’m sorry it’s a bit short, but the next part (probably the final part) will definitely be longer.

*Not proofread yet

Tag list: @nerethos @orange15quote @nuianced-tck-enby @autorasexy @unexpected-character @nothisismax @wandatasha @likeornella @rosea-reginae @aca-biitch @jujuu23

[sofixt0k]

Hey! I want to believe in byler aka in the "Mike liked Will from the start" thing. But idk, Millie said she had a soft spot for the Snowball scene, which yall say was sad because Mike wanted to dance w Will and Etc. And Mike told El in s3 she was his first crush plus Finn also said that

Honestly, my answer would be too subjective. As far as Millie is concerned, I have honestly never taken her words as Bible, When there is a group interview and she starts to be a super fan of Mileven, the others always seem to have the opposite opinion...

Whatever Mike says romantically about Eleven, I clearly don't believe at all, because well, he said that he "had never felt something like that for anyone" But... haha... He's not a good boyfriend afterwards and what he says and what he does always contradict each other.

And what you say about Finn also saying it is like-, again, subjective, if you expect me to tell you here evidence so that you have confidence in Byler it is like complicated if at this point you do not believe in them. HAHAHA

So, yeah.

Finn can't act and say things explicitly about Byler and he can't explicitly criticize and hate Mileven either.

Millie has always had a very childish attitude towards mileven, honestly, I feel that she has changed a bit, let's say...

And Mike definitely doesn't know where he stands and is having an existential crisis.