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kennahjune · 1 year ago

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Steddie

I’m joining the s3 steddie train :D

…

Steve was late. He was so late and so dead. Robin was going to kill him— he’d never make it out of Scoops Ahoy alive.

This was his thought process after dropping Will Lucas and Max off at Mikes. This was also his thought process the entirety of the way to Scoops while he shoved his way through the mall.

The moment he entered the small shop Robins eyes locked on him in a glare. Steve barely gave her a second before he was going to the back room to get ready for his shift.

He heard the back room door open behind him.

“You’re—“

“24 minutes late I know,” he said as calmly as he could while trying to relax his breathing.

“Yeah and—“

“And you get an extra 25 minutes for your break, yes Robin I know!”

Steve finally closed his employee cubby and turned to look at Robin. “Look. Im sorry I was so late today but Will, Lucas and Max are assholes when they’re being petty and they needed a ride to Mikes cause all the others were busy! I’ll take closing shift today to if you’re really that mad.”

Robin stared at him angrily from the doorway. “Fine.” She uncrossed her arms. “And yes, you will be taking the closing shift tonight. I have a study date with a friend that I can’t miss.”

“It’s summer vacation?”

“Shut up!”

Steve shrugged when the door closed.

He closed the door to his employee locker with a little more force than necessary. He had a migraine building and the bright, florescent lights of the mall weren’t helping in the slightest.

He walked out and began his shift.

…

Eddie wanted to enjoy his day off. Preferably by himself. But Gareth and Jeff decided that his personal life was their personal life. So here they were.

He had wanted to spend the day away from the mall, considering that that was where everyone seemed to be nowadays. But the guys were insistent.

So they were walking around. It wasn’t too bad, considering Eddie had gotten himself a new record and tape with his newest paycheck. They were sitting at the fountain when Gareth shouted right in Eddie’s ear:

“HOLY SHIT!”

Eddie just about punched him with how hard he jumped. Jeff spit out his Pepsi all over Eddie.

While Eddie was worrying about getting the sticky drink off of his skin, Gareth continued with; “is that HARRINGTON in Scoops?”

Well. Now he has Eddie’s attention.

Sure enough, just in Eddie’s line of sight, was Steve Harrington in a sailors uniform and a dorky hat.

A dorky hat that was soon snatched up by his current customer, Billy Hargrove.

Jeff clapped him on the shoulder and leaned over him to get a better view. “Is that Hargrove?”

“Yep.” Eddie popped the P.

“It looks like he’s messing with Harrington.”

“Yep.” Another pop on the P.

“And Harrington looks like he’s gonna fucking explode.”

Eddie agreed. Harrington was red in the face and not in the cute blushy-way he usually gets (don’t ask why Eddie knows that). He was talking back to Hargrove, probably something bitchy and sarcastic in typical Harrington-fashion based on the way Hargrove seemed to recoil for a moment before jumping back.

“Should we do something?” Gareth asked skeptically. Jeff shrugged where he was pressed against Eddie’s back.

“I’m going in.” Eddie stood and nearly knocked Jeff down in the process.

“Hang on—“

“Nope! Wish me luck, boys!” Eddie yelled over his shoulder while he dashed over. He heard them both get up and follow him.

…

Steve wanted to cry.

His head hurt so fucking bad and his back was killing him and he had ran into a shelf earlier and had a killer bruise on his arm and leg from it and everything was too fucking much.

Then, in all his asshole and dick glory, in came Billy Hargrove.

At this point, Steve would rather take another plate to the head then have to deal with his annoyingly aggravating voice. Hargrove came in, probably expecting Robin to be there, but got Steve instead. And honestly Steve would rather deal with him then leave Robin with him.

So he’s been enduring it, giving his own comments and comebacks but overall hating his life and just wanting to curl up and die.

Then his savior showed up. In all his black leather and chains, Eddie fucking Munson.

Hallelujah.

Hargrove seemed to back down the moment Munson showed up. Which wasn’t too strange considering that Munson supplied over half of Hawkins’ weed supply. Including Steve’s own for a while. He hasn’t bought in a while cause of the brat brigade.

But not the point.

Hargrove nodded to Munson. “Munson.”

Wow. Real cool, Billy. Steve held back a snicker.

“Heeyyy, Hargrove!” Munson cheerily greeted. But there was something about his smile that was off, to Steve. It seemed tighter than usual, his eyes not crinkling with the motion like normal. Don’t ask why Steve knows this.

Munson’s eyes seemed darker, too. Like he was angry. Maybe Hargrove didn’t pay him? Steve couldn’t bother to care with how bad his head started to pound.

He shouldn’t be at work with this migraine. He knows that. His doctor’s told him this multiple times. But he owes it to Robin for being late so much and he needs to prove to his dad that he can take care of himself.

“So what brings you here, Billy?” Munson asks casually, stepping farther into the shop. Steve seems to finally be forgotten about, and he places his head down on the counter. The cooled surface definitely helps with the spinning room.

He hears Hargrove say something back, but he isn’t paying attention anymore. His eyes are stating to go blurry and he really needs to sit down. But then Munson says something that catches his attention:

“Just leave Harrington alone, man. Last I checked he did nothing to you.”

What the hell? Steve wished he could lift his head and see what Munson was doing. What he looked like when he said that. If he looked as mean as he sounded.

Steve only lifts his head a few moments later when he feels a hand on his back. He shoots up quicker than he intends, and nearly falls back down if not for the hands still holding him up.

“Shit,” he grumbles quietly to himself, whining even quieter at the sudden rush of pain and the black dots in his vision.

“Easy there, your highness.” Munson.

Steve blinks slowly, letting Munson set him down in a booth. He doesn’t remember walking over but he’ll take it. He puts his head back down and intertwines his fingers behind his head. He groans quietly again, the pounding slowly receding.

“Hey man, is there something we could do? Do you need anything?” He heard Munson ask.

We? Steve wants to ask, but finds himself not caring. “Water, and my bag from the back please,” he rasps out. Talking makes the pounding worse.

He hears someone rush off to the back and a moment later a hands on his back again and is helping him sit up.

“Here ya go sweetheart.” Munson slides the glass of water and bag over to him.

Steve silently reaches into his bag and pulls out his small “to-go” med-kit. He carries it around mainly for the kids. Mike tends to be clumsier than he comes off as and Max is always trying out some new skateboarding tricks. From inside the kit he pulls out a pill bottle and swallows 2 with the water and goes for another 2 before a hand stops him.

“I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to take more than 2.” This voice is new but familiar. Steve squints past the blurriness and makes out someone he recognizes from school; Gareth Emerson.

“4,” Steve manages past the lump in his throat. Munson, Emerson, and someone else Steve doesn’t quite know look at him. Munson continues to hold Steve’s hand on the table, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles. It weirdly intimate but the comfort is very welcome.

“4 what?” The other guy asks.

“4 pills. I usually take 4.”

Munson and Emerson both wince. The third guy looks at him like he’s insane. Steve finally recognizes him as Jeff,… something. He actually never got his last name.

“Dude— are you trying to overdose!?”

Steve winced at the sudden loudness, whining quietly. Munson shushed Jeff and Steve heard him rush out an apology.

The bell over the door dinged at that moment, and Steve found himself face to face with Max, Mike, Will, Lucas, and— for some reason— Jonathan.

“Uh— hi?” Steve attempted for a greeting.

“‘Hi!?’” Mike yelled. “Hi yourself man! We called your walkie at least 4 times!! What the hell?”

“Are you ok? Why didn’t you answer?” Will asked in a much quieter tone.

Lucas and Max wasted no time before slotting themselves in the booth with Steve. Munson remained across from Steve, and Emerson and Jeff now hovered farther away, but Lucas slid right in next to Munson and Max next to Steve.

“What the fuck, Harrington?” Max demanded. But she clung to his shirt tightly.

“Language, Mayfield,” he reprimanded quietly.

Mike paused where he stood. “Why are you talking so quietly? Shit— do you have a migraine?”

Suddenly 4 pairs of little eyes were gazing at him with unmasked concern. Holy shit was this overwhelming.

“Guys—“

“Why didn’t you say that, Steve?” Lucas asked.

“Are you ok? How long has it been going on for? Asked Will.

“Why are even here if you’re not able to function properly?” Mike reprimanded in his own caring-ness.

Max clutched to him tighter. “Why aren’t you at home? You could’ve called in sick or something!”

“Shhh!” Mike shushed her.

“Don’t shush me—“

“Shut up!” He whisper shouted. “You have to be quiet and try to control your temperature while resting in a dark, quiet room to try and help with migraines. Pain killers help to but no more than 3.”

Everyone stared at him. He went a little pink under the sudden attention.

“Nancy gets migraines a lot from reading in the dark.”

Jonathan came over right then. Steve was suddenly overwhelmed by all the people surrounding him.

“Uhm—“

“Hey,” Munson called. Steve forgot about him for a good moment. “This is cute and all, but maybe we should not surround him? Poor boy looks like he’s gonna cry.”

Everyone turned to look at him. Tears had— in fact— sprung to his eyes.

“Sorry!” All the kids rushed out quietly at the same time. Max climbed out of the booth and Munson and Jonathan both assisted with helping Steve to the break room. Jeff and Emerson stayed with the kids, but Mike came with them since he seemed to know what he was doing better than the 3 of them.

On their way back to the room though, Steve’s legs nearly gave out from under him. Shit. It’s one of those days. Munson just barely managed to catch him under the armpits while Jonathan got him by the waist.

“Woah there, sweetheart.” Munson grunted.

“Careful, Steve,” Jonathan said quietly.

“Sorry. Spinning.” Steve exhaled shakily.

Mike came rushing back after realized they weren’t with him. “Damn. Spinning? Are you able to walk? Or are they gonna have to carry you?”

Jonathan looked up at the mention of having to carry Steve. “Yeah— I’m not able to carry him. I am so not strong enough for that.” He had the decency to look apologetic.

Munson chuckled quietly and the sound reverberated through his chest where Steve’s head was. It was soothing.

“Don’t worry Big Byers. I’ve got him no problem.”

Steve was given no warning before he was being picked up in a bridal carry. He winced sharply and laid his head on Munson’s shoulder. Jonathan whistled lowly from somewhere beside them and Steve blindly kicked his leg in his direction, scoring in kicking him in the arm. Jonathan snickered.

…

When Munson chased off Hargrove he didn’t expect for Harrington to all but collapse in on himself and try to fucking overdose on like 5 pain killers. He also hadn’t expected to be bombarded by 4 kids and 1 Jonathan Byers. Least of all did he expect to be carrying Harrington bridal style to the break room of Scoops Ahoy.

Somewhere behind him, Gareth turned the sign on the door to closed. Eddie silently thanked him.

The kid— who he vaguely remembers as Nancy Wheeler’s younger brother— opens the door and startles a half asleep Robin Buckley.

“Hello,” Jonathan throws her way before pulling a chair out for Eddie to sit on.

“Uh— hi? What the hell—“

Eddie takes the seat with Harrington in his lap. Robin looks dumbfounded.

“Migraine,” Jonathan helpfully supplies.

“Really, really bad migraine. Vertigo included. Full package tonight, folks.” Mike adds.

“Ok— um, is he ok? He doesn’t look ok. If it was so bad why didn’t he just call in sick?”

“That’s a good question,” Mike retorts quietly while rooting around in a freezer.

“What are you looking for”, Robin asks.

“Ice pack. The dumbass has everything in that first aid kit of his except a damn ice pack.”

“Language,” Harrington reprimanded quietly from where his cheek was against Eddie’s chest. Eddie chuckled quietly when Mike retorted with a half-assed “sorry”.

Eddie couldn’t help but admire the now sleeping Harrington in his lap. He bent in half like a shrimp, his knees just about to his chest, and his hands gripping tightly onto Eddie’s still-Pepsi-soaked t-shirt. But he looked so at peace while asleep. Like he hadn’t just had the worst migraine Eddie’s ever seen and wasn’t just about to pass out on his feet. Eddie smiled.

Mike comes over silently, managing to sneak up on Eddie and make him jump slightly and causing Harrington to whine. He’d been whining a lot today. And under “different circumstances” Eddie would’ve found it hot as fuck.

“Sorry,” Mike whispered. He seemed to be able mellow out a lot when he actually tried. He seemed like such an asshole out at the booth but now he seems quieter. These kids really cared about Harrington, huh?

“Here.” Jonathan helped him out and gently picked up Harrington’s head. Eddie caught Harrington actually kind of leaning into his touch. A strange but endearing friendship. Mike placed the ice pack— now wrapped in a cloth— on Eddie’s chest where Harrington’s head lays.

Harrington lays back down and is out like a light soon enough.

Eddie zoned out until there’s a very, very soft knock on the door. When he looks up, Jonathan is letting the other 3 kids in while Jeff and Gareth stand in the doorway.

“Is he ok?” Asks Jonathan’s little brother.

Jonathan nods and pats his head. “He’s ok, Will.”

The redhead walks over and takes a silent seat next to Eddie so she’s next to Harrington. She takes Harrington’s hand in hers and proceeds to just sit there and hold it.

“He’s ok, Max. Just a migraine,” the third kid, Lucas he thinks, reassures with a hand on Max’s shoulder.

“That’s what he said before. And then he was in the hospital.”

Woah, what?

“Hm?” Lucas looks at him.

Oh. He said that aloud.

“Wait what?” Robin asked quietly.

Jonathan’s whistled lowly. It seems to be a bit of a tic for him. “Yeah uh— funny story. Hargrove broke a plate over Steve’s head last year and nobody realized how bad it actually was until he passed out after claiming it was only a migraine.”

“He ended up in the hospital for like 2 weeks,” added Lucas.

“He needed several stitches on the side of his head.” Max unhappily supplied. Lucas squeezed her shoulder.

“It was a stage 4 concussion,” muttered Will and Mike put his head on his shoulder.

Eddie caught Gareth and Jeff’s eyes across the break room. Huh.

The Will kid came up to Eddie suddenly. “Thank you. For uh— helping with Steve. It means a lot to us. He means a lot to us.”

Mike, Max, and Lucas all nodded.

“Hang on,” Lucas piped up. “Who are you?”

…

So uh— set myself up for a part 2 there :’D

Part 2

#stranger things #steve harrington #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #eddie munson #robin buckley #will byers #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #corroded coffin #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie hcs #steddie fics #steddie #steve harrington whump #steve harrington gets killer migraines #the boy has 3 and counting concussions

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ikarakie · 2 years ago

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one of the known, undisputed rules of riding in steve harrington's car: passenger seat gets music privileges.

if you brought your own tape, and won the usually vicious battle for shotgun, there was a 100% chance that the drive would be backed with music of your choice. hell, there was even a small collection growing in steve's glove box of music that wasn’t his, because people left them behind either on accident or on purpose. no one really knew what steve liked to listen to- maybe minus robin- but he always seemed happy with whatever the passenger put in.

until one day, when dustin and lucas and mike climbed into his car. dustin had won passenger seat privileges, after a rather tense game of rock, paper, scissors, and instantly reached for the tape player.

steve smacked his hand down. "paws off, henderson." he scolded, not unkindly. all three kids stared at him like he'd grown a third limb as he pulled out of the wheeler's driveway. electric guitar played at a semi-low volume.

"what the hell?!" dustin squawked. "why can't i change the tape?" steve rolled his eyes, fingers tapping along to the rhythm of the beat on the wheel. none of the kids recognised the song, and it certainly didn't seem the kind of thing steve harrington would willingly listen to.

"is it so surprising i want to listen to my own tape in my car?" steve asks. dustin shouts an affronted, 'YES!' to which steve just shakes his head and continues driving.

the man on the track sings over heavy drums and guitar, talking about how he needed someone to 'show me the things that make true happiness' and 'he must be blind.' then, there's a guitar solo that steve smiles at.

"who are you?" mike asked, suspicious. "what did you do with our steve?"

"oh, shut up, wheeler." steve meets his eye in the rearview mirror. "next one to complain loses tape privileges for their next three turns."

that does shut them up. they make idle conversation over a couple more songs before they pull up to their destination. mostly threatening each other over high scores and making bets. steve waves them off with the usual 'don't be stupid' lecture and pulls out of the arcade parking lot, the bass of whatever the next track had been audible even through his closed doors and windows.

after that, steve retains ownership of his stereo every now and then, always playing some form of heavy metal. it just becomes the norm, though never fails to confound whoever's in the car. (because, seriously? polo shirt wearing steve harrington and heavy metal?)

they only ever hear anyone else listen to it after they join hellfire. eddie invites them to his trailer to create their characters together, and when they walk in one of the songs from that dumb tape is playing from a record in the corner.

"woah! you like this music too?" lucas asks. eddie nods excitedly.

"yeah, man! you a fan?" his smile dims a little when lucas shakes his head, but dustin is quick to jump in.

"our friend steve is always listening to a dumb mixtape with this sorta stuff on it." he explains, missing how eddie's eyes light up and his smile turns a little bashful. "he used to let us play whatever we want, but ever since he got that tape he makes us listen to it sometimes when he drives us around."

"well," eddie sighs, fiddling with one of his chunky silver rings. "seems this steve knows someone with very good taste in music." there's a warm look in his eyes before he claps his hands and diverts their attention to the character sheets he printed out.

later that night, steve gets a call.

"you told me you only listened to that tape once." the voice on the other end drawls. it's low and teasing, but it's undercut with obvious wonder and fondness. steve doesn't even bother pretending to be confused.

"well, it's good." (it makes me think of you) he replies, like it pains him. eddie giggles, and steve eyes the tape in question. sat on his bedside table, 'for my stevie' scrawled across it in eddie's neatest handwriting. shitty little hearts drawn around his name and an even shittier skull at the end. "how'd you know?"

"recognised my mötörhead record." eddie coos, "told me how you revoke their music privileges to listen to it." a pause. "you're so fucking cute."

steve can't help the dorky smile that spreads over his face. the way he twirls the phone cord like a fucking lovesick loser. he cracks a joke about making eddie a mixtape featuring the likes of duran duran and tears for fears, which makes him fake retch. they chat for a little while longer, whispering 'i love you's through the phones like it was their first time saying it.

the tape stays firmly in the bmw's music rotation.

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qqueenofhades · 1 year ago

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you don’t have to answer if this could cause some discourse, but what’s with all the republicans screaming about the documents biden had? that’s not the same situation, is it?

You tell me:

BIDEN

Is the sitting US President

Had one box of documents dating from his tenure as VP that, during a review by his own staff, were found to be classified

Immediately notified NARA (National Archives and Records Administration) that was the case, within one day

NARA came and retrieved them

The end

This "1,850 boxes!" thing Trump keeps screaming about refers to the UNCLASSIFIED documents that Biden put in his VP library

He does not own, physically possess, or use these documents; NARA does

TRUMP

Explicitly admitted (on tape) that as he was no longer president, it was illegal for him to possess these documents, much less encourage others to look at them, which he then did

Spent months refusing, ducking, ignoring, or obstructing requests by NARA to return the documents he took

Finally, when DOJ issued a subpoena, he also ignored/lied about it

This led to the raid on Mar-a-Lago and the retrieval of the documents, which had been carelessly stored in unsecured locations and shared with God knows who;

Some of these documents are still missing;

The indictment today explicitly spells out that these are extremely high level defense and national security documents, including nuclear, in regard to the US and foreign countries, and that there would be a substantial risk of harm to American interests or individuals if they were disclosed

Trump recruited staff and family in said months-long, ongoing attempted coverup, commiting more crimes (obstruction, etc) in the process

THIRTY ONE COUNTS UNDER THE ESPIONAGE ACT

That.... does not happen by accident. Or even because you took some papers and genuinely forgot to give them back.

Hey anyone remember Mike Pence?

I know, I try not to either

He was also found to have had a classified document at home recently

He returned it and therefore, was not charged

It's so easy to not get charged with 31 counts under the Espionage Act

I cannot emphasize enough how easy it is

Just give the documents back when they ask! Or better yet, don't take them at all! And definitely don't LITERALLY WAVE THEM UNDER PEOPLE'S NOSES AND BOAST ABOUT IT!

Republicans (at least the establishment ones; the crazies are in full-on alternate reality) know this very well

But don't expect to catch any of them saying so

Once again: 31 counts under the Espionage Act

At this rate we will be at 100 separate felonies by the time this summer is over

Or more

I'm not picky

#anonymous #ask #politics for ts

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momoneame · 2 months ago

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theres something ive kind of noticed as like... a pattern within fandom spaces, especially with artists . i can think of two big examples off the top of my head, ghost (the vocaloid producer) and birdie/damagedcoda6669. for some reason, minors (sometimes not minors but considering my two examples were minors when they first gained attention online) with untreated(?) mental issues or neurodivergency who use their art online to cope with their real life get an extremely vitrolic amount of hatred online and generally garner a lot of controversy, which in turn makes the health of the artists in question even worse. take for example taking a long hiatus from being online (either forcefully or willingly) because of becoming aware of the fact that being online is just Not a good thing for your health.

i find it a little weird that, while yes, neurodivergent people Can be problematic and are fully capable of doing terrible things, its like neurodivergent/traumatized artists get the short end of the stick online a ton. this isnt to excuse anything they may have done in the past either- im not gonna whiteknight for them or anything theyre just the first two that pop into my head. theyre people too, yet people in online spaces frequently forget that artists are people as well and that not every issue they may cause makes them an irredeemable person.

i feel like the best way to go about this is like... to not make a spectacle of someones severe mental health issues. it seems like a horrifically obvious statement but especially nowadays online everything is treated like you need to have popcorn in hand to witness it, and it shouldnt be treated like that. artists and content creators are not zoo animals, they are people just creating content and posting it online. as simple as that. you dont need to dig into their personal lives, or make their personal lives so damn public. if a mentally ill person does do that themselves, i feel like it is rude to constantly lambast them for it like they personally slaughtered their (sometimes unwanted) audiences family.

i dont really know if i will ever become an actual content creator online, and i have a lot of personal mental health issues that affect me a lot in my day to day, and the thought of that being the main topic of people who are watching my content honestly scares me! i dont want my mental health to be an integral part of something that i do for Fun. you know .

tldr just treat people with serious mental issues like people without stigmatizing/demonizing or coddling them ... please .... ish not that hard ... treat people like people .....

#mikes tape recordings #birdie #ghost and pals #if the people im talking about end up seeing this somehow since tomskas law is real ummm. hi!#i think growing up on the internet was an extremely bad thing for me and has been for several millions of other people #but hey what do i know im just a filthy neurodivergent minor

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biblio-smia · 1 year ago

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part one | part two | part three

every piece of you wants to stay, especially as abby looks up at you with big eyes and pouty lips, her small fingers holding onto yours like a lifeline.

"i'm sorry, sweetheart. tonight's not a good night."

abby gives you a heartbreaking look but she lets you go, sputtering out a reluctant, "okay."

there's a different look on mike's face (though you suspect it's in a similar strain) but you offer him a smile and a soft kiss on the cheek before he steps back inside and shuts the door behind you.

though regret settles in his chest quickly and only intensifies with each unanswered ring of the phone as he tries to calls max. mike groans as he hangs up the phone, glancing at abby with the realization that he's out of options. abby catches on, too, a glint in her eye as she smiles.

"i will work, and you will sleep..."

it's almost 7 pm. usually, you'd be eating dinner by now. before your few days of solitude, you'd be laughing and talking with abby while you did. now, for the past half-hour, you'd been standing in the door frame of your kitchen, trying to decide whether or not you should eat by yourself or drive over to mike's.

the landline ringing pulls you away from contemplating the very difficult decision.

"hello?"

"hey," mike's voice greets you and you feel your heart flutter. "are you busy tonight?"

you lean against the wall, twirling the phone's cord around your finger. "hmmm, i don't know. are you asking me out?"

mike is quiet for a moment, shocked silence - he'd almost forgotten how easily you make him blush. "not tonight, baby, i'm sorry."

you can hear the smile in his voice and you can't seem to frown.

"no, it's something more... serious. can you come over? it'll be easier to explain."

"give me ten minutes."

mike groans. "ten minutes too long."

you laugh, giving him a sweet bye before hanging up, picking up your keys and giving your kitchen a quick glance. really, at this point you should just move in.

you've barely arrived on mike's doorstep when the door swings open. you're in mike's arms before you can say anything, your arms wrapping around him like it was a natural instinct. mike's face presses into your neck, intoxicating himself with your scent. your presence is a comfort and your arms give mike the sense of safety he's been chasing for years.

mike sighs into your shoulder and you pull away to press a kiss on his cheek.

"something's wrong?" you guess.

mike nods, his arms pulling you close again for just a few more seconds before letting you go (not completely, though - his hand finds yours instantly).

abby's in her room and mike drags you into his. you take a seat on his twin size bed and he follows, making a dip in the mattress that makes your legs press against each other.

there's a book and a tape recorder on mike's bedside table. your eyes wander to the space above mike's bed, where something previously taped has been ripped off.

okay, it hasn't been that long since you'd been in here...

"okay," you nod, ready to listen to whatever it is mike has to say. you're patient as he hesitates, only momentarily, before he finally tells you a few very important details he'd left out from your last conversation. like how he's been reliving his childhood trauma for the past month or so.

you really try not to be upset. you hear the desperation in mike's voice as he tells you that dream... whatever-ing at freddy's has gotten him closer than ever to figuring it all out, finally. his hands shake as he pulls out a folded up paper from his back pocket. you could recognize abby's art from anywhere.

"and look! i... i don't know how, but they're connected, somehow. the kids- they posses the robots and they can talk to abby! they told her about garrett. they know something."

"mike." your hands are on his, urging him to slow down.

"look, i know it sounds crazy." mike's gaze is serious as he looks into your eyes, pleading for you to not think he was a total nut case. "i want you to come with us tonight."

"mike-"

"no, i'm serious. you can see for yourself." and mike is looking at you so desperately.

you sigh. "okay."

mike looks like he’s still ready to convince you, not expecting you to agree so easily.

and then his hands are on your face and he’s kissing you like his life depends on it.

“i seriously-” mike says breathlessly between kisses. “don’t know what i did in a past life to deserve you, but you are… amazing.”

and so you keep your grievances to yourself. you’re really not sure if you’ve gone one step forward or taken two steps back but mike is pulling you into the kitchen to have some of the soup he’s made and there’s really no time to gather your thoughts.

but there is time for the worry you've been feeling for mike to come back tenfold.

abby is somehow more excited than mike to hear that you’ll be tagging along tonight, jumping up and down and thanking you as if you’d just told her she'd won the lottery.

she’s still buzzing in the car and mike’s hand stays steady on yours as he drives. his face is grim as he looks ahead, his eyes occasionally rising to glance at abby and falling on you at a red light (mike would've completely missed the light turning green if it weren't for your hand squeezing his).

but that feeling in your chest only grows and it's starting to make you feel sick. you’re really not sure what you’ve just agreed to.

mike pulls into the front of freddy’s, parking line long since faded. it’s your first time, but even you can point out the cop car not quite fitting in with the rest of the picture.

“vanessa’s here,” abby comments.

"yeah," mike nods, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

"my friends talk about her sometimes," abby begins softly as you come up beside her, taking her hand.

"really?" you ask curiously. "what do they say?"

"that she's nice."

"abby," mike starts with a huff. "if i asked you to wait in the car, would you?"

"no." abby smiles before turning to you. "come on!" if her legs weren't so small, you're sure she would've lost you as she dragged you along.

"abby, wait!" mike calls uselessly.

"guys, i'm back!" abby announces as soon as she enters the large party room. "and i brought someone special!"

"abby."

"hey, vanessa!" abby is unstoppable, pulling you until you're on stage, right in front of her... friends.

"abby!"

you're frozen, standing there as you watch the giant mascots come to life, seemingly without anyone controlling them. they tower over you, large bodies whirring as they turn towards you. their expressions were limited, but you could tell by the way their eyebrows pointed and their mechanical eyes squinted that they did not like you.

"guys, it's okay!" abby assures before leaning in to whisper something. she giggles, and the animatronics... relax, returning to their normal expressions.

"okay, that's seriously freaky," you admit under your breath, watching as abby smiles and laughs with the mascots.

you stay by abby's side, reaching out to wrap a protective arm around her, eyes never letting any of the animatronics out of your sight.

there's a tug on your sweater and a look in abby's eyes you know too well.

abby presents to you, mike, and vanessa a rough blueprint for a fort made entirely by crayon. when abby reveals that she wants to build a fort for all of you, including the animatronics, you can't help but give her a look.

she doesn't seem to notice, caught up in all the excitement, but you catch mike's eyes and know he's sharing your sentiments.

"abby, look," mike starts, hand on abby's shoulder. "now, this is all really fun and exciting, but these things are big, and they could be dangerous, so i think we need to lay some ground rules, all right?"

"we're gonna watch our fingers and our feet," you add warmly.

"vanessa, what do you think?"

it's quiet as the two of you look up at her - mike has told you that vanessa knows a lot about freddy's (though he suspects she knows more).

"i think we could use the tables for the fort." vanessa smiles at abby, hanging back as abby runs off. mike's eyebrows furrow in confusion, but vanessa only throws him a triumphant look before joining abby.

"everyone, follow me! come on."

it's definitely a unique experience, building a fort with animatronics possessed by dead children. but they lift and build alongside you and soon enough, they're more endearing than terrifying.

you catch vanessa trying to bring a table over by herself, quickly placing yourself on the other end and helping her lift.

"thanks," she says quietly, tight smile over her lips. "so, you and mike...?"

"together," you confirm with a nod. "for a while." there's a bit of awkward silence and you really can't tell if there's something you have to clear. "if you were interested-"

vanessa laughs, but you don't give her a chance to confirm or deny.

"-he's pretty... clueless when it comes to those things." you offer a smile and vanessa shakes her head, mouth open to say something when a stray chair catches your eye.

"hey, careful," you stop abruptly before vanessa can trip. she looks to her right and kicks the chair away with her leg.

"thanks," she smiles.

"yeah." you smile right back.

"okay, they're kind of cute," you quietly admit to mike after bonnie's little fall.

"seriously? you too?" mike frowns and you can't hide your laugh.

"what? i'm just saying, i get why abby likes them so much."

mike shakes his head, disbelief in his face as abby waves the two of you over.

"i mean... they're still just kids, right?" you whisper to mike, voice holding a hint of sadness that you try to shake off, tugging mike along to congratulate abby on her genius engineering.

"i like it in here," vanessa calls from her spot on the other side of bonnie.

"me, too," you admit, fingers lightly interlaced with mike's.

"me, three," abby grins. "but... i think it's gonna rain soon."

"sounds like we need a roof," vanessa smiles as she sits up and you can't help but appreciate how she got along with abby. "i'll go see what i can find."

"we'll, uh... we'll come with you," mike calls, pulling you up from your spot so suddenly you almost fall on bonnie. "sorry!" you whisper, patting his arm gently.

"yeah, i take it back, this place is creepy again." you shudder as you enter the storage room.

"what are you looking for, exactly?" mike inquires as vanessa begins digging through a bunch of boxes.

"tablecloths!" she responds like it's obvious. "they used to keep 'em back here for big events."

"right. and remind me how you know that?"

"mike." you warn.

but vanessa won't answer the question and you can feel you start to suspect her knowledge of the place, too.

"found 'em." vanessa smiles as she begins digging into a box and pulling out some fabric.

"god, what is that thing?" your gaze lands on a very creepy looking piece of metal slouched in the corner.

"one of the older models," vanessa comments casually. you stare at her, watching her fold the fabric to make it manageable, barely even glancing over. no, that definitely wasn't common knowledge.

"don't!" vanessa's urgency makes you jump, your head turning to see mike almost stick his hand somewhere it definitely didn't belong. "i wouldn't do that. they're spring locks. they're on all the older ones. they were designed to keep the animatronic parts in place, so that, uh, a person could safely wear the suit. they tend to be pretty unstable. let's see..."

vanessa picks up a broom to demonstrate, sticking it right where mike's arm would've been.

the metal snapped it in a split second. the visual makes you and mike both cringe.

"like i said. unstable."

"is there anything else you'd like to tell us about, vanessa? cause you seem to know everything about this place." mike's words throw no direct accusations, but his tone does. "and what'd if abby'd come in here? what if she'd found that thing?" mike's voice rises and he's on vanessa's tail, forcing you to follow.

"you're the one who brought her here, mike, not me," vanessa spins around. "what i can't wrap my head around is why."

and mike has no choice but to share what he'd told you earlier. e sighs, glancing at you as he begins his confession.

"all right, look. i think that they know who took my little brother. i can't explain it, but when i'm here, i feel closer to garrett. my dreams are more vivid, and it... it's like i can almost..."

"change what happened?" vanessa offers and you're positive she knows something. not even you reacted this calmly.

mike nods.

"did you ask them about this?"

"yeah, i tried. i don't think they like me very much. but... they do like abby."

and that's when it all clicks. you remember your phone call with abby, how mike refused to take her with him. how something about that conversation with mike hadn't sat right. you'd thought it been the whole dead children possessing giant robots then, but you realize what it is now.

"so that's what this entire thing is about? using abby to solve this?" your arms cross now, eyebrows furrowing as you turn to mike.

"okay, i'm not using her, i just asked her to ask them-"

"mike, you said yourself this place is dangerous-"

"yeah, and we're watching her."

a silence settles on the three of you as you realize that, no, you aren't.

you lead the way as the three of you pick up the pace on your way out of the storage room, vanessa and mike picking up their discussion.

"mike. you need to drop this."

"i don't really see how that's any of your business."

"i'm tellling you, you need to let it go."

"who the hell are you?"

"just someone who's trying to help."

you burst out of the dark storage room, eyes trying to find abby in the dim light.

"abby!" you cry, watching her get closer to bonnie - a hand coming up to string his guitar.

"wait, abby, don't!" vanessa cries, but all of you are too late.

sparks fly and abby's on her back, unresponsive when you get to her.

"abby? abby!"

her eyes finally open as she coughs and you breathe a sigh of relief.

"what happened?"

"it's okay, abby. you just had an accident. you're okay." vanessa pulls abby up into a hug - away from you and mike and you watch as his face falls. "i'm so sorry."

vanessa helps abby up and you take abby's hand. "alright, princess, we're gonna get you home."

you have a feeling the argument between them isn't over, so you open up the backseat for abby and get in with her, letting her wrap her arms around one of you and use you as a pillow.

you were right - it wasn't over. though it really wasn't an argument as it was mike getting yelled at and it makes you guiltily reminiscent.

but you don't move into the passenger seat even as mike gets it, already letting him know you're gonna have your own talk once you get home.

"she looked so angry," abby comments tiredly, her head resting against you as you soothingly run your fingers through her hair. "why does everyone always look at you that way?"

mike sighs quietly and you swallow thickly. "let's try to get some sleep, abs." you say quietly, a hand coming up to rub her shoulder.

really, all you did was blink. your eyes flutter open and see the sun has risen during the short drive from freddy's. you're warm, whether it's from the sun's rays or mike's gentle hand on your leg. you're still half-asleep, not really hearing what he's saying, only able to notice how beautiful he looks with the sun shining on him like that.

you almost forget you're upset with him.

mike carries abby in and you let him tuck her into bed (something tells you he needs it more than you do). your feet quietly drag on the carpet, turning into mike's room and pulling on something cozier (and that doesn't have the dingy, lingering scent of freddy's).

you're lingering in mike's door frame, only a few feet away as mike exits abby's room and closes the door quietly. your arms are crossed and you might be frowning as mike bites his lip. you know he knows. you don't trust yourself to even sit on mike's bed, the temptation almost impossible to resist even out of the corner of your eye, so you make your way down the hall to the dining room and mike wishes he could watch you walk around in his clothes under different circumstances.

you sit in the sunlight, silently, and mike thinks he'd rather you yell at him than this. he picks at his cuticles, ripping at a hangnail until it's gone, a little red spot slowly taking its place.

birds chirp brightly outside as you gather your thoughts. you don't want this to be like last time and you're trying really hard to be patient with mike. you can't imagine what it's like to lose a sibling, but he could've lost another last night. wasn't that enough to snap him into reality?

"mike," you begin and mike hopes he never hears you say his name like that again. "i would never ask you to let something like this go," and mike sighs at the familiar request. "but it's becoming... too much."

mike looks up at you now, eyebrows furrowed, ready to be angry. "'too much?' what does that mean, 'too much?'"

you're careful with your next words, taking mike's hand softly, reminding him that you do love him.

"i mean, we got lucky. abby... abby could've gotten seriously hurt."

"okay, it wasn't like i forced her, she wanted to go."

"and you were against it until you realized those... things liked her!"

mike pulls back, his jaws clenched.

"you don't understand."

"so help me, mike. help me understand, because i'm really trying to."

"finding the man who took garrett is the only thing that matters to me!"

"so abby doesn't matter?" and mike falters. "i don't matter?"

mike's heart churns and his head drops. "that's not what i..."

"yeah," you sigh, crossing your arms. it's quiet again and mike can't manage to look at you.

"mike," there it is again. "this is becoming an obsession."

mike scoffs. "it's not-"

"yes, it is! tell me mike, how many nights have you been going there for the past... month?"

mike can't answer. he truly doesn't know. he's still trying to think of a response when your hands are on his face, forcing his eyes to look at you. your fingers sweep over the bags that have taken the spot under his eyes for a while now, wishing you could rub away the dark hues. you thumb over the hair on mike's face - he hasn't shaven in a while, but he hasn't taken care of himself in longer.

"you haven't been yourself, mike. this was the problem the first time. i'm just.. worried, alright?"

mike's heart sinks as he starts to see all of the stress on your face, too. your tired eyes and the small frown on your face. something in him aches and he regrets ever dragging you into this.

your eyes catch the time and you sigh as your hands drop mike's face.

"i have to get to work."

"w... work?" mike stammers. why would you agree to tag along if you had work in the morning?

"call me if you need anything. please." you press a kiss to mike's cheek before taking off, leaving mike to sit there in silence.

he sighs, rubbing his eyes. his body is exhausted but he can't rest. not until it's finished.

"hey, it's mike. i need your help."

that night, you linger in the living room. mike hasn't called, but you just can't shake the feeling that something's not right. you take a seat on the couch, that awful sense of dread in your stomach keeping you from doing anything else.

you're not sure when the exhaustion catches up, but when you wake up it's dark outside and you're not sure if the ringing you heard was just in your head.

and then your answer machine begins to play a bright voice you could recognize anywhere.

"my friend's taking me to freddy's! i don't know where mike went but i'm mad at him... what? okay! i have to go-"

the message ends abruptly and your hands feel clammy as you replay it.

it takes a few more minutes and more than a few deep breaths before you race to your car, fingers fumbling as you get in and hit the gas.

something's wrong. you can feel it.

you're barely in the parking lot of freddy's before you're out of your car, panting and having no idea how you'd made it without getting pulled over.

you approach the entrance and consider yelling out mike and abby's names on the off chance they'll pop out and assure you everything's okay. but before you can get too close, a figure is running out towards you, pulling you towards the side of the building and out of sight of the cameras.

"vanessa?" you're surprised to see her outside of her uniform, holding something that looks dangerous and with a frantic look in her eyes. "vanessa, what's wrong?"

her eyes fall on you as she tries to even out her heavy breathing and she looks wild.

"they've got abby."

"w... what do you mean? they like her, right? they won't hurt her?"

vanessa shakes her head quickly, her eyes teary and her voice quivering. "mike, he..."

"vanessa, please."

"they want to make her like them."

your heart's in your throat as you follow vanessa through the vents, dust and anxiety making it hard to breathe. you feel like you're going to be sick and you would push vanessa if you weren't sure that she was going as fast as she could. the vent cover is already off, making it easier for the two of you make it to the party room. bonnie and freddy are down on the stage, but you and vanessa are crouched and quiet, trying to listen for where abby could be over the sound of your own heart pounding.

foxy doesn't notice as you come up behind him and vanessa electrocutes him, your arms immediately fishing for abby as she screams.

"it's okay," you assure quietly, pulling abby in tightly, the relief you feel so intense tears almost slip out of your eyes. "you're okay."

"foxy!" abby calls out as she backs out of your arms, eyes sad for her friend.

"we're gonna get you somewhere safe so we can go help your brother, okay?" vanessa says worriedly, eyes checking over abby as her hand rubs her shoulder. her eyes fall on you and you nod, picking abby up and listening to vanessa's directions towards somewhere safe.

though there's not much you can do but chase after abby once she spots her brother on the floor, unconscious. you're on your hands and knees, eyelashes fluttering hazily, not quite able to process seeing your boyfriend bloodied and bruised. not quite able to fathom what it'll mean if he doesn't wake up. abby's screams don't quite reach your ears as her small hands try to shake him awake.

"mike, please." you don't even recognize the sound of your own voice, so desperate and shaky.

at last, mike stirs, weakly twisting onto his forearms.

"the drawings," he chokes out. "the yellow rabbit hurt your friends. show them what really happened."

mike's weight is on you as the two of you stumble through the dank hallways, lights flickering and mike panting. "here, here," mike directs and you pull him into a control room. mike stumbles as he reaches for a box, steadying himself against the dusty wall as he grunts, flipping the switch from off to on. you're not sure what it does but your arm is around mike again, pulling him out of the room as quickly as you'd gotten in.

there's a layer of sweat on your face as you push past a door, the last door that finally leads you back to abby.

she calls your names as she runs over, away from the man who's been behind it all. you let mike catch his breath for a second as you pull abby close, the three of you watching as the yellow rabbit is finally punished.

lights begin to fall, shattering the instant they hit the ground.

"alright, we gotta go." you scoop abby up, mike using you as support as you try to navigate your way out safely. you bite back a gasp once you see vanessa on the ground, pale and unresponsive.

"okay, okay." you set abby down and you and mike crouch down to each sling one of vanessa's arms over your necks. mike stumbles, almost falling as he tries to stand and your face tightens with worry.

"hold my hand," you instruct abby. "hold tight. don't let go."

the animatronics are dragging the yellow rabbit somewhere, but you can't spare any attention, focusing on not dropping vanessa and making sure mike is still upright. you're almost at the exit when the ceiling starts to come down, your own panting mixing with mike's pained grunts as the four of you finally make it outside.

"abby, i need you to open up the car for me, okay?"

abby nods and grabs your keys, running up ahead to click the button on your keys. the lights blink and she opens up the back for you and mike to sit vanessa in. you strip yourself of your sweater, laying it over vanessa as abby climbs into the opposite side. "hold her tight, alright?" abby nods, clicking her seat belt before holding onto vanessa's arm. good girl.

you help mike into the passenger seat, kissing the top of his head as he continues breathing irregularly, holding his side and gasping.

you're not the best example for abby as you skip your seat belt, shoving your keys into the ignition and turning them quickly. you peel out of freddy's, trying to remember the quickest route to the hospital. you're way over the speed limit, but not an ounce of you cares.

"keep putting pressure on it," you manage out, hands sweaty against your steering wheel. mike holds himself steady against your dashboard and your eyes constantly bounce between the road and mike, so distracted you almost drive on the curb as you pull into the hospital. it's okay, it's okay, you repeat to yourself as you head straight for the emergency room.

it'll be okay.

mike is cleared first. it's been a few hours and abby's asleep in the chair next to yours. the pounding of your heart kept you awake, tired eyes waiting expectantly each time a staff entered the waiting room.

finally, someone called you over.

"he's awake," the lady with the clipboard says with a smile and you gently shake abby awake. she's still half-asleep as the two of you are led to one of the hospital rooms, bright daylight shining in from the window making your eyes hurt.

but then you spot mike, raised up in his bed and awake and breathing and the weight on your shoulders is gone.

"mike!" abby cries happily, running over to throw her arms around her brother.

"careful, abs," you say softly, though you're barely containing your own excitement.

"no, no, it's okay. i can barely feel a thing," mike assures, pulling abby up into a tight hug.

you come up behind her, the tears you've been holding for hours finally finding their way out, relieving some of the pressure in your chest.

"hey, come here," mike says softly, his arms, still so strong, pulling you close. abby digs her way in again, head resting against your back until you pull her in, too. "i'm okay," mike whispers just before you all let go.

"yeah," you nod, wiping your face before abby can see. "you're okay."

the ride back home is exciting, the three of you making a stop for abby's favorite fast food before you make it home. abby is reluctant to let go of mike as you all trudge in, but her little eyes are closing and she'll wake up with a sore neck if she falls asleep on the couch.

you go straight for mike once she's tucked in. you're pressing him against the wall as you kiss him, careful not to hit any of the bruises on his face. there's no argument from him as his hands find your hips, his thumbs pressing softly into your skin. the both of you are trying to articulate your feelings through the desperate kisses you share, lips swollen and breathing heavy by the time you're finished.

but mike's had something on his chest for a while now, too.

"you were right," he breaths out, chest still heaving from the kisses. "about everything. i was stuck in the past and i wasn't focusing on what was right in front of me," mike's hands are on your face now, making sure you're looking at him (as if you could tear yourself away). "you and abby are the most important things in the world. and i... i love you."

your eyes are wide as you glance from one of mike's big brown eyes to the other, watching him watch you desperately. his eyes stay steady on yours, his fingers slowly thumbing over your face.

"i love you," he whispers again, reveling in the feeling of the phrase slipping off his tongue. "i love you." one more time, just for good measure.

and then you're grinning so wide, your face suddenly warm under mike's hand. your hands are on his, pushing them a little to catch mike in a kiss, completely different than before - this one's slow, the two of you dragging it out as long as you can, each trying to engrave the other in their memory.

but that's not where you want to live. so you pull away and cup mike's face in your hands, forcing him to be present with you again.

"i love you, you idiot. and i'm gonna make sure you know it every single day."

mike nods as he buries his face in your shoulder. he thinks he's crying and you might be, too. there's so many words he wants to say, but he can't quite figure out how to string them together. there's promises to for him to make and to see through, but for now, mike settles on one phrase, repeated into the material of your shirt. he's not even positive you can hear him, but he knows you know.

"i love you. i love you. i love you..."

final part!!! yay!!! i'm still not sure what to call this little mini-series, so let me know :p. & if you want any bonus content for them... requests are open! <333

(also, i am ignoring aunt jane because i have NO IDEA what happened to her in the movie)

#mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt angst #fnaf x reader #fnaf #fnaf movie #five nights at freddy's #v + mike #v writes

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boombox-fuckboy · 5 months ago

Note

any podcast recommendations for guys Going Through It. im a sucker for whump and i’ve already listened to TMA and Malevolent sooo

Fiction Podcasts: Characters Going Through It / Experiencing the Horrors

Gore warning for most, here's 15 to get you started:

I am in Eskew: (Horror) David Ward is arguably the Guy Going Through It. Stories from a man living in something that very much wants to be a city, and a private investigator who was, in her words, "hired to kill a ghost". Calmly recounted stories set to Eskew's own gentle, persistent rain. The audio quality's a bit naff but the writing is spectacular. If you like the writing, also check out The Silt Verses, which is a brilliant show by the same creators.

VAST Horizon: (Sci-Fi, Horror, Thriller/Suspense Elements) And Dr. Nolira Ek is arguably the Gal Going Through it. An agronomist wakes from cryo to discover the ship she's on is dead in the water, far from their destination, and seemingly empty, barring the ship's malfunctioning AI, and an unclear reading on the monitors. I think you'll like this one. Great sound design, amazing acting, neat worldbuilding, and plenty of awful situations.

Dining in the Void: (Horror, Sci-Fi) So, the initial pacing on this one is a little weird, but stick with it. A collection of notable people are invited to a dinner aboard a space station, and find not only are they trapped there, but they're on a timer until total station destruction: unless they can figure out who's responsible. And there's someone else aboard to run a few games, just to make things more interesting. The games are frequently torturous. If that wasn't clear.

The White Vault: (Horror) By the same creators as VAST Horizon, this one follows a group sent to a remote arctic research base to diagnose and repair a problem. Trapped inside by persistant snow and wind, they discover something very interesting below their feet. Really well made show. The going through it is more spread out but there's a lot of it happening.

Archive 81: (Horror, Weird Fiction, Mystery and Urban Fantasy Elements) A young archivist is commissioned to digitize a series of tapes containing strange housing records from the 1990s. He has an increasingly bad time. Each season is connected but a bit different, so if S1 (relatively short) doesn't catch your ear, hang in for S2. You've got isolation, degredation of relationships, dehumanisation, and a fair amount of gore. And body horror on a sympathetic character is so underdone.

The Harrowing of Minerva Damson: (Fantasy, Horror) In an alternate version of our own world with supernatural monsters and basic magic, an order of women knights dedicated to managing such problems has survived all the way to the world wars, and one of them is doing her best with what she's got in the middle of it all.

SAYER: (Horror, Sci-Fi) How would you like to be the guy going through it? A series of sophisticated AI guide you soothingly through an array of mundane and horrible tasks.

WOE.BEGONE: (Sci-Fi) I don't keep up with this one any more, but I think Mike Walters goes through enough to qualify it. Even if it's frequently his own fault. A guy gets immediately in over his head when he begins to play an augmented reality game of entirely different sort. Or, the time-travel murder game.

Janus Descending: (Sci-Fi, Horror, Tragedy) A xenobiologist and a xenoanthropologist visit a dead city on a distant world, and find something awful. You hear her logs first-to-last, and his last-to-first, which is interesting framing but also makes the whole thing more painful. The audio equivalent of having your heart pulled out and ditched at the nearest wall. Listen to the supercut.

The Blood Crow Stories: (Horror) A different story every season. S1 is aboard a doomed cruise ship set during WWII, S2 is a horror western, S3 is cyberpunk with demons, and S4 is golden age cinema with a ghostly influence.

Mabel: (Supernatural, Horror, Fantasy Elements) The caretaker of a dying woman attempts to contact her granddaughter, leaving a series of increasingly unhinged voicemails. Supernatural history transitioning to poetic fae lesbian body horror.

Jar of Rebuke: (Supernatural) An amnesiac researcher with difficulties staying dead investigates strange creatures, eats tasty food, and even makes a few friends while exploring the town they live in. A character who doesn't stay dead creates a lot of scenarios for dying in interesting ways

The Waystation: (Sci-Fi, Horror) A space station picks up an odd piece of space junk which begins to have a bizzare effect on some of the crew. The rest of it? Doesn't react so well to this spreading strangeness. Some great nailgun-related noises.

Station Blue: (Psychological Horror) A drifting man takes a job as a repair technician and maintenance guy for an antarctic research base, ahead of the staff's arrival. He recounts how he got there, as his time in the base and some bizzare details about it begin to get to him. People tend to either quite like this one or don't really get the point of it, but I found it a fascinating listen.

The Hotel: (Horror) Stories from a "Hotel" which kills people, and the strange entities that make it happen. It's better than I'm making it sound, well-made with creative deaths, great sound work, and a strange staff which suffer as much as the guests. Worth checking out.

#audio drama #fiction podcast #rec lists #recommendations #I DID A LIST. Horray for procrastination.

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trevlad-sounds · 4 months ago

Text

For the Birds 9

12.07.2024

Intro 00:00 Lee Hannah-Thermal Pool 00:08 Runaway Horses-Condensa 04:01 Mike Dickinson-Wreckage 06:54 Willebrant-Inlet I 11:20 Darren Harper-Trickle 21:01 Time Rival-Mill St. + Offset Sequencers (Prairie Trail 6-21-23) 22:27 Ruby Singh-Lost in the Grasslands 26:09 Bethany Ley-Cycles Renew 32:21 Simone Gatto-Living In The Paradox Of Consciousness 36:45 Hans Kammerer and Marston Mortaine-Species 44:35 lofield-internal whisper 50:32

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michaelsfavgirl · 8 months ago

Text

in the studio

Pairing: Michael Jackson x fem!reader

Synopsis: After weeks of no intimacy due to his demanding schedule you decide to pay Michael a visit at the studio in a short skirt. Oblivious to the effects it has on him you face the consequences.

Tags: dom!michael, sub!reader, slight exhibitionism, doing it standing up, against a wall, oral (fem receiving), fingering, pussy slapping, p in v, rough sex, creampie, orgasm denial.

Word Count: 3.9k

Requested: yes/no

Author’s Note: Sorry for not being very active these last couple of weeks, uni has started again and it's kicking my butt.

Links: navigation | masterlist | taglist

As you walk through the bustling halls of the studio, your heart swells with anticipation, eager to reunite with your husband amidst his intense recording sessions for his latest album. Despite the excitement, a tinge of concern lingers in your mind, a nagging feeling that something has shifted in his demeanor lately. The late nights and early mornings, the relentless pursuit of perfection—it's all taken a toll on both of you.

You've noticed the change in him, how he's become more distant, more consumed by the music than ever before. It weighs heavily on his conscience, knowing he's neglecting the one person who means the world to him, you. But amidst the chaos of the studio, with deadlines looming and pressures mounting, finding time for each other has become increasingly challenging.

Determined to lift his spirits and offer some semblance of support, you've made the decision to surprise him at work, hoping to inject a bit of joy into his day. As you approach the door to the recording booth, the familiar sound of his voice washes over you, filling you with warmth and reassurance. Inside, you catch a glimpse of him through the slightly ajar door.

“Alright, Q roll the tape again, let’s move on to the adlibs now,” you hear Michael call out to Quincy Jones, the legendary producer, from the booth. His voice seems slightly strained from being in the studio before the sun was even up.

You watch as he readjusts his headphones on top of his head and clears his throat. The melody starts to play throughout the room and he begins to let the music overtake his body. His passion and dedication is evident in every note he sings. His curls bounce with each movement, his expression focused yet illuminated by the sheer love for his craft.

While he does so you look around the room and you spot a familiar face: Janet, sitting on the couch along with a few more people, Michael's colleagues you assume. She suddenly catches your eyes and smiles warmly, gesturing for you to come in and make yourself known. Gently pushing the door open, you enter the room with cautious steps, mindful not to disrupt the creative flow. Taking a seat beside Janet, you exchange greetings and exhale softly, allowing yourself to sink into the comfort of the couch.

"I'm surprised Mike didn't tell me you were coming," Janet whispers, her voice tinged with curiosity as she leans in closer to you, her words barely above a whisper in the bustling studio.

A wistful sigh escapes your lips as you gaze across the room at your beloved Michael, his figure immersed in the creative process, unaware of your presence. "I wasn't planning to, I just... needed to see him," you confess, longing evident in your voice as you speak of him.

Janet's expression softens, her hand finding its way to your arm in a gesture of comfort. "I know he's been a little distant lately. He's like that with all of us too. Hasn't even called Mom in a while, she's starting to worry," she confides, her concern mirroring your own.

You nod in understanding, your gaze still fixed on Michael, unable to tear yourself away from him. "You miss him, don't you?" Janet's voice interrupts your reverie. she looks at your outfit, immediately noticing the short skirt you’re wearing. You finally take your eyes off Michael and knit your brows in confusion. Before you can respond, she nudges you lightly with her knee, drawing attention to the tantalizing view of your legs. Heat floods your cheeks as you glance down at your exposed thighs.

“Oh- it’s, it’s not like that” you feel your cheeks heat up as you protest weakly, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your skirt in a futile attempt to cover more skin.

A mischievous glint dances in Janet's eyes as she smirks knowingly. "Oh, spare me the excuses. It's obvious you two haven't fucked in a while," she teases, earning herself a playful swat from you.

"That may be true, but it's not why I'm wearing this, okay?" you retort, a hint of defensiveness creeping into your tone. "It's just a cute skirt," you add, though the words sound feeble even to your own ears.

Janet rolls her eyes in mock exasperation, but the teasing light in her gaze softens into understanding. "Whatever you say," she concedes with a knowing smile, letting the matter drop for now.

With a shake of your head, you try to refocus your attention on Michael. When you turn your head towards the booth you find his deep brown eyes already looking at you. A soft smile curves your lips as you wave at him, feeling a flutter of joy in your chest at the sight of his chuckle in response.

As Michael announces a short break over the microphone, Janet nudges you once more, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. Taking the hint, you rise from your seat, your heart racing with anticipation as you make your way towards the soundproof booth, eager for a moment of intimacy with your beloved husband.

Passing by Quincy on your way, you exchange a polite greeting which he returns automatically before whipping his head back quickly, his surprise evident as he realizes you've managed to slip past him unnoticed.

As you slip into the soundproof booth with Michael, the outside world fades away, leaving just the two of you cocooned in a bubble of intimacy. With a flick of his wrist, he turns off the microphone, ensuring that your conversation remains private. “I’ve missed you,” you whisper and wrap your arms around him, your head snuggling into his chest.

He returns the affection, feeling how much you’ve been craving his attention that he's unpurposefully depraved you from. Michael returns your affection, pulling you closer, his head resting atop yours as he breathes in the scent of your shampoo, a comforting reminder of home amidst the chaos of the studio. "I know, baby, I'm sorry for neglecting you these past few weeks. You know how hectic it gets here sometimes," he murmurs into your hair, his hand tracing soothing circles on your back.

You nod in understanding and exhale. The tension of your separation melting away in his arms. "I'm happy you came," he adds, his voice filled with genuine warmth, and you can't help but smile at the sincerity in his words.

"Good, I was worried. Didn't want to distract you too much," His response is a playful squeeze of your waist, accompanied by a tsk. "You could never, sweetheart," he counters, his affectionate gaze lingering on you.

"Although your little get-up might distract somebody else here," he remarks, his voice dropping to a deeper, more suggestive tone. Your eyebrows knit together in confusion as you lean back slightly, meeting his gaze. His eyes trace over your body, settling on your short skirt, and you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you realize his intentions. You can see his pupils dilating even in the dim space. You try to release yourself from his arms to pull down your skirt but before you can do that, he tightens his grip around you, preventing your escape.

"Not so fast, baby. You'll have some explaining to do when we get home," he teases, a playful glint in his eyes. "I knew how desperate you can get after not being touched for a bit, but I didn't expect you to prance around here in your tiny skirt, trying to make me jealous," he continues, his tone sending shivers down your spine and causing you to press your thighs together instinctively.

"What? No, no, Michael, I'm not—" you begin to protest, but he cuts you off by cocking his head to the side.

"Shh, didn't you notice how they were looking at you?" he murmurs, tilting his head toward the glass window. Your eyes follow his gaze, catching the embarrassed glances of his producers before they hastily avert their eyes, and you flush with embarrassment, realizing the unintended consequences of your outfit choice. “Practically drooling over you like perverts.”

As you turn back to face Michael, his gaze pierces through you, sending a shiver down your spine. "Thought you could rile me up, hm?" he challenges, his voice dripping with a potent mixture of authority and desire. You open your mouth to respond, but your mind is too preoccupied with the overwhelming sensation pulsing between your thighs. God, you’ve missed his touch so much. Missed him fucking you spineless on your shared bed over and over again. Your mind drifts and you can almost feel the weight of him atop you, stretching you on his meaty cock. You can practically feel his tip rubbing against your clit deliciously.

Reality snaps you back to the present as Michael's strong hands grip your hips, pinning you against a secluded corner of the booth, a blind spot hidden from prying eyes. "I asked you a question, didn't I? Or have you forgotten your manners?" he demands, his fingers firm against your jaw as he lifts your gaze to meet his.

Stuttering, you struggle to gather your thoughts, your arousal evident in the flush of your cheeks and the erratic beat of your heart. "Aw, poor baby," he coos, his tone teasing yet tinged with a hint of affection, "can't even string a few words together." You whimper in frustration, attempting to focus amidst the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body, but the slickness between your legs betrays your desire.

"...Didn't wear it on purpose," you manage to whisper, your voice barely audible. Michael grins, bringing his face tantalizingly close to yours, his thumb tracing your bottom lip. "Speak up, sweet girl. Can't hear you," he taunts.

Your gaze drifts to the exposed skin of his neck, the unbuttoned collar of his shirt a tempting invitation for your hungry eyes. You repeat yourself once more, this time slightly louder for him to hear which satisfies him. "What am I supposed to do with you, hm? I thought you were my good girl, wanted to spoil you for being so patient, but you've ruined that for yourself now," he muses, his tone laced with a mixture of disappointment and arousal.

you look at him with needy eyes as you hear the word spoil. “I’ll be good, I promise,” you plead.

"Of course you will, or else I'll worsen the punishment," he warns. Before you can react, he spins you around, pressing you against the wall and hiking up your skirt to your waist. Gasping at the sudden change, you look over your shoulder but he groans and twists your head back towards the wall. “Be good,” he commands and sinks down to his knees.

Michael's breath hitches as his gaze falls upon your panties, dampened by your arousal. With a knowing smirk, he nudges your legs apart, revealing the tantalizing fabric clinging to your folds. "So predictable," he muses silently to himself, his thumb pressing against your clothed clit. A whimper escapes your lips, followed by the urgent bucking of your hips, desperate for more friction. He grumbles in response, delivering a firm spank to your pussy, eliciting a yelp from you as you jolt forward, your face pressed into the wall.

"Don't be greedy," he admonishes.

Hooking his fingers at the sides of your panties, he slowly pulls them down your trembling legs, stuffing them into his pocket without hesitation. Leaning closer, he spreads your cheeks, his gaze fixated on your soaked cunt. He licks his lips in anticipation before planting heated kisses on the skin, tantalizingly close to where you crave him most. You fight the urge to beg for more, knowing it will only lead to the opposite of what you need.

Without uttering a word, he wraps his full lips around your throbbing clit, sucking it into his mouth with precision and pulling away with a pop. A whimper escapes your lips as you press your palms against the wall, your body trembling with anticipation. Praying that nobody’s trying to sneak a peek.

Michael watches intently as your sensitive nub pulses under his ministrations, his own desire threatening to consume him. He dives back and flicks his tongue against the slick bundle of nerves. He sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, your breath hitching with each exquisite sensation.

Lost in the bliss of the moment, Michael savors the taste of you on his tongue. Lapping at your glossy folds with his eyes closed. The sweet yet tangy flavor makes him dizzy and for a moment, he entertains the thought of forgetting about the naughty little skirt, abandoning all restraint, and indulging in the primal urge to make you cum over and over again.

But the sound of your sweet whines snaps him back to reality, reminding him of the delicate balance between pleasure and control. Reluctantly detaching his mouth from your throbbing clit, he shifts his weight onto his calves.

"Please... fuck, please, Michael," you plead, your words tinged with desperation and arousal, the fear of being discovered only adding to the intensity of the moment. Making you unable to string coherent sentences together.

"What did I say, hm?" His voice is a low growl. "Is it that difficult to follow simple rules, or are you being bad on purpose?" Another sharp slap lands on your drooling cunt, eliciting a cry of both pain and pleasure from you.

You shake your head, unable to trust your voice as you struggle to maintain your composure. Your legs tremble involuntarily, aching to close, but you know better than to disobey so you keep them spread. Michael, ever the attentive lover, notices the tension in your body and grins in satisfaction.

With deliberate care, he brings his right hand to your twitching inner thighs, his touch soft and soothing against your heated skin. The gentle caresses help to calm your racing heartbeat, even as the anticipation continues to build. Meanwhile, he palms his hard cock through his trousers, the friction adding to the heat of the moment.

His fingers move with practiced ease, scissoring against your warm, gooey walls, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Your eyes roll back into your skull as your pussy greedily sucks his fingers deeper, desperate for the long-awaited stimulation it craves.

Oh, how much you've missed this. While you've tried to satisfy your desires in the past weeks, desperately rubbing your clit raw, nothing compares to the feeling of being touched by him. And now that your poor neglected pussy is finally receiving some much needed attention you can’t help but gush around his fingers. The wet squelching noises only serve to heighten the euphoric sensation.

You bite your lip to suppress the filthy noises threatening to escape your mouth, determined to maintain your composure. Despite the overwhelming pleasure, you resist the urge to look back at Michael, to look at his face as he pleases you, so you try to be a good girl, you keep your eyes fixed on the wall in front of you. Your hand trembles as you contemplate whether or not you’re allowed to play with your puffy pearl that’s aching for some loving.

As his gaze locks onto your wandering hand, inching dangerously close to your center, he delivers a stern warning: "Don't even think about it." You whimper in frustration, complying by bringing that hand under your shirt to play with your tender breasts, seeking some form of relief from the overwhelming arousal coursing through your body.

He continues to revel in the moment, his eyes glued on your glistening cunt, betraying the depth of his desire. Despite his stoic exterior, he's missed you more than words can convey. Countless times, he's found himself excusing himself from the studio to silently relieve his pent-up longing, imagining the sensation of stretching your pretty hole. Yet, afterwards instead of the satisfying sight of his release dripping out of you, he was met with the sight of his sticky cum on the floor.

Glancing down at his stiff cock, straining against the fabric of his trousers, he realizes he's reached his limit. He’s been holding himself back from ripping your clothes off from the second you walked into the booth with that adorable smile. With your slick coating his palm, he decides he can't wait any longer.

Though you pout from the sudden lack of stimulation, the sound of him rising to his full height, his warm minty breath tickling your ears, sends shivers down your spine. Then, the unmistakable sound of a zipper being undone and shuffling fills the air, followed by the sensation of his leaking tip at your entrance.

You gasp as his precum smears across your folds, mingling with your own juices in a tantalizing blend. His hand wraps around his fat length and guides his bulbous tip up and down your slick slit with agonizing slowness. With deliberate care, he pulls back his foreskin, revealing his sensitive cockhead to your needy heat, a silent promise of the pleasure to come.

His palm presses against the wall in front of your face, a silent command for you to lean into it. It's not the first time he's taken you against a wall like this, but this time feels different, more tender, knowing how fervently he's going to take you in just a moment. The juxtaposition drives you crazy. He steals a quick glance at the window, ensuring that no prying eyes are watching, before returning his full attention to you.

With a swift, fluid movement, he invades your tight hole, burying more and more of his meaty cock inside you without giving you a moment to adjust. As he fully sinks into you, his coily pubic hair brushing against your cheeks, he snakes his other arm around your middle, pulling you closer to him in a possessive embrace.

In no time, he's slamming his hips against yours with a fervor that leaves you gasping, your mouth hanging open in a silent plea for more. Your hands scramble to grasp onto him for support, seeking some anchor amidst the overwhelming sensation of being filled to the brim with his massive cock. Each thrust sends a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body, the slight sting of his size stretching you to your limits mixing with the electrifying pulse of desire. Heavy balls slap against your clit as you hold onto the last bits of your dignity, before turn into a moaning mess for him.

"Missed me, sweet girl?" His gravelly voice whispers right behind your ear, sending shivers down your spine and making your eyes flutter. You nuzzle your face against his hand, lips brushing against his skin in a tender gesture of affection, even amidst the raw intensity of your coupling. With each snap of his hips, your body surges forward, surrendering to the pleasure that threatens to consume you entirely. As you trail kisses up his forearm, he smiles at the gesture, goodness you make it so hard to stay mad at you.

With his front pressed firmly against your back, he continues his relentless assault on your eager body, his cock plunging into your slick walls with a merciless rhythm that leaves you powerless to resist. Uninhibited, pornographic moans spill from your lips, echoing in the dimly lit room as he drives you closer to the edge of ecstasy. His movements grow more animalistic, his groans mingling with yours as he presses kisses to the nape of your neck, stoking the flames of desire that threaten to consume you both.

"Of course you did," he taunts, his words laced with a mixture of amusement and arousal as he notices your legs beginning to give way beneath you. "Look at you…can barely stand on your own two feet."

Your high pitched whines ring in his ears, the unmistakable scent of sex hanging heavy in the air as your pussy clenches around his thick cock, craving release. his veins dragging deliciously against your warm walls, molding your cunny back to his shape. Whilst he pounds his shaft in and out of you with each roll of his hips his round balls slap against your pulsing nub. intensifying the stinging sensation that drives you closer to the brink of orgasm.

"Mi-Michael, I'm close…oh god, fuck, gonna cum…" you manage to choke out between ragged moans, your entire body trembling with the impending release. Your eyebrows furrow, and tears prick at the corners of your eyes as the overwhelming pleasure threatens to consume you entirely, your nails digging into his skin in a desperate attempt to ground yourself amidst the ecstasy.

"Gonna stuff you full of my cum, is that what you want?" His voice is deeper now, laced with a primal urgency that matches the frantic pace of his thrusts. You nod eagerly, your breath coming in short gasps as you cling to him, your entire being consumed by the need for release. "Yes…yes, please…"

Before you can fully comprehend what's happening, you feel the hot spurts of his cum painting your walls, each thick glob of creamy seed filling you up completely, leaving no empty space as his essence dribbles out of you and down his balls, creating a sticky mess. “God…such a pretty pussy, yeah, that’s it baby, take it.” His groans of pleasure echo in the room as he sloppily thrusts, your cunt milking him fully before he finally pulls out, his cock softening.

As he pants behind you, his breath tickling your neck, you squeeze around nothing, whimpering in confusion. Ignoring his cum oozing out of you, you finally dare to turn your head around. You watch in a daze as he stuffs his wet cock, your slick still clinging to his skin, back into his boxers and pulls up his trousers.

"...What...I-" you stutter, trying to clear your head, only for him to cut you off with a mocking pout and chuckle.

"What, baby? You thought I was gonna let you cum?" He smirks and fixes his hair. Looking so infuriatingly composed as if he hadn't just rocked your world while leaving you a disheveled mess with his seed leaking down your inner thighs.

"But, but you-" you start again, but he interrupts, turning you around carefully and pulling your skirt down lower than it was previously.

"None of that, don't be ungrateful. You're gonna tell me you didn't like getting your sweet pussy stretched, hm?" His tone is teasing yet firm as he tries to make you look as presentable as possible.

"I did, I just thought you'd...you know..." Your words trail off as you struggle to ground yourself, your gaze meeting his through half-lidded eyes.

"Thought I'd let you cum?" You weakly nod in response, swallowing hard.

"Foolish girl," he murmurs, his lips quirking into a small frown as you squeeze your thighs together, still feeling your clit throbbing for release.

"Come on now, let's go. I'll teach you a real lesson when we get home." He wraps his arm around your body, patting his pocket to check for your panties, not wanting Quincy to find them again and scold him like last time.

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