#second of all. as my favorite guy mike said:

[nevermeanttoknow]

hes a vast avatar to me for reasons

[emphistic]

On the Court

Taglist: @starlets-things

Basketballplayer!Sukuna who, whenever he shows up to practice, always gets asked about you by his teammates (sometimes random people — that he doesn't even know — ask him about you, too)

"How's Y/N doing?"

"Tell Y/N I said hi."

"I haven't seen Y/N around lately, how is she?"

"You'll ask how my girlfriend's doing, but not me? She's good — by the way." Sukuna always feigned to be hurt by these inquiries. He really wasn't . . . most of the time.

Basketballplayer!Sukuna who insists you give him a kiss before all of his games

"C'mon, baby, just one?" He pleaded. "You know you're my lucky charm."

You would always laugh, giving in to his desires. And in the end, he wasn't wrong. Sukuna comes out of most matches as victorious, thanks to you.

Basketballplayer!Sukuna who loves when you come to his practices, this doesn't happen often because you have to babysit Yuuji

Basketballplayer!Sukuna who, if you do come to his practices, always acts like it's a Magic Mike show: he'll wipe the sweat off his face with his jersey just to show off his bare abs; he'll drink from his water bottle like a dog, making the water drip all over

When he's feeling extra scandalous, he'll even say, "I'm so sweaty, babe. Come lick it."

Basketballplayer!Sukuna who always searches for you in crowds

Basketballplayer!Sukuna who would, without even a second of hesitation, skip a practice or even a game if you asked him to hang out or something like that

Basketballplayer!Sukuna who takes immense pride in showing you off as his

Sukuna pointed at you in the crowd to a new teammate of his, "See that beautiful lady over there? That's my girlfriend. My girlfriend."

Sukuna always teases, saying, "I wouldn't be surprised if we lost this game. I'll probably be too distracted looking at that absolute work of art sitting over there."

Albeit, sometimes his pride backfires on him.

"Isn't my girlfriend just so gorgeous?"

"Yeah, she is. She's like super hot," his teammate remarked.

"What the fuck did you just say about my girlfriend, you little son of a bitch."

Basketballplayer!Sukuna who gets so jealous when other people sit next to you at a game, but he can't (because he's playing) — sometimes you bring his baby brother, Yuuji, along with you and Yuuji sits next to you or on your lap, and Sukuna literally glares daggers at his brother

There was this one time, where a guy decided to sit next to you in the bleachers, and started to mansplain basketball to you. He told you all the rules, all the positions, and he even had the nerve to narrate Sukuna's game to you. And you, deciding not to interfere, just politely nodded.

It wasn't until the end of the game, when Sukuna had the chance to put this little boy in his place. Like you guys always do, you ran down the bleachers to congratulate Sukuna on his win. Most of the time, it's just a tight hug where the both of you share a chaste peck. But this time, Sukuna shoved his tongue down your throat, all while glaring at the guy from earlier.

Basketballplayer!Sukuna whose teammates always come to you whenever Sukuna gets mad after a loss; they know you're the only who's able to approach him without getting punched in the face

Basketballplayer!Sukuna who loves when you care for him after he gets injured

Basketballplayer!Sukuna who gets really annoyed when people try to hit on him, especially if they get in his way when he's trying to talk to you

"Hey, I saw you playing and you're like, really good."

"I know."

"I didn't catch your name."

"I didn't throw it."

NSFW Below

Basketballplayer!Sukuna who loves to fuck you while you wear his jersey; he can't help it; he just loves to see his last name on your back

Basketballplayer!Sukuna who would take you against the bleachers if you let him

Basketballplayer!Sukuna whose favorite position is having you on your hands and knees on the bleachers, he'll purposely pound into you just to feel you wobble and shake on the bleachers

Basketballplayer!Sukuna who fucks you like a rabid animal after a loss; he needs to get rid of all the pent frustration

Basketballplayer!Sukuna who'll tell you to be quiet whilst shoving his fingers in your mouth

Basketballplayer!Sukuna who meets up with you in the locker room after everyone's left, he gets annoyed when people tarry and delay his meeting with you

Basketballplayer!Sukuna who, after fucking in the locker room, will proceed to take you again in the shower room

Basketballplayer!Sukuna who absolutely degrades you, pulling on your hair and making you hiccup and sob, he thinks you look divine when there's mascara running down your face and you've lost the ability to say or think anything but his name

"Look at you, milking my cock dry. You were made for this; you were made for me. Dirty fucking slut. My dirty slut."

Basketballplayer!Sukuna who also whispers sweet nothings in your ear

"You're so beautiful, baby," his words were slurred, as his hips came to a stutter. "Such a good girl for me. Ah, shit. Look at the mess you've made of me. 'm drunk off of you, pretty girl."

Basketballplayer!Sukuna who goes round after round, his stamina is 100% inimitable

Basketballplayer!Sukuna who is not against sex in the car if people don't leave the gym fast enough

Basketballplayer!Sukuna who always has so much left over energy after a game that he fucks you senseless, leaves you absolutely destroyed, till your legs are shaking, cum is dripping between your legs, and you're mind is completely blank

[qqueenofhades]

Obviously the main contrasting narrative of the Harris campaign is (rightfully, the ads almost write themselves!) prosecutor vs convict. But I keep thinking about how, in one of her first campaign speeches, she had Biden on the phone and he said something like "I'm here, I love you Kid" and she said "I love you too" and just... That compared to the Jan 6th Mike Pence situation. Like this election is about democracy over fascism but it's also about love and kindness and sincerity on the level of person-to-person relationships.

Well... yeah. As Minnesota governor Tim Walz put it when he was doing the TV rounds for Kamala the other day, the Republicans are just weird people. They are mean, petty, reactionary, focused on revenge and retribution and making people suffer, their rhetoric is about shame and violence and punishment, they are all about Who Your Enemy Is, and their drift into ever more extreme fascist positions is a reflection of that. And strongman/fascist authoritarianism is often popular during moments of chaos and upheaval in the rest of the world, because the unknown feels so scary and people keep falling for the lie that a helpful dictator strongman will turn up and make it all better. It never happens, but it is a powerful lie and it can work for several years at a time, as we have (unfortunately) seen. (And Tim Walz is definitely climbing the list of Old White Guys I Like; supposedly he is on Harris' initial VP shortlist, and while I certainly have favorites of my own, she could very much do worse.)

However, and this is why fascist movements always plant the seeds of their own destruction, this constant garbage spew of hate and vitriol never ever works forever, and usually not even all that long. Because once you spend your time destroying everyone else on your mean stupid crusade of mindless bigotry, you lose friends, you alienate the ordinary people who are more interested in having something to be FOR rather than just constantly against, and eventually you eat your own. And while it will shore up your ever-dwindling cult base, it will not be able to expand beyond the people who are already fully indoctrinated, and it will lose more people than it attracts. As I have said before, one of the key tenets of fascist movements is presenting themselves as powerful, inevitable, and almighty: just surrender to them now before We Crush You (tm) later! But they are not! They are goofy, stupid, mean, and just plain (thanks Gov. Walz) WEIRD! Nobody wants to be those guys!

So yes. With the whole fact of a party where one guy tried to get his first VP killed and now has picked another reactionary loser who is the least popular VP pick in 50 years, and the other is joyfully supporting his VP, a woman of color (after serving loyally to the first Black president, Biden has set the way for the -- knock on wood -- second, and that is also amazing), it's really easy to see the difference, and very clearly, people do. Kamala offers something to rally FOR, and that is always, always more powerful than mindless hate. Sucks to be the GOP. (As usual.)

[ladykailitha]

The Harrington Pattern Part 1

Hey, guys! Sorry I'm late uploading today, but I went to bed early last night and forgot to schedule this.

Oops!

But! Welcome to what I've been calling Steve is a History Nerd agenda. We see in season two on Steve's essay for colleges that he can link his grandfather's military service with his prowess on the basketball court.

It is also surprisingly well written. *shakes fist at the Duffers stop telling us he's stupid and then showing the opposite, please! Let him be smart, too!*

Summary: The Renaissance Fair is finally back in Hawkins after three year absence (Starcourt was built on the fair site and after the fire it was bulldozed back to it's original field). Everyone is excited, even Steve to everyone's amazement. But Steve is hiding other hidden depths as he offers to help the kids make their costumes for the Fair.

Lucas is struggling with being both a nerd and a jock and fears the judgment of his friends. Steve sets out to help him overcome those doubts to be himself.

Tagging the untaggable: @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

***

Nobody expects Steve to be excited for the Renaissance fair. Dustin, Will and Lucas spend hours plotting bribes, schemes and out and out manipulations to get Steve to agree to take them. Even Robin expected him to side with her about the dust and the filth. Eddie expected him to be dismissive of the fantasy aspect of it.

Boy were they all wrong.

For it was Steve to bring up to the group after a rather successful D&D session.

In his hand was a bright pink flier and a wide grin on his face.

“Guys! The Ren Fair is back this year,” he said in lieu of a greeting. “I’ll finally be able to show off that tunic I’ve been working on.”

All heads turned to Steve in shock.

There was a cacophony of questions.

“Since when did you know how to sew?”

“What do you mean back? I didn’t even know Hawkins had one to begin with!”

“You want to go to the Ren Fair?”

“Why would you want to spend all day in the heat and dirt?”

Steve looked around at all off his friends in shock.

“Guys, I love the Ren Fair,” he muttered. “Didn’t you guys know?”

All their jaws dropped.

And Eddie? Eddie felt an icicle to the heart at the sight of Steve’s hurt expression.

“You’ll pardon the peasants, my liege,” Eddie said, bowing grandly. “I’m afraid we have all be harboring under the delusion that Ren Fairs were beneath your notice.”

Steve blinked at him a moment. “But I love that stuff. It’s the history and sword fights and jousting. It’s the like medieval Olympics. It’s the romance and chivalry of knights fighting for a fair maiden’s hand. It’s getting to dress up in fancy clothes and rip into turkey legs like a savage. What’s not to like?”

Dustin frowned. “Who here knew Steve liked history?”

Robin and Nancy raised their hands. They looked around waiting for me people to join them. But they stayed down.

Steve ducked his head and scuffed the floor with the edge of his sneaker.

“The ex-girlfriend I’ll buy,” Dustin continued. “But Robin didn’t become friends with Steve until after he graduated so how did she know?”

Robin blinked at them owlishly. “You mean you guys don’t know?”

Everyone looked around each other and then shook their heads.

“Steve was in my AP history class my junior year,” she said as if this was know fact.

“You do know that AP stands for advance placement, right?” Mike asked.

Eddie smacked the back of his head. “She was in it, dude. Don’t be an ass.”

Steve looked up at him and smiled a little.

Good, Eddie thought. Nothing like a little Mike violence to cheer up Steve.

“He wrote an essay for early placement college exams,” Nancy said. “He didn’t get a chance to turn it in because of our second go round with the Upside Down, but it was really good. It needed a little neatening up with the actual writing, but the history was solid.”

Steve blushed. “Thanks.”

Dustin looked skeptical. “What’s your favorite part of history?”

Steve opened his mouth and then closed it again. “I liked hearing about my grandpa’s time in the US army during WWII, but that was more because he made it interesting. But I really like the Industrial Revolution. Or rather the first Industrial Revolution. There have been four. The first one was from 1760-1840 and featured heavily in the textile movement.”

The room was silent.

“Why textiles, Stevie?” Eddie asked as the silence grew awkward.

Steve lit up like a child at Christmas morning and he began talking about the British textile movement.

“What the hell?” Dustin huffed, breaking into Steve monologue.

Steve ducked his head again and blushed. “Just because I’m not interested in science and fantasy doesn’t mean I’m stupid.” He straightened up. “And yeah, sometimes I get things wrong. But everyone does at some point. In fact I get a hell of a lot more flack for my intelligence than Eddie does and he repeated his senior year twice!” He took a deep breath and then ran his fingers through his hair.

“No offense,” he said waving to Eddie.

Eddie looked up at him with earnest eyes. “None taken. I concur.”

They all looked around at each other in shock. Like they hadn’t realized that they had done that.

After a few moments, Steve put his hands on his hips and pointed at all of them.

“So do you guys want to go or what?”

Eddie sat back with a smile as everyone roared their approval.

*

“No corsets,” was Robin’s only firm and fast rule for Steve when it came to dressing her up for the Ren Fair.

Steve looked her up and down. “Why on earth would I want you in a corset? Have you looked in the mirror?”

“Uh...” Robin said. “Is that a trick question? Of course I have. I don’t what that has to do with saying no to corsets though...”

Steve rolled his eyes. “In order to give you the curve you need to match the proper silhouette you would need to be cinched to hell. And as this is supposed to be fun.”

He grabbed her hand and started hauling her toward his car.

“Where are we going?”

“Thrifting!” he said with glee.

It took three different stores and a stop at the mall to get everything he needed.

“Give me three days,” he told her when he dropped her off at her house. “And I think you’ll like what I come up with.”

Robin eyed him warily. “If you say so.”

Steve laughed.

He crashed the next D&D session, showing up early to pick them up.

“What is everyone wearing to the Ren Fair?” he asked with a note pad on his lap and wagged the pen in his fingers.

“You want us to dress up?” Mike asked, eyes wide.

“Why not?” he asked with a shrug. “I’ve made my costume and currently reworking some thirfted threads for Robin’s outfit.”

Eddie blinked. “You made your costume?”

Steve shrugged again. “Yeah. I like sewing.”

There was suddenly an uproar and he held up a hand. “I can’t make you a full outfit before the Fair, but I can make over already made clothes to make them more historical. And maybe for next year I’ll have the time to make something special for everyone.”

Dustin eyed him suspiciously. “Like what?”

“Like tailoring pants to a tighter fit,” Steve explained “adding a sash or belt, turning old coats into vests and cloaks, things like that.”

They still weren’t sure how that would work out.

“Now I talked to Joyce and Claudia,” he continued. “And they’re both willing to help out in making sure everyone has something nice to wear. That includes Max and El.”

“Are the fair maidens joining us?” Eddie asked.

Steve nodded. “Yeah. Joyce is doing El and Will, Claudia is doing Dustin and Mike, and I’m doing Lucas and Max. Eddie said he already had a costume, so I didn’t have to worry about him.”

Eddie grinned. “You better believe it, pretty boy.”

Steve ducked his head and blushed. “So we’re all going thrifting with a $5 limit for each of you. But I wanted to brainstorm some ideas of what you wanted to go as so we don’t waste time wandering around.”

Everyone started shouting at once and it took Steve a good ten minutes before he got everyone calmed down enough to get what they wanted. Dustin wanted to go as a hobbit, but Steve had to nix that one.

“You don’t want to go running around the grounds barefoot,” he explained with a wince. “It’s not safe.”

“I’m going to have to agree with Stevie on this one,” Eddie said. “You guys have never been but there is all sorts of stuff laying around. It’s not indoors and the pathways are dirt lined. Think the state fair. It’s more like that then going to comic book convention.”

Dustin grumbled but conceded the point. Steve got them to decide on... well not quite peasant gear, but more rough around the edges than what Steve would be wearing.

Well, all but Lucas. He didn’t want to wear what they were wearing but he refused to say what he did want to wear.

So Steve dropped him off at home last.

They pulled into his driveway and Steve turned to him. “Do you not want to dress up? Because I won’t make you.”

Lucas picked at the loose string on his sweater. “It’s not that. I just remember the last time we did a group costume and they all thought I should be Winston because I was black like he was.”

Steve frowned for a moment. “The Ghostbusters, right?”

Lucas nodded. “I knew if I brought it up they’d shoot me down again.”

“So what did you want to go as?” he asked.

Lucas huffed out a sigh. “It doesn’t matter. It’s a stupid pipe dream anyway. Especially since you have to make Max’s dress and Robin’s costume, too.”

He opened the door to get out, but Steve reached over and slammed it closed.

“One, Robin’s costume is almost done,” he said counting out on his fingers. “Two, do you really think your girlfriend is going to want to wear a dress? And three, let me be the judge on what’s too much for me, okay?”

Lucas huffed a laugh at his second point. “Yeah, that was dumb of me.”

“So what is it?”

Lucas looked down again and heaved out a sigh. “An elf.”

Steve’s mind was whirling with the possibilities. “What colors?”

“What?” Lucas asked, not sure he heard Steve right.

“What colors would you want it to be?”

He pulled out the notebook and scrambled for a pen. Lucas pulled a pencil out of his bag and handed it to him.

“Uh I was thinking of a light blue and with a silver trim?” he said hesitantly.

Steve sketched something out. “Like this?”

Lucas leaned over to look at the drawing. “A little shorter so I’m not tripping over it and maybe those puffy pants?”

Steve adjusted the drawing and Lucas nodded.

“Yeah, like that.”

“All right,” Steve said. “I know exactly what to do and how to do it. It won’t be perfect because I don’t have time to do it right so I’ll be doing a lot of cheating. But yeah, it’s doable.”

Lucas gave him a hug. “Thanks, man.”

*

Steve called the one person he knew he could help him.

“Eddie,” he said the second the other man picked up. “I need your nerd connections to do a huge favor for Lucas.”

“Wha’cha got, big boy?” Eddie asked with a grin.

“You wouldn’t happen to know any Trekkies would you?” Steve asked chewing on his bottom lip.

“That depends, Stevie,” Eddie replied, “what’s the need?”

“Pointed ears.”

Eddie hummed. “I’m assuming you’re thinking Trekkie because of Spock and that’s a good thought. But I’m guessing since we’re going to the Ren Fair our stalwart ranger is wanting to be an elf?”

“Yeah,” Steve said. “Do you know anyone who can help?”

“Better than that,” Eddie said. “I know where to get the ears in the right... shade?”

Steve perked up. “Oh? I’m guessing Jeff?”

“Right in one, darlin’,” Eddie said with a soft smile. “I’ll give him a call and then call you back.”

“Thanks, Eds,” Steve breathed. “You’re the best.”

“Thanks, doll.”

****

I am so excited for this, guys. You have no idea. I'm little history nerd myself and this really fun to play around with.

Just a heads up. We WILL be addressing Mike's casual racism from the Ghostbusters scene because I don't like that it's never been addressed.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 @artiststarme ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual

[doctorbitchcrxft]

A Very Supernatural Christmas | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: discussions of childhood trauma lol, discussions of religious trauma lololol, canon violence, canon gore, talking about Dean's deal sad face

Word Count: 7223

A/N: One of my favorite episodes of all time ever. I am so excited to share this with you guys. Thank you, thank you, thank you for all of the support. I love y’all!

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

In the middle of nowhere in Michigan, you and Dean posed as FBI agents investigating a holly jolly potential case. 

“Um, my daughter and I were in our beds,” the woman before you shakily explained.

“Mike was downstairs decorating the tree. I heard a thump on the roof, and then, I heard Mike scream. And now I’m talking to the FBI.”

“And you didn't see any of it?” Dean questioned. 

She shook her head tearfully. “No, he was… he was just gone.”

“The doors were locked? There was no forced entry?” you asked. 

“That’s right,” she replied. 

“Does anybody else have a key?” you suggested. 

“My parents.”

“Where do they live?”

“Florida.”

Sam then walked out of the house. “ Thanks for letting me have a look around, Mrs. Walsh. I think we, uh, got just about everything we need. We’re all set.”

“We’ll be in touch,” Dean told her. 

The three of you started down the steps. 

“Agents?” Mrs. Walsh called.

You turned to face her. 

“The police said my husband might have been kidnapped.”

“Could be,” Dean shrugged. 

“Then… why haven’t the kidnappers called? O-Or demanded a ransom? It’s three days till Christmas. What am I supposed to tell our daughter?” she began to cry.

“We’re very sorry,” you said empathetically. You watched the distressed woman turn to go back inside, and the heavy Christmas wreath on the door clunked against the door when she shut it. 

“Find anything?” Dean asked Sam as the three of you walked away from the house. 

Sam sighed. “Stocking, mistletoe… this.” He took something out of his pocket and dropped it into Dean’s hand. 

You inspected it. “A tooth?” you asked upon seeing the bloody bone. 

“Where was this?” Dean looked up at Sam and away from the tooth. 

“In the chimney,” Sam replied. 

“Chimney? No way a man fits up a chimney. It’s too narrow,” Dean grimaced. 

“At least, not in one piece,” you winced. 

“Alright, so, if dad went up the chimney—”

“We need to find out what dragged him up there,” Sam finished. 

***

Christmas had never been a completely happy time for you. Growing up Catholic, there was always a hint of, perhaps, fear that came with the holiday. The idea that Christ was supposed to come again, and his second coming would mean the end of the world was unsettling to you, even as an incredibly pious child. 

Working jobs around the holidays always managed to recreate that unsettled feeling for you. Something so gruesome like the case you were dealing with now around such a happy holiday always made you nostalgic for a childhood you never had: an innocent one. 

Around your motel room, Sam was pinning pictures of demons up while you researched on your laptop. The door opened, and Dean came inside. 

“So, was I right? Is it the serial-killing chimney sweep?” Dean smirked, carrying a brown paper bag.

Sam mirrored Dean’s expression. “Yep. It's, uh, it’s actually Dick Van Dyke.”

Dean looked confused, but you snickered. 

“Who?” Dean asked. 

“Dude,” you said, “Mary Poppins?”

“Who’s that?” 

“Oh, god, you’re hopeless,” you sighed, shaking your head.

“Well, it turns out that Walsh is the second guy in town grabbed out of his house this month,” Dean explained. 

“The other guy get dragged up the chimney, too?” Sam asked. 

“Don’t know. Witnesses said they heard a thump on the roof,” Dean shrugged. “So, what the hell do you think we're dealing with?”

“Actually, I have an idea,” Sam replied. “Uh, it's gonna sound crazy.”

“What could you possibly say that sounds crazy to me?” Dean deadpanned. 

“How ‘bout evil Santa,” you smirked.

Dean considered a moment before nodding. “Yeah, that’s crazy.”

“Yeah… I mean, I’m just saying that there’s some version of the anti-Claus in every culture,” Sam said while he showed Dean drawings of the creature. “You got Belsnickel, Krampus, Black Peter. Whatever you want to call it, there’s all sorts of lore.”

“Saying what?” Dean looked incredulous. 

“Saying, back in the day, Santa’s brother went rogue and now he shows up around Christmas time, but instead of bringing presents, he punishes the wicked.”

“By hauling their ass up chimneys?” Dean snorted. “So, this is your theory, huh? Santa’s shady brother?”

Sam shrugged. “Well, ah, I’m just saying, that’s what the lore says.”

“Santa doesn’t have a brother. There is no Santa.”

“Yeah, I know. You’re the one who told me that in the first place, remember,” Sam sassed at his brother. 

Dean looked down, seeming to feel a little guilty. 

Finally, Sam sighed. “Yeah, you know what, I could be wrong. I gotta be wrong.”

Dean shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not.”

You and Sam were confused. 

“I did a little digging. Turns out both victims visited the same place before they got snatched,” Dean explained. 

“Where?” Sam asked. 

***

The place Dean was referring to was a cutesy little craft fair called “Santa’s Village.” Children played and people bustled around wearing Christmas costumes. 

“It does kind of lend credence to the theory, don’t it?” Dean remarked, looking around himself. 

“Yeah, but anti-Claus? Couldn’t be,” Sam replied. 

“It’s a Christmas miracle. Hey, speaking of, we should have one this year,” Dean suggested casually. 

You remained quiet, feeling almost sorrowful at his statement given he’d discussed bringing this up to Sam with you.  

“Have one what?”

“A Christmas.”

Sam scoffed. “No, thanks.”

“Aw, c’mon, Sam,” you said, swallowing your emotions. 

“Yeah, we’ll get a tree, a little Boston market, just like when we were little,” Dean continued. 

“Dean, those weren’t exactly Hallmark memories for me, you know,” Sam reminded his brother. 

“What are you talking about? We had some great Christmases.”

“Whose childhood are you talking about?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on, Sam.”

“No! Just… no.”

You and Dean were both surprised by Sam’s petulance. “Alright, Grinch,” Dean snarked. He walked ahead, and you remained by his side. 

“What’s Sam talking about?” you asked quietly. 

“Ah, I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I mean, Dad was out all the time, and Sammy and I fought… a lot… as kids, but I didn’t think it’d scar him.” 

You turned back to Sam who still seemed lost in thought. 

“Hey, Scrooge,” you called, which seemed to shake the younger brother out of his own head, “you comin’?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m with you.” He caught back up to you and Dean. 

“What are we looking for, again?” Dean asked him. 

“Um…” Sam trailed off, “lore says that the anti-Claus will walk with a limp and smell like sweets.”

“Great. So we’re looking for a pimp Santa,” Dean said dryly. “Why the sweets?” 

“Think about it, Dee,” you replied. “If you smell like candy, the kids will come closer. Which is wrong on just… so many levels.”

Sam chuckled. 

“How does this thing know who’s been naughty and who’s been nice?” Dean questioned. 

Sam shook his head. “I don’t know.”

Dean turned toward a man dressed as Santa taking pictures with a child whose mother stood close by. “Maybe we do,” he noted.

***

Later that night, you and the Winchesters were just about to confront and kill who you thought was your Krampus. Fortunately for the Santa actor from earlier in the day, you realized the man was just a lonely old creep. 

After an uncomfortable rendition of “Silent Night” that Dean led you and Sam in singing in an attempt to explain why you were in the creepy Santa’s house, you slumped down in the backseat of the Impala.

“Well, back to square one, I guess,” you sighed. “Also, Dean, couldn’t you have picked a song you actually knew the words to?”

“Hey, I did know the words,” he replied, beginning to drive off. 

“Yeah, all two of ‘em,” Sam chimed in. 

You giggled. “Hey, Sam?” you asked. 

“Hm?”

“Why do you hate Christmas so much?”

The younger brother sighed. “(Y/N)...”

Dean took the opportunity to jump into the conversation. “I mean, I admit it. Y’know, we had a few bumpy holidays when we were kids.”

“ ‘Bumpy’?” Sam scoffed. 

“That was then. We’ll do it right this year,” Dean tried. 

“Look, Dean. If you and (Y/N) want to have Christmas, knock yourselves out. Just don’t involve me.” Sam shifted in his seat to face the dark night that had fallen outside of the car. 

Dean grumbled, “Oh, yeah, that’d be great. Me and (Y/N) making cranberry molds.”

You knew Dean wasn’t actually opposed to just enjoying Christmas with you, but he wanted to involve his brother.

***

“Wanna smoke?” you asked Dean. 

Sam was still wide awake in his bed, and you and Dean had some things to talk about without the younger Winchester present. 

He nodded and followed you out of the room. 

Despite the lack of snow on the ground, you were bundled in one of Dean’s hoodies to protect you from the slight chill in the air.

“I think you’re turnin’ me into a fiend,” Dean commented as you lit your joint. 

“Well, I’d rather you smoke a plant than drown yourself in booze,” you replied, a slight tremble in your voice from the cold. 

“I meant to tell you earlier,” Dean began, taking the joint from you and looking at the ground, “you’ve got a real beautiful voice.”

You laughed softly and hopped up on the trunk of the Impala. “You’re only sayin’ that ‘cause you and Sam are terrible.”

“I’m serious,” he said, blowing the smoke at you playfully. 

You scrunched up your nose and shut your eyes to avoid the puff. When you reopened them, you found Dean staring at you with that confusing expression again. After all this time, you still couldn’t place what that look meant. 

“What?” you asked, a smile tugging at your lips. 

He shook his head, still admiring you and smirking. “Nothin’.”

“So, do you want me to talk to Sam? About Christmas?” Dean’s intense stare was making you nervous, and you needed to break it up with the conversation you initially wanted to have with him. 

“Nah,” Dean shrugged. “I’m sure he’ll come around.”

You opened your arms to him and gestured for him to come lean against you. He turned his back to the Impala, and you wrapped your arms around him. You kissed his shoulder before placing your chin on top of it. The two of you just sat like that in silence in the cold, enjoying each other’s company while getting lost in thought. 

“What was your Christmas like? As a kid, I mean?” Dean asked, breaking the silence. 

You picked your chin up off his shoulder and stuck your hands in your pockets. “Oh, gosh,” you sighed. “It was always a little less ‘candy canes and Rudolph’ and a little more ‘fear and condemnation’.”

Dean jumped up on the trunk next to you and turned, clearly a little surprised by your answer. “What do you mean?”

You shrugged. “Christmas always kinda felt like a threat to me. Y’know, ‘Jesus is gonna come again’ and all that.”

“That’s… weirdly dirty,” Dean commented. 

You gently nudged his shoulder with yours. “Perv. Meaning Jesus is gonna come back to life and, like… destroy the planet. My mom always said Christmas was a reminder that this is not our true home.”

“This, as in, earth?” he asked, genuine intrigue in his eyes. 

You nodded. “And we’re all gonna end up being judged. And if you don’t believe or follow the commandments, you’re sentenced to Hell.”

“Jesus,” Dean grimaced. “That’s a little dark to be telling a kid.”

“Tell me about it,” you smirked. “But… if that’s the truth, at least we know I’ll be seeing you again.” You turned to him, smiling a little lopsidedly.

He tried to return your smile, but his heart wasn’t in it. “I’m scared, (Y/N).” 

You nodded. “I know. Do you wanna talk about it?”

He shook his head. 

You took a moment to let his mind recover from his anxieties. “What were your Christmases like growing up? You said they were good, but you never told me why they were good.”

“Uh, let’s see,” Dean began, reflecting on something in his memory. “There was this one time when Dad was supposed to make it back from a hunting trip. He’d promised Sammy he’d be home for Christmas. But, uh, Dad never showed.”

You looked at him sadly. 

Dean’s eyes remained focused on his hands in his lap. “I was maybe twelve. Sammy was eight. And on Christmas Eve, while he was asleep, I went out and found this really nice house.”

“You did not!” you scolded playfully, knowing exactly where he was going with this. 

“I did,” Dean chuckled. “Only, I didn’t know they were chick presents. Sam was pissed when he got a Barbie instead of the green army men he’d been asking for.”

“You did the best you could,” you reminded him.

Dean shrugged. “And, uh, since he never made it back, Sam gave me the present he was planning on giving to Dad.” He thumbed the amulet around his neck and showed it to you. 

“That’s so sweet,” you smiled, a tinge of nostalgic sadness behind your smile. “My little brother and I always gave each other what we could. Normally, it was just stupid little things from the gas stations around or something.” You smiled, remembering your brother fondly. “When he was seven, Steven gave me a little bracelet. He stole it out of a girl’s backpack pocket when she was waiting for her parents to finish booking a room in the motel lobby. He was a great pickpocket; you guys would’ve gotten along great.”

Dean chuckled. 

“But anyway, uh, it was a little friendship bracelet. I was so upset when I grew out of it,” you said. “Biggest regret of my life is burning it with his body.”

Dean nodded somberly. “Why’d you do it?”

You shrugged. “I kept telling myself, ‘He doesn’t live in the stuff. Keeping his stuff doesn’t keep him alive.’ And I’d grown out of it, so I figured, I’d never have any use for it again. But, uh, I was an angry teenager. I was so angry at him for so long after he killed himself. I definitely threw the bracelet in the fire in a moment of anger.”

Dean just stared at you, and once again, you couldn’t read his expression. 

“You keep giving me that look,” you said, staring deeply into his beautiful eyes. 

“What look?” he asked. Dean clearly knew what you were talking about, as his face hadn’t really changed from the look in question; there was simply a slight tease behind his eyes on top of it. 

“That look,” you said, giggling. “It frustrates me so much ‘cause it’s, like, the only facial expression on the planet I can’t read.” “Then, I’m definitely not telling you what it means now,” Dean taunted, still smirking. 

You rolled your eyes and hopped off the car. Dean grabbed your arm and spun you back around to face him, putting you back on the trunk and standing between your legs. He kissed you deeply, hands eagerly trying to pull you closer despite there being no more room between the two of you. 

“Dean,” you said between kisses. “Dean—”

“What?” Dean pulled back just long enough to ask you and then returned to kissing you. 

“We have to go to bed now, c’mon,” you replied. 

“Aw, c’mon, not yet,” Dean groaned, trailing his lips down your neck. 

You sighed shakily at the feeling of his soft lips against the sensitive skin, and your eyes closed in content. “C’mon,” you whined. “I’m freezing.”

“Fine,” he groaned. 

***

The next day, another poor soul had gone missing. According to the son of the man who was abducted, Santa had dragged his father up the chimney. As you left the house, Sam noticed a wreath on the hearth he’d felt noteworthy enough to ask the grieving wife about. 

“Wreaths, huh?” Dean taunted, sauntering away from the woman’s house. “Sure you didn’t want to ask her about her shoes? I saw some nice handbags in the foyer.”

“We’ve seen that wreath before, Dean,” Sam said, ignoring his brother’s flippance.

“Where?” you and Dean asked in unison. 

“The Walshes’. Yesterday.”

Dean eyed Sam curiously. “I know. I was just testing you.”

You rolled your eyes, ducking down into the Impala. 

***

“I’m an idiot,” you groaned, dropping your head back.

Sam sat up from behind his laptop. “What, why?”

Dean turned to you from his spot on your shared bed as well. 

“That smell,” you said. “Guys, we’re not dealing with Krampus.” You laughed at your own stupidity. “I should’ve known it from the wreath on the door at the Walshes’ house!”

“(Y/N), would you cut to the chase?” Dean asked dryly. 

“It’s meadowsweet,” you revealed. 

Dean whistled mockingly. “Wow! Amazing. What the hell is meadowsweet?”

“It’s pretty rare, and it’s probably the most powerful plant in pagan lore,” Sam replied. 

“Pagan lore?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Meadowsweet’s for human sacrifice. It’s kinda like chum for the gods. The gods are drawn to it, and they’d stop by and snack on the nearest human.”

“Why would somebody be using that for Christmas wreaths?” Dean wondered. 

“Almost every Christmas tradition is pagan, Dee,” you replied. 

“Okay, Ms. Catholic, I thought it was Jesus’s birthday,” Dean snarked, a smile playing on his lips.

“No, uh, I had to unlearn that when I left the Church. Jesus’s birthday was probably in the fall. Yule was the winter solstice festival the church stole and renamed ‘Christmas.’ ‘Cause, y’know, eurocentrism. Hooray,” you explained. 

Sam added, “The Yule log, the tree, even Santa’s red suit; that’s all remnants of pagan worship.”

“How do you know that? What are you two freaks gonna tell me next? Easter bunny’s Jewish?” Dean remarked. 

Both of you rolled your eyes. 

“So, you really think we’re gonna be dealing with a pagan god?” The older brother quirked a brow. 

“Yeah, probably Hold Nickar, god of the winter solstice,” Sam noted, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Dean huffed, “And all these Martha Stewart wannabes, buying these fancy wreaths…” 

“Yeah, it’s pretty much like putting a neon sign on your front door saying ‘Come kill us’.”

Dean deadpanned, “Great.”

“Wait, Hold Nickar makes sense, though,” you chimed in, something dawning on you. “Guess what he gives you in return?”

“Lap dances, hopefully,” Dean smirked. 

You gave him a look. “Mild weather.”

Dean looked out of the window. “Like no snow in the middle of December in the middle of Michigan.”

“For instance,” shrugged Sam. 

“Do we know how to kill it yet?” Dean asked. 

“Have you met me? That’s all I’ve been looking for the past hour.”

“While you work on that—” Sam turned to his brother, “we got to figure out where they’re selling those wreaths.”

“You think they’re selling them on purpose?” Dean questioned, sitting up on his bed.

“Feeding the victims to this thing?”

Sam sighed. “Let’s find out.”

“You keep workin’ your pagan-god-killin’ angle, (Y/N),” Dean told you, moving over to you. “Sam and I ’ll be back soon.” He gave you a quick kiss on your forehead, and your cheeks heated at the brief contact.

***

“How ‘re you supposed to kill a god, (Y/N)?” Bobby droned through the phone.

“I don’t know, dude, that’s what I’m asking you,” you sighed. “I mean, I’ve been pouring through this shit online for hours. I’m ready to pull my fucking hair out.”

“Lemme make a few calls, kid, and I’ll see what I can do,” Bobby said. 

“Thanks, Bobby. You’re the best.” You sat back in your chair and clicked your phone off. 

Almost as if on cue, Dean burst through the door with Sam trailing behind him.

“Hey, sweetheart,” the older one drawled. “Got somethin’ for me?”

“I wish. Just sent Bobby lookin’,” you replied. “Got anything for me?”

“Actually, yeah,” Dean said. “That store we went to? Turns out, lady named Madge Carrigan gave ‘em to the store for free. How much do you think a meadowsweet wreath would cost?” 

“A couple hundred dollars, at least,” Sam answered while you clacked away at your computer looking for Madge Carrigan’s home address. 

“Sounds pretty suspicious,” you said absentmindedly. 

“Remember that wreath Dad brought home that one year?” Dean laughed while he took his jacket off.

“You mean, the one he stole from, like, a liquor store?” Sam responded, an unimpressed expression crossing his features. 

“Yeah, it was a bunch of empty beer cans. That thing was great. I bet if I looked around hard enough, I could probably find one just like it.” He sat on the bed closest to you and went to lean over and look at your computer. 

Despite the fact that you were still on the phone, Sam asked Dean, “Alright, dude… What’s going on with you?”

You stopped typing, and both you and Dean sat up to face Sam. 

“I mean, since when are you Bing Crosby all of a sudden?” continued the brunet. “Why do you want Christmas so bad?”

“Why are you so against it?” Dean challenged. “I mean, were your childhood memories that traumatic?”

Sam’s voice became heavy with emotion. “No, that has nothing to do with it. I-I mean, I-I just… I don’t get it. You haven’t talked about Christmas in years.”

“Well, yeah.” Dean’s voice had less of an edge. “This is my last year.”

Sam huffed out a quick breath. “I know. That’s why I can’t.”

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean, I can’t just sit around, drinking eggnog, pretending everything’s okay, when I know next Christmas, you’ll be dead.” The near-casualness Sam spoke about Dean’s almost-five-month-out deadline with made your breath catch in your throat. “I just can’t,” Sam finished, voice almost too quiet for you to hear. 

The three of you went silent. To distract yourself from the heaviness in the room, you went back to typing on your laptop to find Madge Carrigan’s address and any information on her that suggested she really was your bad guy. 

You could feel Dean staring at you, though, and you knew he needed you at that moment. So you shut your laptop and got into bed with him. He laid against your chest, and you kept your arms around him tightly. Soon, you drifted off to a dreamless sleep. 

***

The next day, you and Dean headed to the Carrigan’s home. Sam stayed behind to research and see if you had missed anything in your search the night before. The house you arrived at was decorated with cutesy Christmas decorations and screamed the 1950s “American dream.”

“This is where Mrs. Wreath lives, huh?” Dean remarked, looking around. “Can’t you just feel the evil pagan vibe?” He rapped his knuckles against the door. 

A blonde, middle-aged woman in a sweater opened it. “Yes?” she answered sweetly. 

“Please tell me you’re the Madge Carrigan who makes the meadowsweet wreaths,” Dean said. 

“Why, yes I am,” she smiled widely. 

“Ha! Bingo.” Dean turned to you with a grin. 

“We just moved into the neighborhood,” you lied, gesturing between yourself and Dean, “and we were mingling with the Sylars the other day. They had one of your beautiful wreaths on their fireplace. He and I were immediately in love with it.”

“You were? Well, isn't that meadowsweet just the finest-smelling thing you ever smelled?” Mrs. Carrigan’s smile had not lessened since she opened the front door; it was creeping you out. 

“It is; it sure is,” you replied. “But the problem is that all your wreaths had sold out before we got the chance to buy one.”

“Oh, fudge!” she pouted. 

“You wouldn’t have another one that we could buy from you, would you?” Dean questioned.

“Oh, no, I’m afraid those were the only ones I had for this season.”

“Aww…” you whined, deflating. 

“Tell me something, why did you decide to make them out of meadowsweet?” your partner asked. 

A man who you assumed was Mr. Carrigan came down the staircase behind the woman as she answered, “Why, the smell, of course! I don’t think I’ve ever smelled anything finer.”

‘She… already said that,’ you thought, but you kept the smile plastered on your face.

“What's going on, honey?” Mr. Carrigan asked his wife. You noticed his outfit of choice was a cardigan and slacks, and he held an old-fashioned pipe. The two reminded you very much of “Leave it to Beaver.”

“Well, just this nice couple asking about my wreaths, dear.”

“Oh, the wreaths are fine,” Mr. Carrigan affirmed. “Fine wreaths. Oh, care for some peanut brittle?” He held out a tin, and Dean took a piece. 

You gave him a harsh glare, preventing him from raising the brittle to his lips. Politely, you bid the couple goodbye and kept Dean from snacking while he started to drive.

As soon as you got out of the line of the Carrigans’ sights, you took the peanut brittle and chucked it out of the window. 

“What was that for? I’m hungry,” Dean whined. 

“Evil pagans, Dean,” you reminded him. “I don’t want you to get magical food poisoning.” You kissed his cheek and sat back in your chair.

He considered for a moment but finally seemed to admit defeat when he hung his head, a small smile and a blush rising to his cheeks. 

***

That night, you and the Winchesters headed back to the Carrigan’s home. “ ‘O Come All Ye Faithful” played from somewhere down the street, and the soft glow of Christmas lights on strings shining through the dark night almost made you feel like a child again; falling asleep in the back of your family’s station wagon while your mother hummed along to the Christmas tunes on the radio. 

An evergreen stake was hidden in your jacket’s inside pocket; Bobby was becoming your favorite person with his seemingly endless amounts of contacts and information. Sam had informed you and his brother that the last place the Carrigans had lived, three people disappeared, too. 

You followed Dean into the living room of the dark home after he picked the lock. He turned around and whispered, “See? Plastic.” He gestured to the couch and other furniture  still covered in sheets of it.

You headed down the hallway where ornaments and snow globes rested on shelves on the wall. You made your way into the kitchen where Sam and Dean were looking at a lock on the basement door. Dean picked it, and you followed him down the stairs. You did your best to avoid making the stairs creak as you did so. 

You shined your flashlight around and realized the basement was less of a storage room and more of Hannibal Lector’s playroom; a bowl of blood and bone sat at the end of a bloodstained wooden table just big enough to fit a human on that had shackles outfitted to each of its corners. You backed up along the wall, only to bump into something that moved. You yelped in surprise and wheeled around to see a leather bag wriggling around, as if a person was inside it. 

Suddenly, you felt a hand on the back of your shirt, lifting you up, and you screamed. 

“(Y/N)!” Dean yelled. 

You wriggled and kicked with all your might, but Mr. Carrigan was too strong. He turned you around and held you to the wall by your throat, and you clawed at his hand to get away from him. However, slowly losing air, you were unsure whether the best strategy was to fight or to conserve your oxygen. 

“Gosh, I wish you kids hadn’t come down here,” Madge smiled sweetly.

***

Slowly, your mind began to awaken. Your limbs and head felt heavy, and the light seeping in through your closed eyes felt painful. You blinked a few times, soon able to fully open your eyes and look around. 

You jerked a little in your seat but soon realized your hands were bound to the chair. You turned your head to the left to see Dean tied up shoulders slumped, and on the right, Sam. You supposed the two boys were tied back to back and your chair was tied sort of in between the two. However, you couldn’t see anything going on behind you. 

“Dean? You okay?” you asked frantically when you heard him groan. 

“Yeah, I think so,” he grumbled. 

“How ‘bout you, Sam?” 

Sam just hummed in response. “So, I guess we’re dealing with Mr. and Mrs. God. Nice to know.”

“Yeah,” Dean murmured, breathing deeply. 

You heard approaching footsteps coming from behind you. 

“Ooh, and here we thought you two lazybones were gonna sleep straight through all the fun stuff,” you heard Madge giggle. 

“Miss all this? Nah, we’re partiers,” Dean snarked. 

You heard Mr. Carrigan take a puff from his pipe. “Isn’t he a kick in the pants, honey? You’re hunters, is what you are.”

“And you’re pagan gods. So, why don't we just call it even, and go our separate ways?” the older brother suggested. 

“What, so you can bring more hunters and kill us?” Madge laughed, voice still sugary sweet. “I don’t think so.”

“Maybe you should have thought about that before you went snacking on humans, now, huh?” Sam shot back.

“Oh now, don’t get all wet,” Mr. Carrigan scolded gently. 

“Oh, why, we used to take over a hundred tributes a year and that’s a fact.” You turned to the left to see Madge put a napkin on Dean’s lap. “Now what do we take?” She did the same to you. “What, two? Three?” And then did the same to Sam.

“Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew here make six.” Mr. Carrigan took another drag from his pipe. Funnily enough, you hadn’t seen him light the thing once yet. 

“Now, that’s not so bad, is it?” Madge crooned. 

“Well, you say it like that,” Dean sassed, “I guess you guys are the Cunninghams.”

“You, mister, better show us a little respect,” Madge instructed, and you could see her leaning down to try and intimidate Dean.

“Or what?” you remarked, trying to crane your neck around to look at the Carrigans. “You gonna eat us?”

“Not so fast,” Mr. Carrigan responded. “There’s rituals to be followed first.”

You turned to Madge, who looked excited. “Oh, we’re just sticklers for ritual.”

“And you know what kicks off the whole shebang?” Mr. Carrigan taunted, walking around in front of you.

“Let me guess.” The glare you delivered was challenging. “Meadowsweet.”

Mr. Carrigan nodded. 

“Oh shucks,” you mockingly pouted, “you’re all out of wreaths. I guess we’ll just have to cancel the sacrifice, huh?”

“Oh, don’t be such a gloomy Gus.” You could hear Madge rustling around as she spoke. Suddenly, a wreath was put around your neck. You attempted to bite Mrs. Carrigan’s fingers to no avail, and she just tapped your nose in response. “There. Oh, don’t they just look darling?

Mr. Carrigan smacked his lips. “Good enough to eat. Alrighty-roo. Step number two.” You heard the sound of a knife being released from its sheath. 

Sam started mumbling, “No, no—” to which you and Dean cried his name. 

“D-Don’t!” Sam wailed. 

“Leave him alone, you son of a bitch!” Dean shouted. 

You struggled even harder against your binds.

“Hear how they talk to us?” Mr. Carrigan tsked. “To gods? Listen, pal, back in the day, we were worshiped by millions.”

Mr. Carrigan walked around to you holding the bowl, and you started to panic just a little. 

“Times have changed!” Dean growled. 

“Tell me about it. All of a sudden, this Jesus character is the hot new thing in town. All of a sudden, our– our altars are being burned down, and we’re being hunted down like common monsters.” Mr. Carrigan walked back behind what you assumed was the kitchen counter.

“But did we say a peep? Oh ho ho, no, no, no, we did not. Two millennia,” Madge continued for her husband. “We kept a low profile; we got jobs, a mortgage. Wh- What was that word, dear?”

“We assimilated.”

“Yeah, we assimilated. Why, we play bridge on Tuesday and Fridays.” The woman walked over to you holding the bowl with Sam’s blood in it. “We’re just like everybody else.”

“You’re not blending in as smooth as you think, lady,” Dean snarked. Madge ignored your partner’s comment. “This might pinch a bit, dear.” With that, she sliced into your arm deeply. 

“F-Fuck!” you screamed. 

“(Y/N)!” Dean yelled. “Get your hands off her!”

“Oh, my goodness me! Somebody owes a nickel to the swear jar. Oh, do you know what I say when I feel like swearing?” Madge waved the knife around in your face as you panted in pain. “ ‘Fudge’.”

“I’ll try to remember that,” you sassed. 

“Oh, god, you son of a bitch!” Dean howled, and you assumed Madge had cut him up, too. 

“Get away from him!” you yelled, creating brush burns on your arms from how hard you were pulling on your binds.

“You kids have no idea how lucky you are,” Mr. Carrigan said. “There was a time when kids came from miles around, just to be sitting where you are.” He came to a stop in front of you holding a pair of pliers.

“What do you think you’re doing with those?” you asked, chest heaving in panic. 

All he did was smile in response. 

“You fudging touch her again, and I’ll fudging kill you!” Dean growled. 

“Very good!” Madge praised just before you heard your love groan in pain again. 

You had no time to focus on Dean because Mr. Carrigan grabbed your hand. 

“No, no, don’t!” Sam begged from beside you. 

“Get off me!” you cried, and your cry soon turned into a scream as the god painfully pulled your index fingernail off. 

“Oh, we got a winner!” Mr. Carrigan exclaimed happily. He disappeared from your line of sight again, and you dropped your head back on your chair. Your finger and arm were throbbing, and you couldn’t help but cry. 

“I swear to god, (Y/N), I’ll fucking kill them,” you heard Dean mutter through the white hot pain roaring in your ears.

“What else, dear?” Madge cooed. 

“Well, let’s see. Uh, fingernails, blood. Oh! Sweet Peter on a popsicle stick,” the man laughed. “I forgot the tooth.”

“Oh, dear!”

“Merry Christmas, guys,” Dean said, out of breath. 

You turned your head to see Madge and Mr. Carrigan advancing on Dean. The man held the pliers up and grabbed Dean’s chin harshly. “Open wide… and say, ‘Aah’.”

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. 

“Somebody gonna get that?” Dean asked around the tool in his mouth. “You should get that.”

“Come on,” Mr. Carrigan finally said. 

You knew you had to act fast, and you started working the knife out of your sleeve as soon as the doors shut behind the Carrigans. Silently, all three of you got out of your binds. You hid with Dean behind one of the kitchen doors. 

“Now, where were we?” you heard Madge say. 

You pulled a drawer out to hold the door closed and trapped the Carrigans in the kitchen. Almost immediately, the couple was attempting to open them. 

You made your way over to Sam at the other end of the kitchen and leaned on the door beside him.

“What do we do now? The evergreen stakes are in the basement!” Dean whispered. 

“Well, we need more evergreen, Dean!” Sam replied. 

You looked over at the tree in the corner of the living room. “Guys. Bingo.”

Dean smirked excitedly. “Sam, help me get this.” He had his brother assist him in moving the large cabinet next to the door in front of it.

While the boys worked, you pushed the Christmas tree over and broke three large branches off it. You tossed one to both boys who caught them with ease. 

Gripping your stake tightly, you waited with bated breath as the house went silent. Suddenly, Mr. Carrigan tackled Dean to the ground. Madge grabbed your shoulder before you could help Dean and wheeled you around. “You little thing,” she chastised. “I loved that tree.”

You raised your stake, but she hit you hard and threw you back onto the plastic-covered couch. The woman stalked toward you, and you whacked her to the ground with the branches of your stake. You scrambled to your feet before she could recover and stabbed her through the chest with your stake.

“Madge!” Mr. Carrigan screamed just before Sam stabbed him with his own makeshift stake.

You moved to stand beside the two boys, chest heaving from the effort. “Merry Christmas, ya filthy animals,” you breathed out at the dead bodies at your feet. The two boys huffed out labored laughs before Dean slung his arm around your shoulder and began leading you out of the house. 

***

“How’d you keep Dean from finding this stuff?” Sam asked.

You pulled a few plastic bags out from under the bed you shared with the older Winchester. “He doesn’t look under here unless it’s for his shoes. I’ve been making sure they’re next to mine by the door every night,” you explained with a smile. You handed one of the bags to Sam. “It’s not much, but I found a crappy dollar store down the road. I was hoping you’d change your mind.”

Sam looked down sheepishly. “You do get why I was… hesitant, though, right?”

You stood up and nodded. “Absolutely, I do.”

He gave you a lopsided smile. 

“C’mon,” you said. “Oh! I almost forgot!”

“What?”

You stooped to pull out the little plastic Christmas tree from under Sam’s bed and held it up with a wide grin.

***

Dean returned almost an hour later holding a six pack. “What’s all this?” he asked, almost in a sort of daze as he looked around the decorated room.

You continued to busy yourself with making eggnog while the brothers talked.

“What do you think it is? It’s– it’s Christmas,” Sam replied.

You walked over to Sam with a cup of your concoction.

“What made you change your mind?” Dean asked him.

“Oh, thanks,” Sam told you without answering his brother.

“Lemme know if it needs more of a kick,” you said. 

Sam took a swig and coughed. “Nope, all good.”

“Yeah?” you grinned.

Sam nodded and smiled. 

Dean came up behind you and slipped an arm around your waist, his hand landing just above your ass. He smirked down at you and took the other cup of eggnog from your left hand. He gulped almost half of it down, unfazed by the strong whiskey taste. 

“Well, uh, have a seat. Let’s do… Christmas stuff, or whatever,” Sam awkwardly said. 

You sat beside Dean on the couch next to the small Christmas tree decorated with car air fresheners. Sam pulled up a chair across from you. 

“All right, first things first,” Dean nodded, and you handed him the two packages he’d wrapped shoddily in brown paper bags. “Merry Christmas, Sam.” Dean handed him one of the two bags.

Sam smiled widely. “Where’d you get these?”

“Someplace special,” Dean smirked. At Sam’s deadpan expression, Dean continued, “The gas mart down the street. Open them up.”

“Well, great minds think alike, Dean.” Sam brought out two packages wrapped in newspaper. He gave the first to Dean. 

“Really?” Dean asked, eyes shining with surprise. 

You left Dean’s arms momentarily to reach under the couch and brought out two packages daintily wrapped in brown paper. You handed one to each of the boys, and they handed their gifts to you. “You didn’t have to get me anything, guys,” you said. 

“Yeah, we did. Shuddup,” Dean remarked, smirking. 

You relaxed back against him while Sam opened his gift from Dean. “Skin mags!” he laughed. “And shaving cream.”

“You like?” Dean questioned.

Sam smiled and nodded. He then opened the gift from you. “Oh, no way!” He held up the Staind cassette tapes you’d gotten for him to add to Dean’s collection for long drives; especially for when Dean was gone. 

You grinned widely as he admired the tapes. “Okay, Dee, your turn,” you told him. 

He chuckled and unwrapped Sam’s gift to him. “Look at this! Fuel for me and fuel for my baby.” He held up a candy bar and a bottle of oil, and you laughed. “These are awesome,” the older brother said. “Thanks, Sammy.” 

“Okay, now mine,” you beamed. 

“Oh, holy shit,” Dean breathed out while he opened the Bowie knife you’d gotten engraved for him. On the hilt of the blade were his initials, and the handle was engraved to look just like the side of his prized Taurus pistol. “Jesus, (Y/N), this is—” he couldn’t seem to find the words, instead opting to place a long kiss on the side of your forehead. 

At last, you opened yours. Sam gave you the second book in a series you’d been reading on Greek myths, for which you were eternally grateful, but Dean’s gift truly floored you.

“Where’d you get this?” you asked, fingering the small beaded bracelet Dean had given you. 

“Off some kid in the lobby,” he smirked.

Tears filled your eyes at how close of attention he paid to you and your stories. 

“There’s something else in there, too.” 

You looked up to Dean with complete admiration before rummaging around in the bag once more. You pulled out a ripped piece of paper from the notepad at a motel you’d recently stayed at with the words, “Redeem on Dean’s expiration date.” You looked up to him in confusion.

“It’s, uh, for this,” Dean revealed, thumbing the amulet around his neck. “I want you to have it.” 

You threw your arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. He returned your fierce embrace, pulling you impossibly closer across his lap. 

“Merry Christmas, Deano,” you whispered into his shoulder.

Dean pulled away from you and kissed your forehead. He then held his eggnog up to cheers you and Sam. “Merry Christmas, guys.”

The three of you sat in silence sipping your drinks before Sam broke the quiet. 

He looked quite sad as he began, “Hey, Dean, y—” but Sam cut himself off, sighing and shaking his head. “Do you feel like watching the game?” he finally asked.

Dean grinned in relief. “Absolutely.”

You clicked on the television before settling into Dean’s side. He lazily thumbed your hip and sighed in content. Sam turned his chair to face the television.

***

Later that night, long after Dean and Sam had gone to bed, you were still wide awake. Snow had begun softly falling outside the motel room window, and the moonlight reflected off the white blanket over the Impala beautifully. Wrapped in a blanket, you made your way over to your duffel bag. You hadn’t taken the bracelet that Dean gave you off, and you were still holding the piece of paper to “redeem” when Dean was gone. 

You took your wallet out and slipped the piece of paper into the see-through pocket where your ID sat, and there it would stay until this was all over. 

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[steddiealltheway]

Thinking about Robin bursting into Steve’s house - he gave her a spare key long ago - and yelling, “I was just Nancy’s gay awakening!”

Steve is laying on the ground in the living room and sits up. “What?”

Robin launches into the story, “Well, I was just at Nancy’s as you know, and she insisted that she wanted to basically play dress up with me. So, she handed me some clothes and she jokingly changed into mine which were huge on her and so incredibly adorable. I mean-”

“Robin,” Steve says trying to cut off her inevitable Nancy ramble.

“Right. So, there I am in Nancy’s bra and pulling her really itchy shirt over my head, and when I finally get my head out, Nancy is staring at me in her panicked way. And I thought well, maybe I ripped one of her favorite shirts because it was tight and I may have heard a rip-”

Steve lightly taps her arm, and Robin nods. “But then, she just says, ‘Robin, when did you know that you were… you know… gay.’ And I didn’t think much of it, but I told her, and then she said asked if it can happen later in life. And the dots just connected, and I told her yes it can.” Robin finishes her rant in a frenzied state still as out of breath as when she got there.

“And then what happened?” Steve asks.

“I stole Mike’s bike and came here,” Robin says staring off with wide eyes.

Steve stares at her and blinks slowly. “So she’s had this gay awakening, and you ran away and left her to deal with it alone?”

Robin looks at Steve even more panicked. “Holy shit! Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit!” She stands up and runs to the door. “I’ll be back later!”

The front door slams shut and Steve sighs.

“I was wondering when Nancy would realize,” a voice over Steve’s shoulder says.

Steve jumps. “Shit, Eddie. I forgot you were here.”

Eddie puts a hand over his heart. “I’m hurt, Steve. Hurt. I’m always here.”

Steve looks off and questions his past relationship with Nancy. Yes, he got over her in a romantic way long ago especially when Robin told him she had feelings for Nance. And it’s been a weight off his shoulders but he can’t help but wonder…

“Hey, what’s going on?” Eddie asks already on the ground next to Steve.

Steve shakes his head, but he knows Eddie is stubborn so he gives in. “Do you think Nancy was gay when she dated me, and that’s why things never really worked out? I mean, I just feel bad for doing everything with her if she wasn’t happy.”

Eddie takes a moment and then shakes his head. “Steve, a person doesn’t just suddenly become gay, but I think what you’re missing is that I don’t think Nancy is a lesbian. I’m pretty sure she’s bisexual. Which means she likes both.”

Steve thinks for a second and realizes it makes sense. “So, she had more of a bisexual awakening than just a gay awakening.”

Eddie shrugs. “Yeah, you could put it that way. What I had was definitely a gay awakening though. It was in the gym and this one guy stripped off his shirt and it all suddenly hit that yes, I was definitely gay.”

Steve stares off and suddenly blurts out, “Do you think I could have a bisexual awakening?”

Eddie’s jaw drops before he stutters out, “Ye-yeah. I mean… I-I guess you could. But it’s not something you can just force yourself to do.”

“Take off your shirt,” Steve says seriously because he’s curious.

“Dude, I’m not going to force a gay or bisexual awakening on you.”

Steve looks Eddie up and down for a second. He’s always known he’s attractive, just like he knew Billy was attractive and even Tommy in his own way. But it was only fair to notice who would be potential rivals when Steve started dating. But… he knows Eddie is gay, so why would he note his attractiveness?

Eddie sighs and stands up to take off his shirt. “Okay, now you can go back to being your straight self,” Eddie says already pulling his shirt back on.

Steve takes a moment to process, but then he grabs Eddie’s hand and drags him up the stairs. “Steve, there is now way you’re about to do what I think you’re going to do.”

“I sure am!” Steve yells determined.

A few minutes and a lot of complaining later, Eddie has Steve’s jeans on and is pulling his yellow sweater over his head. Eddie even does a little spin.

Steve looks him over and realizes that he feels the same way towards Eddie as he always has. He definitely finds him attractive, and even has the thought in the back of his head that he wouldn’t mind kissing him. Plus, Eddie in his clothes is definitely adorable wait-

Since when has he always wanted to kiss Eddie?

“Oh shit. You cannot tell me that this actually worked,” Eddie says and then laughs. “Okay, very funny, Steve. You can cut it out now.” Steve feels Eddie grab his shoulders, “Steve?”

Steve turns to look at him and says, “Eddie, I really want to kiss you.”

Eddie steps back and says, “Steve, this really isn’t funny. Just knock it off.”

“I’m serious,” Steve says with as much conviction as he has. “And I don’t mean just right now, but I mean that it’s always been there in the back of my head, and I’ve been ignoring it. But, shit, I want to kiss you.”

“Why don’t you buy me dinner first?” Eddie jokes and then stops. “You’re serious?”

“One hundred percent.”

Eddie walks closer to Steve mumbling under his breath, “I cannot believe this worked. Must be a bisexual thing.”

Steve laughs and says, “Maybe it is.”

Eddie finally gets up in front of him and cups his jaw. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

“Not if I beat you to i-”

Eddie cuts him off with a soft kiss before pulling away and looking at Steve with a bit of fear in his eyes.

“Holy shit, I’m bisexual,” Steve says with a laugh before kissing Eddie again. He pulls back and says, “Wait, this isn’t just you helping me to realize, right? Like, I want to go on a date with you. Multiple if you wanted that…”

“Oh thank fuck,” Eddie says and kisses Steve again.

Steve will have to thank Nancy and Robin later.

[bad268]

Out-of-Pocket (Pepe Marti X Reader)

Fandom: RPF/Formula 2/3

Requested: Yeah on Wattpad (ily zep also happy race week!)

Warnings: none.

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 869

Summary: Out-of-pocket grid walks and podcasts

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

The first race of the season was one for the books. The energy was high, the excitement was through the roof, and all of the drivers were ready to get back to racing. As someone with a moto racing podcast, you were having a blast in the paddock. The plan was you were going to do a Martin Brundle-style grid walk, asking random questions to whatever drivers you could find.

“Jak!” You shouted, running up to your American friend who was walking with Ollie and Kimi. “Can I ask you guys questions for the pod?”

“Don’t say tyre deg,” Jak joked as the other two nodded.

“That's a tequila shot, Jak,” You laughed. “Anyway, I don’t have any on me so, Jak, hypothetically speaking, what would you do if you found a dead body in your hotel room?”

“That’s so random, but I would call my team, I guess?” Jak responded, confused about where the question came from.

“Good to hear you trust your team, sounds like you guys will have a good year,” You stated. “Does this mean you are getting along well with your new team?”

“Yeah, I love the team, and I think we’re gonna do well this year,” Jak beamed. 

“Thank you, Jak. Now, Ollie,” You moved the microphone over to Ollie, “You hit me as the type of guy who needs beauty sleep.”

“Where is this going?” He laughed.

“Why is it called ‘beauty sleep’ if you wake up looking like a hot mess? I’ve seen the LAP videos, and you don’t look very beautiful when you wake up,” You teased him.

“Oh you’re one to talk,” He gasped in disbelief, “As if anyone in your opinion looks good waking up unless they’re Pepe!”

“Hey, no need to call me out in my own podcast here!” You jokingly scolded. “I ask the questions. Now, why is it called ‘beauty sleep’ if you wake up looking like a hot mess? I need to know.”

“Maybe it’s not about physical beauty and more about mental beauty,” Ollie quipped. “Ever think of that?”

“No, I did not Aristotle,” You replied sarcastically. “Thank you for bestowing your great mind upon us, oh great one.”

“With pleasure,” Ollie jokingly bowed as he left to follow Jak.

“Kimi! The new man on the block! Tell me, how many pennies do you think would fit in your car?”

“At least five,” Kimi answered immediately and seriously.

“Fair point, thank you,” You replied just as seriously as you moved on to your next target, running after him. “Dennis, do fish drown?”

“NO!” He shouted, started by your sudden appearance. “No, I looked this up and drowning is inhaling water. Fish breathe water, so unless they stop moving and water blocks their gills, they can't drown, but they can suffocate on water.”

“Damn, thanks Bill Nye the science guy,” You said sarcastically as you moved on, beelining for one of your favorite F3 drivers to ask questions to. “Sebastian Montoya, I have a question for you.”

“I love these,” he said to himself before leaning into the microphone and shouting, “Hi Pod!”

“Don’t! I’m the star here,” You joked. “Anyway, if you punch yourself in the face and it hurts, are you weak or strong?”

“Neither, you’re gullible,” He answered.

“Oh, that's a dollar word, look at you go!” You chuckled as you moved on once again. This time you ran into a world champion. “Fernando! My favorite Spanish driver!” You shouted as you ran over to him but not before whispering into the mike, “Lies, Pepe is my favorite.”

“We all know Pepe is you’re favorite, no need to flatter me,” He laughed.

“Well, at least we’re all on the same page,” You dismissed. “In your opinion, what is the worst mode of transportation?”

“Roller skates,” He said after a moment. “The ones with the wheels in a line.”

“What do you have against roller blades, Nando?” You chuckled, genuinely curious.

“I just never learned how to ride them,” He laughed.

“Fair enough, thank you!” You said as you heard back to the Campos garage, knowing Pepe was probably finished with his interview by now. You saw him sitting on the couch in the driver’s room that he shares with Isack, scrolling through his phone. “And here we find the friend of the show, Pepe, in his natural habitat; hiding from everyone.”

“You do know I can hear you,” He chuckled, not even looking up from his phone.

“Oh shit, I thought he was deaf,” You whispered into the microphone, but still loud enough for him to hear. You moved into the room and sat beside him, leaning into his side. “I have a real question for you.”

“Something tells me it’s not a real question, but go on.”

“How does it feel to be in a relationship with the most out-of-pocket moto racing podcaster on the planet?”

“Wouldn’t change it for the world,” He replied as he placed a small kiss on the top of your head. “You should talk to Clement to get on Screaming Meals. I bet that would be the most chaotic episode ever.”

“Don’t give me any more ideas,” You groaned. “Also, I’m trying. James said no.”

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[apomaro-mellow]

based on this

It was supposed to be a joke. A laugh. A funny story to tell later. But five questions in and things were different.

It was a normal barbecue. Everyone was there at Hopper’s cabin and generally having a great time. Good food and good company tended to guarantee that. But then someone had pulled out a home version of the Newly Wed Game. It was clearly well-used and probably missing some parts, but still playable. The most important parts were the questions anyway.

Mike, definitely not compensating for anything, adamantly exclaimed that he and El could win in a heartbeat. And because he couldn’t help his annoying little brother tendencies, challenged Nancy and Jonathan. And because Nancy couldn’t stomp down the big sister urge to put her brother in his place, she accepted. So they already had two couples but Mike got it in his head that they needed a third. He vetoed Hopper and Joyce, saying that they didn’t count as newly weds.

Lucas and Max were still figuring out what they wanted and hadn’t officially come back as a couple even though Max wasn’t actively avoiding him anymore. Dustin proclaimed he’d kick their asses if Suzie was there, but alas.

“We’ll be your thirds”, Eddie said, putting an arm around Steve’s shoulders.

“You?”, Mike’s face and voice was so incredulous and while Steve was confused as well, Mike’s offense offended him on principle.

“You’ve got two couples who are absolutely made for each other. You need an obvious dud couple”, Eddie reasoned, then winked at Steve and oh.

This was another one of those attempts at getting him back with Nancy. Because he and Eddie wouldn’t get any of the questions right, but he’d know things about Nancy and she’d know things about him. A sound plan.

If only Steve wanted Nancy back.

Steve meant to tell Eddie as such but it was hard to fight against that blind optimism. 

And so the three couples sat down, with Argyle being their show host and asking the questions. The first few were easy. Steve got asked “What’s their favorite type of music?” Eddie got asked “Favorite sport?” Steve got asked “Favorite kind of weather?” Eddie got asked “Do they prefer the beach or the pool?” Steve got asked “Night in or night out?”

All easy. He knew those almost immediately. And it seemed Eddie did too by the quick way he answered. But while they were 5 for 5, Nancy and Jonathan had only gotten three and Mike and El had only gotten two. And Steve had to admit, he was at a loss for some of the answers for Nancy.

“You guys are on a roll my dudes”, Argyle said. “Next one: Crust on or off the sandwich?”

“Crusts off”, Mike answered.

El showed her response and Mike was correct.

“Crusts on”, Nancy answered.

Jonathan bit his lip. “Actually, I prefer them off.”

“Heh, yeah he does”, Argyle said. “He said crusts were crusty and it was like, profound man. Eddie?”

“Trick question, he’ll eat anything I make for him. Wontcha, big boy?”

Steve grinned. “I never turn down free food. Even when it’s one of your Scooby Doo specials.”

“His what?”, Mike asked.

“Moving on”, Argyle continued. “Your spouse can take one thing on a deserted island. What is it?”

El guessed a book, which turned out to be wrong. Jonathan replied with a gun, which turned out to be wrong. Argyle’s eyes turned to the third couple.

Steve bit his lip before answering. “My first instinct was to say his guitar, but I gotta go with a copy of Lord of the Rings.”

Argyle looked to Eddie. “Is this correct?”

“This man knows me like the back of his hand”, Eddie said, clapping Steve’s back. At some point he had forgotten his own plan and was just having fun.

“Okay, this is bullshit”, Mike finally broke. “How are you guys getting all of these right.”

Steve didn’t have an answer. And neither did Eddie. They shared a look without words and once again they came up with the same answer but neither of them wanted to admit it.

“Just admit you lost, Mike”, Nancy said.

“You lost too.”

“Second’s better than third.”

“God you’re so-”

“Hey guys! There’s more hot dogs!”, Lucas called out.

The game ended there, the other two couples going about their business. Whereas Steve and Eddie were left with the question that already had an answer. How did they know all of those things about each other?

Part 2

[shebeafancyflapjack]

Right! Here we go. Ghosts Finale Positivity Post as I rewatch.

- Robin being an excited little kid for Christmas is the cutest thing, even if it's Halloween.

- Alison's face when she's showing the ghosts Mia before she has to put the mask on. Also the fact one of her first priorities after giving birth was for Mike to call them and reassure her they're OK.

- "Since Alison come, it been my favorite time of year." I love you Robin, I love you, I love you.

- Nana Fanny is surprisingly sweet? I never imagined her being that maternal before, she never spoke of her children.

- "Robin want more." 🥺 HE IS SO BABY.

- "Think of the child, Alison!" Thomas just kills it with that line. 😂

- Julian caring about putting Robin in the Christmas mood. Chess Husbands are the Joey and Chandler of this show for me.

- Mike was fully about to reveal the truth to Betty but his wife said Gaslight Gatekeep Girlboss. It's just so on point for them.

- "She doesn't want to see Fanny on camera." Has someone compiled all these jokes yet?

- Alison's little thumbs up to Julian, they are just chaos buddies.

- Mike being a terrible liar is hilarious.

- Mike warning the ghosts to leave! Like he has no real connection to these guys except through Alison but doesn't want any of them in danger. 🥺

- "Betty's bought the pastor!" "Pasta? That not very Christmassy." Robin I swear to god.

- That close in shot of Julian is the funniest scene in the episode. Also Robin "I think we should go-" chess husbands stick together.

- Kitty remembering Humphrey! She's always seemed to be the one who is most concerned for him. <3

- This. Just this.

- Thomas, normally the most self-obsessed git, being the one to jump into the line of fire to rescue Humphrey is also <3 <3

- This expression on Alison broke my heart and had me going "babygirl oh babygirl!" at my TV.

- But then.... 😁🥰😁

- CHESS HUSBANDS SHOULDER TOUCH

- As chaotic as the scene is, Kitty wanting to sing Mia a lullaby is cute and shows she's trying to move past her jealousy...I think.

- Fanny calling Alison her daughter. I'm not OK.

- This had me howling. 😂

- Mike saying "thanks guys." There's as many Mike / ghosts moments as Alison ones here.

- Julian being so happy Robin feels Christmassy!

- This could be an oil painting. My girl. 😭

- Best use of a song and lyrics timed with what's happening.

- THE PORTRAITS! Such a tiny detail but tells you Alison had her input into how the hotel was set up. She made it for her and Mike but she left it for THEM!

- The last we hear from Alison is her laughter. All these years. All these years and they are loving and LAUGHING together.

- Plague Ghosts always had to be the ones to bow us out. Again, while she wasn't super close to them, I like to think Alison suggested the pit as a good place for the spa, for them. 🥰

.....Okay that was a little better on second viewing ngl.

(For anyone wondering why I don't mention any of the PatCap moments, sorry I'm just not a big fan of baby scenes and babytalk etc.)

[janitorhutcherson]

hi! can you do a fluff piece with Mike where he expresses his love to the reader through the different love languages? (like words of affirmation, gift giving, physical touch, acts of kindness, and quality time?) I feel like he would be especially great at acts of kindness with cooking :) thanks!

hii omg this is such a cute idea. this is gonna be quickish i’m sorry, i’ll totally do a longer one later. if y’all like it i’ll maybe make a series?!? but for now just a silly little blurb.

i feel like mike would be very loving and showing his love to you would be extremely important. like, extremely important. so he’d def be the kind of guy to take all of these seriously, even if they weren’t… easy… for him since expressing emotions doesn’t come as natural.

words of affirmation: words of affirmation is one of my favorite love languages. this is one that doesn’t come easy for mike — and not because he doesn’t love you, but just because he can’t really express himself well. if you’re like me, being reassured, told you’re doing great, etc, is important to you. mike would do his very best to remind you every day how important you are to him, leaving the occasional note in the morning before you head to work. it may say something like, “Reminder I am so proud of you for everything you do. I love you, baby!” he’s also ramble to you at night sometimes, just telling you how much he loves you. if you were ever down, he’d make sure to sit you down and point out all of the things he loves about you, physically and mentally.

gift giving: okay i feel like this is a big one. money doesn’t come very easily for mike. after he got “fired” (that’s what he pretends happened!😜), he had to find another job that still had shitty pay. his resume didn’t make him a great candidate for anything high quality. with that being said, every month he attempts to scrape up enough money to make you a little gift basket. it varies from month to month, depending on how much he was able to save. sometimes they’d be big baskets he’d have abby help him pick stuff out for. there may be a fuzzy blanket, some candies, face masks, maybe a candle. sometimes they’d be smaller, just a little note and some candy, maybe a stuffed animal from the dollar store. regardless of how big or small, you always appreciated it when you’d walk into your shared home and see it sitting on the table.

physical touch: oh my god i think this one is a huge one for mike. given his past, he is so touch starved. every second he gets, his hands are on you. of course, at night he loves to curl up with you in bed. he’ll have his arms tightly wrapped around you, playing with your hair or maybe rubbing your back. even when he dips down on the bed to tie his shoes in the morning, he keeps his hand on your sleeping shoulder until he absolutely has to move it. he’s the same way out in public. at the supermarket, he’ll hold your hand, he’ll wrap his arm around your waist when you’re standing in line for something. when you’re out to eat, his hand will be on your knee underneath the table. when you’re cooking at home, he will always come and wrap himself up behind you, moving with you to the point that it’s slightly obnoxious, but you don’t mind. as long as he’s with you.

acts of kindness: i so agree that this would be a big one for him that he’d be good at. before you, mike was a one trick pony when it came to cooking, and for that, he could barely do it. he could make something that was edible enough to be spaghetti. once you two started dating, he learned for you. he wanted to be able to make your favorite dishes and desserts. he surprises you all the time when he’s off of work or if he gets off before you, making your favorite dish and having it served up on the table with candles when you walk in the door after work. he’s also big on doing things like running you baths, putting the bubbles in and the epsom salts in. sometimes he’d get into it with you, holding you. i also think he’d like to take showers with you. if you struggle with mental health at all, i think he’d be the type of partner to help you wash your hair. of course he’d do chores for you sometimes, knocking out necessary errands. overall he’s a very loving partner who will do anything to make you smile.

quality time: quality time is something that isn’t easy to get. as much as you love abby, alone time is especially hard to come by. since mike is working day shifts now, you two will do your best to have a late night together at least once a week. you’re both usually pretty exhausted, taking care of abby, working, running errands. but once a week, usually on a friday night, you both stay up until 3am/4am, just talking, snacking, maybe watching a movie. otherwise, for quality time, he makes sure to sneak some time in with you here in there. he’d make sure to run simple errands with you, maybe even to sit with you at the nail salon. i also think he’d love to help you cook, go shopping. any chance he’d get to spend time with you, he’d take it.

[vvenus-child]

❀ an: hi! this is my first fic published on tumblr! fluffly all the way. My AO3 where you can leave kudos. I write from multi fandoms such as ACOTAR, Dramione and Original works ❀ Tags: Carmen Berzatto; Carmen Berzatto x Female Reader

She had ladybugs earrings. It wasn't the first thing Carmen noticed about her, no. But it was something he came to associate with her.

At a random Thursday, Sugar and Syd had ripped him a new one about not updating the restaurant's Instagram from all things. So when he had a moment of quiet where he couldn't sleep because his head was so full, he thought it would be a nice idea to use social media for work. He opened the app, unfamiliar with all the options and the immense number of notifications. The latest one was a tagged picture from a dish they had served for some customer. She had tagged the account with a simple caption "best meal I had in this city. My compliments to the chef - however they are!" with a string of emojis he sure did not even fathom to understand.

So Carmen did what he thought was the greatest management of social media ever: he commented "tks :)" under it.

A few hours later a still insomniac Carmen heard a ping from his cellphone. A direct message from Instagram made him frown and scowl a bit. It said "hi!!!! I love your place! do you guys work with delivery or take out?". Minutes passed and he did not answer. He was tired and confused to why someone would be asking this at 03am via a social media profile.

Another ping rang.

"Sorry, it's just I work late nights and your place is my fav in the city. I'm new here, don't know many places yet. Thank you xx"

He fumbled a bit in his bed before answering. A touch of nostalgia for Mike's old way of dealing with The Beef tried to take a hold of his heart. He made sure to snuff it out before typing it quickly.

"No we don't work like that anymore"

And he swore in a low voice.

"Look for Richie tmw say Carmen told u so"

The next day Carmen wanted nothing more than to hide in the fridge and die freezing. The night was so exhausting, someone had burned their food, plates were dropped, Syd had a bad case of allergies, Tina was in a fucking bad mood. The texts were the last thing on his mind when Richie came screaming from the front.

"Yo, cous, some chick looking for you. Said you were the social media manager. Didn't know we were using instagram to hook up now", he laughed and slapped Carm in the back.

"Fuck off, Richie"

Carm walked to see a round face looking back at him. She had dark, long curls around her face. Although her skin was darker than his, he still could manage to see the dark circles under her eyes. She had an apologetic smile and a few Tupperware containers that were not that hidden on her tote bag.

"Sorry! Hey! We spoke on Instagram last night? You said I could look for you? Sorry I'm late, had to extend my shift a bit and some more" she babbled for a few seconds, hands flying off while she talked. He could see the dark pink stain on her cheeks. "It's okay if you guys are closed! I didn't even look at the time when I got out of home,I’m so sorry."

Carm wanted to laugh at how much this girl apologized - he didn't of course, because then he would be the one blushing. She managed to look even more embarrassed than he was in social situations. He decided to take her out of her misery and told her that it was okay. He was the chef and no, it was okay, truly. It was not a problem to help her with a take out. Yes, he understood late nights very well.

Carmen didn't actually know what made him make this one exception to this customer. They still didn't do take outs, but something like kinship rouse in him when she said that it was her favorite place and she worked crazy hours. Maybe he felt he could build a place with as much heart and tradition as Mike, on his own way. So everyday she would come by, sometimes a bit after they had closed, sometimes on the rush hours - then she would wait on one of the tables or eat there. Richie started to yell at the back "Cous, your girl is here" one day, much to Carm dismay.

"She is not my girl, fucker"

"Then why does she ask for you everyday, huh?" he would say with his comically raised eyebrows, "can I ask for her number then?"

For some reason Carmen wanted to punch him in the throat. It did need a lot of reason most days.

"No, you can't. She is a customer and you don't ask customers for their numbers".

Richie left him with a knowing smile.

They never chatted much about deep subjects, if it was a slow day here, if she was dying of a heartburn because of work related stress there. She was also not an adventurous eater. The same order most days. Carm noticed that day she would wear the same ladybug earrings everyday too. They also shared cigarettes breaks on the regular. I'm a reluctant chainsmoker since 16, she told him once with a shy smile. Only watermelon one's thought, Marlboro's light too.

He had laughed at her for that. Flavored shit, really? What's next? Smoking the stupid pens?

Then they bonded over their disgust over electronic cigarettes that day.

Once he caught her helping out customers choose their meal when the staff was too busy with a problem. One day when she bought a group of friends someone had to call Carm from the kitchen. He was smelling of grease, hair dirty and his apron had stains of food in it. He didn't know it was her, it was lunchtime and one of the cooks had not shown up. His cheeks grew hot when he saw her, lips red and eyes lined with dark colors, a brown coat over the chair. She didn't have her earrings this time. A golden chain with a cross dangled from her neck to her cleavage. He was caught staring by one of her friends, who asked "so you are the chef friend?". Her make up did little to hide her blushing.

The time she did not pick up her dinner, Carm got anxious. He asked Richie for her number, because of course he had it. He debated if he should text.

"u ok?", he did. 

When he didn't receive an answer, he showed up at her door with dinner in his hands. It was only a few blocks away, right? He got her address from the receipt, it wasn't creepy, right?

"You didn't show up, I brought you dinner", he said breathlessly.

It was definitely creepy, Richie laughed when he told him.

After that he would sometimes bring her dinner. She would bake him something, make him taste it - and everyone else too, no, he truly wasn't special, Carm tried to tell himself.

One day she asked him if he wanted to come in. He didn't, at least not a first. No, he had to get back to the restaurant, really. No, it wasn't because of her. Sorry, no- yeah- I- Uh, I-I got to go.

They would text each other. He was terrible at it, as always, but he initiated after feeling bad for not tasting the cake she had made him.

The first time Carm kissed her it had been over a year from the instagram message. They were in the kitchen, scrubbing the floor and she was cleaning some dishes. He had said something under his breath that made her laugh so loud the sound had echoed the whole room. He felt his heart squeeze inside his chest like a vise. Mike's words played over and over in his head "let it rip".

Carmen had not planned to kiss her that night. When she asked him to help close, so Tina could leave early, he accepted. Having her around wasn't a bother. When cleaning a particularly sharp knife she had cut her finger. His first instinct was to help and not curse her for the carelessness. Still, he didn't kiss her at that moment.

When they had finished, almost out the door, he pulled her by the neck pushing her back against the counter.

Her mouth felt like water after a long trip to the desert.

She was using her ladybug earrings. 

She tasted like vanilla and chocolate. 

[paleprincessturtle]

Hi💗

I read (and loved😍) your Harvey fic in which the reader is mike's sister and I was wondering if you could write a lil fluffy piece on the same line of your other fics (with reader in a relationship with Harvey and who is also mike's sister) in which the reader get pregnant and they break the news to Mike and how he would react (I don't know why but I think it would be funny ahaha)

Bun in The Oven

Thank you for the request! I'm terribly sorry it took sooooo long. But here we go and enjoy!

You can read this as a standalone or as part of this fic.

1 hour ago

Rachel was slightly confused when she saw Mike's sister in Harvey's office, knowing Harvey had asked for her. She thought it was about the case they were on together. After exchanging hugs with Mike's sister, Harvey told Rachel to sit down. Harvey stood up from his chair and straightened himself. Rachel noted something odd about him today, and his usually chirpy girlfriend also seemed a little quiet today. He situated himself on the sofa beside his girlfriend. Rachel suddenly became nervous, too. Maybe they aren't together anymore, Rachel thought. Shit, what if Harvey cheated on her? Rachel suddenly snapped out of her reverie when Harvey called out her name. "There's news we would like to share with you." Harvey took a deep breath as he took her girlfriend's hand in his. Rachel noticed the gesture. "We're pregnant; no, I mean, she's pregnant; I'm not," Harvey stammered, then let out a nervous chuckle. Rachel was taken aback, not just by the news but by years of working in the firm; this was the first time Rachel saw Harvey stammer. But she managed to compose herself. "Are you guys happy?" Rachel asked, truly curious. "We are more than happy, Rach. This is a surprise, but one we wouldn't have any other way."

The three of them still crowd Harvey's office. "Mike could never refuse a homey and hearty meatloaf; I don't know, but it always put him in a good mood." Rachel nodded at the younger woman. Honestly, she rarely cooked at home; she knew Mike's favorite takeouts, but home-made dishes? It's out of her league. And after all, she's Mike's sister. "Should I look for an interesting pro bono case?" The two women shifted their attention to the only man in the room. For the very first time since they got into this discussion, Rachel finally got a good look at Harvey. Everyone who knows Harvey Specter knows that he is full of confidence. His middle name is Confidence. But one look at him, and Rachel swore he was a nervous wreck. Despite the visible discomfort, Harvey's idea wasn't entirely bad. If anything, it was great. An interesting pro bono case, hand-delivered by the managing partner, would certainly put Harvey on Mike's good side. "I will give him the case first thing in the morning, before dinner later that day." Both women beside him nodded in unison. "Why are you guys making such a fuss about breaking the news to him? I mean, if you don't mind me asking," Rachel asked. She bit her lip and looked at Rachel. "After Mike knew me and Harvey were together, our dynamics weren't the same anymore. Whenever he visited my bakery, he would ask me if Harvey had made any mistakes yet or things like that. It also happened with his relationship with Harvey. I feel like we are walking on thin ice here." Rachel gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "I'm sorry, I didn't know. Mike never told me," she smiled knowingly at Rachel.

Later that day, after settling everything for their dinner plan, they parted ways. Harvey sat on one of the chairs in his girlfriend's bakery. He watched as she checked and counted everything. She was just about to finish the day. "Come sit with me; you shouldn't be standing up for too long," Harvey called for her, and she laughed. "I'll be 5 seconds, and we'll be out of here," she said as she walked to the back of her bakery. Harvey looked around; he seemed out of place here. Harvey had already thought about hiring an assistant for his girlfriend. Harvey followed in his girlfriend's footsteps earlier and found himself inside a tiny office. His girlfriend stood, facing a computer. "Sunshine," Harvey said as he wrapped his arms around her waist. Harvey put his palm flat on her lower stomach, caressing gently. She smiled, even though she wasn't showing yet, Harvey's favorite thing to do now is to caress her lower stomach. "Anything I can help you with so you can finish up faster? Remember what the doctor said? You shouldn't be too tired," Harvey frowned as she typed away. "Imma just add thiiiiis... and done," she said as she turned off her computer. She turned around and faced Harvey. Harvey grinned at her, and she laughed. "What?" Harvey shook his head, smiling, "Nothing; I'm just really happy. About us, our baby, and our little family."

"So I told him that he could shove his sorry excuse of an offer up his ass," everyone laughed at Mike's story. They were all sitting on the couch in Harvey's place, the fire burning slowly in the fireplace. They have done everything they could—the pro bono case Harvey gave to Mike earlier this morning, the food, everything. Now it was only time that Harvey broke the news. Rachel looked at Harvey, quietly nodding at him. "Mike, Rachel," Harvey started, getting their attention. "We have some news to share." Harvey took his girlfriend's hand, and she gave it a good squeeze, silently encouraging him. "Don't you dare tell me you cheated on her, Harvey, I swear to." Harvey didn't let Mike finish his sentence. "Hell no," Harvey said, shaking his head. "Then what? Are you two eloping in Vegas?" Mike almost yelled, brows knitted. Harvey looked at Mike in disbelief, about to open his mouth, when his girlfriend interrupted. "We're pregnant, Mike. It was definitely a surprise, but we are very excited." As she said that, the room fell awfully quiet. "Oh my God, we're so happy for you!" Rachel started and stood up as the two women hugged. Mike followed but still said nothing. Harvey stretched out his arms, ready to hug Mike, after Rachel hugged him. But it wasn't a hug that Harvey received. Mike's fist made contact with Harvey's jaw. For the next few seconds, it was a mess. Rachel gasped. Harvey was on the floor, and his girlfriend kneeled beside him, crying. "How dare you knock up my sister," Mike was ready to launch at Harvey again, but Rachel got in front of Mike. "Mike, stop, stop, please," Rachel pleaded, both her hands on Mike's chest. " Mike still tried to get past Rachel. "I told you to take care of her, Harvey! Not to knock her up!" Mike screamed, and Rachel flinched. Harvey stood up, his girlfriend beside her. Harvey nodded at Rachel to ushered Mike outside to the balcony.

"Are you out of your mind, Mike?" Rachel scolded him. He stood, head hung low, while Rachel stood in front of him, hands folded in front of him. "You stay out of this, Rachel," Mike said, his voice barely audible. "Stay out of it? We're getting married. Your sister is my sister too. And Harvey is a close friend of ours! They are so happy about it, Mike." Rachel sighed and sat beside him. She took his hand in hers. "Mike, she is your sister; she is happy." Rachel tried to reason with him. "Haven't you heard about Harvey? A walking heartbreaker," Mike scoffed as he continued, "Now my sister will be tied to him for the rest of her life." Rachel shook her head. "Ask again, Mike. Is that the Harvey you heard people talk about or the Harvey you knew all these years?" Rachel pulled her hand from Mike's and got back inside. Mike saw Rachel walk to where Harvey and his sister sat. His sister was visibly upset; her eyes were red. Rachel said something to Harvey, and he nodded and stood up. Rachel took Harvey's place, and they hugged. Harvey walked over and opened the sliding door leading to the balcony. Mike turned his face away, and Harvey sat next to him. "I know you're upset. But I don't appreciate you acting like that in front of the mother of my child. She isn't supposed to be stressed about something, let alone crying." Mike looked at Harvey. "We are happy. You might see me as someone who will never marry or plan for a child." Harvey let out a bitter laugh. "I thought the same too until I met your sister, and I would drop anything to be with your sister. I love her, Mike. She loves me. We are so happy about this. About our little family. When will you finally see that?" Mike still looked at Harvey, his face as stoic as ever. "We are going to have this baby, with or without your blessing." Harvey leaned closer. "I let this one slide, Mike. You are his brother, but no one disrespects my girlfriend like that, ever." Mike nodded. "So either you go back inside, tell your sister you are sorry, or you can show yourself the way out," Mike sighed. "I'm.." he paused, contemplating what to say next. "I'm sorry, Harvey. I've known you for years; if anything, I knew you better than anyone. I'm sorry I misjudged you. I've been treating you differently, even treating my sister differently." Mike shook his head, eyes closed. Harvey stretched his arms, once again inviting him for a hug. This time, Mike smiled at him.

"I will read this baby, The Constitution, every day," Mike's sister gasped. "What?" Mike asked and seemed oblivious. "He's going to be a lawyer, hands down," Mike said matter-of-factly, followed by nods from both Harvey and Rachel. "He will be like the best damn closer this city has ever seen." Rachel joked, imitating Harvey. "He? How if the baby is a she?" Both Harvey and Mike groaned at the same time. "I'll get my 9 mm ready," Mike said, face all serious. "You have a gun?" Rachel asked in horror. "Imagine all the boys trying to date her," Mike said as Harvey's face paled. Harvey placed a hand on her still-flat stomach. "Whatever this baby might turn up, he or she," Mike turned to his sister, "will be very much loved." Harvey nodded at Mike after he saw his girlfriend smile so wide with teary eyes. "One thing," Mike said, "I want my name as the baby's middle name."

MASTERLIST

[lavendertom]

The Neighbor Across the Street pt. 3

Mike Schmidt x Babysitter!f!Reader

part 1, part 2, part 4, part 5, part 6

wc: 2.4k

warnings: mentions of garrett’s kidnapping + mikes trauma from that, fluff, tiny age gap barely mentioned (as always, lmk if there’s anything i’ve missed)

summary: the neighbor across the street needs a babysitter, so you take the job, not knowing what’s in store for you as you grow closer to the siblings. AU where nothing bad happens at the pizzeria

quick note, as mentioned this is an AU, but mikes trauma is still there from garrett’s kidnapping but i won’t go down the wormhole of lore for this bc that’s not necessarily why i’m writing this

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The cool breeze of a spring afternoon could be felt as you made your way to the Schmidt’s house. It was a Saturday and technically you weren’t supposed to be at their house today.

Abby was found knocking on your front door just a few minutes earlier, asking if you could come over and play outside with her. You had a good feeling she’d been asking Mike all day, but he refused to call you and ask himself because you’d “probably be busy with school work.” So, the young girl took it upon herself to ask.

“Mike got me a huge box of sidewalk chalk we can draw with.” Abby told you as you walked to the house together. “I also have a bicycle, we can go on a bike ride together! Well, not you, you’re too big for my bike. But you can walk.”

You smiled at yourself, hearing the girl talk and talk about all of the things she was excited to do with you.

“Abby, what’d I say about going to y/n’s house?” you could hear Mike say when you reached the outside of their garage. He looked like he was cleaning some shelves full of random tools.

“She said she wasn’t busy!” Abby said, defending herself.

“It’s okay, I didn’t have much homework this weekend. Anything for my favorite neighbor.” you said in the midst of doing the handshake you and Abby made up one time while you were babysitting after her.

“I thought I was your favorite?” Mike said, pretending to sound offended.

“My second favorite. Get it right.” you said with a small smirk.

Before you could continue conversing with him, Abby dragged you by the wrist with a box of chalk in her other arm.

The two of you combined ended up drawing enough pictures to fill up a majority of the driveway. Granted it wasn’t long, but you ended up making a masterpiece out of the broken up concrete.

“It looks like your room threw up on the driveway, Abby.” Mike said walking out of the garage to assess the damage that was done.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Abby said grinning.

“Yeah, when’s it going to rain again? Or I can just grab the hose and–”

“Be nice!” you said, playfully hitting his arm.

“I want to go on a bike ride now!” Abby said as she ran to pull her bike out of the corner of the garage. She had a habit of quickly moving on from one activity to the next with little room in between.

“I’ll go with her.” you said with a smile.

“I’ll come too.” Mike said, already closing the garage door behind him before you could object and say something like “You need a break, go rest.” Abby already made her way down the drive way, riding towards the sidewalk.

“It’s nice out today.” you said in an attempt to make small talk as you guys followed behind Abby. You guys haven’t spoken much since that night he returned home from his first night shift. You’ll never know what compelled you to give him that hug and what compelled him to give you one in return before you left.

“Yeah, I was finally able to get some stuff done outside today.”

“That’s good.” you were taking in the sounds of the birds chirping, some trees were finally blossoming again after the weather started warming up a bit. After a few seconds of comfortable silence you spoke up, “How’s the job been?”

“As good as a night shift job can be.”

“You getting much sleep lately?” His eyes still looked tired as the day you first saw them, if not more.

“When have I ever.” he paused for a moment, not sure if he was ready to enter this conversation with you. “Sleep has never come easy for me.”

“You can say that again.” you said with a small chuckle.

“Has your mom told you much about our situation?” he said at a slightly softer volume than earlier.

“Not really.”

He took a deep breath before he began talking. “When I was about 12 years old, I had a little brother. His name was Garret. He was taken and we never found him. I was there when it happened.” he stopped for a moment, you looked at him and saw the hurt in his face. “I still have nightmares, every night. I just wish there was something I could’ve done. Anything.”

“I’m so sorry Mike.” you said quietly, you were shocked. You never knew the reasons why this family had it so hard, it made you feel almost guilty that you didn’t take the time to know them earlier. Neither of them asked to be put in this situation.

“It’s okay. It’s just hard thinking back on it. I feel like it’s my fault. Parents told me I needed to watch him. I let this happen.” he was fidgeting with his thumbs, taking in a deep breath. “Anyways, mom died a little after Abby was born, dad died not long after. I had no other choice but to take custody of Abby and become her guardian.”

Everything made sense to you now. Mike had his hands full all of the time and not by choice. No wonder he was always working.

“Are you doing any better now?” you asked.

“The nightmares are still there. I don’t think they’ll ever go away, but I put on a brave face for Abby. She knows very little about Garret, kind of want to keep it that way.”

“I understand.” you said looking down at the pavement beneath your feet. “Thanks for telling me this by the way.”

“You were going to find out one way or another. Better talk about it now than later.” the two of you looked ahead and saw Abby stopped at a street corner.

“You guys are too slow!” she shouted.

“We’re coming!” you shouted back. “If it means anything to you, you’re doing a hell of a good job. She cares about you.” you smiled softly, looking over at him.

“I hope so. Doesn’t seem like it sometimes. She’s a pain in the ass when you’re not around.” he mumbled.

“Really?” you asked, genuinely surprised. “She talks about you like you’re her entire world when I babysit.” The two instantly remembered what the girl had said to Y/n that one night, Y/n not knowing Mike heard all about it the next day.

“You would be a good princess for Mike.”

“Give her some time, she’ll open up to you one day.” you said reassuringly.

The rest of the walk you guys talked about random things. You told him all about your college courses which he found incredibly interesting, although not understanding much about what they entailed. He told you about some of his craziest encounters when he was a mall security guard. The two of you laughed so hard over one of them you almost tripped over the uneven pavement, making you guys laugh even harder.

When you finally returned to his house it was beginning to get dark out. Abby somehow was not tired one bit, despite having ridden her bike for almost 45 minutes.

“I promised Abs I’d let her make s’mores tonight. You can join us.” he said putting his hands in his pockets. It was starting to get cooler out as the sun set. “If you want.” he added at the last second.

“Sure, why not.” you had enjoyed getting to know him better, you didn’t really want to go home yet anyways. “I’m just gonna run home real quick to grab a hoodie, it’s getting co-“

“You can just borrow one of mine.” he interrupted.

“You sure? It’s not that big of a deal I can just run inside real quick.” your heart racing at the thought of him letting you wear one of his hoodies. He’s just being nice you reassured yourself, nothing more.

“Y/n, it’s fine.” he said with a chuckle. “You can go through the gate on the side of the house, Abby’s probably already back there.”

He went through the front door as you walked to the back of the house, and sure enough Abby was already back there placing a handful of s’mores supplies on a little table on the back porch of the house.

“You’re staying for s’mores, Y/n?” Abby asked, excitement beginning to fill her.

“Yeah.” you said smiling. You saw a stack of camping chairs leaning against the house. “Wanna help me grab the chairs?”

The two of you grabbed the chairs, placing them around the campfire pit. You heard the door open and saw Mike stepping out holding hoodies for both you and Abby.

He handed you one, you gave him a tight lipped smile after thanking him. You slipped it over your head, it was just slightly oversized on you. It smelled just like he did the night you gave him the hug, you thought you’d never get over that scent. Your hands were tucked into the pocket of it as you took a seat on one of the chairs, waiting for Mike to finish starting the fire.

“Okay Abs please don’t burn every single marshmallow this time, I want Y/n to actually have an edible s’more.” Mike said looking over at his sister who was already putting far too many marshmallows on a long stick.

Mike sat on the chair next to you. The moment felt peaceful as Abby skipped over holding a stick with marshmallows, holding it over the fire. You watched as Abby toasted the marshmallows, trying her hardest not to turn them all to charcoal. The sun had finally set and the sky was clear, the stars becoming more visible. You noticed Mike was looking up at the sky.

“Have you ever seen a shooting star before?” you asked, both of you now looking up.

“No, have you?” Mike replied.

“A few. When I was a kid, I used to sit out back and just watch the sky until I’d see one. I ended up being able to see a few because of the insane amount of time I’d be out there.” you were still looking up.

Mike turned his attention from the sky to you, watching how your lips formed the smallest of smiles as you spoke. He watched the way your eyes lit up from talking about something so important to you. He felt himself begin to smile, too.

You kept talking, not realizing that he wasn’t looking up at the sky anymore. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you, not when your face lit up with joy from just talking about something as simple as the stars. The way it seemed like your hair fell just perfectly and his hoodie seemed to fit you just right didn’t help the situation either.

You finally turned your head back to him realizing he had been looking at you the whole time, a small smile still on his face.

“What?” you said with a nervous laugh.

“Nothing.” he said with a smile, shaking his head slightly as he turned his attention back to the sky.

“Here’s your s’more, Y/n!” Abby said as she suddenly popped up next to you. You almost forgot she was even with you guys anymore, her focus was entirely on making the most yummy s’mores. That left little time for her to ask you all of her usual questions.

“Thanks Abby.” you said, smiling at her as she handed you a messy s’more. She ran back to grab another one, handing it to Mike.

“Thanks Abs.” he said, giving his sister a side hug before she could run away again to grab her own s’more.

The three of you spent the rest of the night snaking on many more s’mores and talking more about the stars until Abby fell asleep in her small camping chair. The fire was dimming, barely alive anymore. You and Mike continued watching the sky, pointing out constellations and attempting to see a shooting star with no luck.

“I should probably take Abby to bed.” Mike said as he stood up, making his way towards Abby. He picked up his little sister as gently as possible making sure not to wake her.

“Yeah I should probably head home now.” you said also standing up. You grabbed the chairs you all used to put them back where you found them.

“Thanks, Y/n. You didn’t have to.” he said as he made his way to the back door.

“No problem. The least I could do after those s’mores Abby made.” you smiled.

You followed him into the house as he walked towards the front door, Abby still peacefully asleep in his arms. He slowly opened the front door for you.

“See you Monday?” he asked.

“Yup.” you replied, and before you knew it he pulled you into a side hug. His two favorite people were in his arms now and he didn’t want it any other way.

“Have a good night, Y/n.”

“You too, Mike.” as you pulled away from his embrace, you put a hand on Abby’s shoulder. You gave the two a small smile which he returned as you walked out of the door.

And you bet he stood there until you were across the street, just like he did every other time you left their house.

When you returned home to your bedroom, which was still decorated like it was when you were 13, you felt warm inside. A different type of warm inside, the feeling you have when you care about someone so much and they care just as much back. All you wanted to do was make sure he knew you cared for him and Abby so much.

You looked at your bulletin board next to your door that had a photo of you and Abby from one of the first times you babysat her. She begged you to bring your polaroid camera and she took advantage of it, snapping all sorts of photos of you and her.

It wasn’t until you saw the photo that you realized you were still wearing Mikes hoodie he lent you. You looked in the mirror next to your door, admiring the hoodie. It wasn’t anything special, just a plain black hoodie, but it felt special. You were determined to continue changing their lives. Making sure their days were brighter, months filled with more happy days than sad ones.

You crawled into bed, too tired to take off the hoodie. You took in the smell of it one last time before you drifted off to sleep thinking about the memories you made today, hoping you’d never forget them.

——————————————————————————

jules jewels (tag list! lmk if u want to be added or removed 🤗)

@balesita @universi8 @browneyedgirly93 @prongsprincessworld @k3nnlolz @mxrvelouss

[redskull199987]

Maybe Mike with a reader who works at the daycare Abby goes to and he has a crush on her, when Abby, shows him who her favorite teacher (?) / daycare worker she likes fem reader pls

Heat Above

Mike Schmidt x fem!reader Request: Word Count: 1.2k Warnings:all fluffy basically. there is literally nothing to say here Summary:You never thought about becoming a daycare attendant, but here you were. Drawing together with a small girl, who told you all day long about her brother. Until you finally got to meet him… Masterlist

You never thought, you’d end up where you were right now. It hadn’t been your dream, nor had it been the thing you thought about when you were younger. It was just never on your page.

But here you were. A daycare attendant in a small dozy city, no one had ever heard of. It had never been your desire, but over the years, you had learned to adore the children who came in while their family couldn’t watch them. You had learned to appreciate the small things. For example when a child told you that they enjoyed playing with you, or that you were their favorite attendant. It always put a smile on your face, to see so many kids being delighted by the simplest things.

And those things often included drawing and sketching with the children. But one kid in particular always asked you to draw with her. The young girl you had come to known as Abby Schmidt always came running into your arms, the second she stepped foot into the daycare. And you always knew you were going to spend the rest of your day drawing with her and other children. Abby often told you about her friends and you loved to ask her questions about them, letting her come up with the most imaginative stories you had ever heard from a child.

“You know, you should meet my brother sometime.”, Abby mentioned one afternoon, while you sat with her on a small table by the window. She had been doodling for a while, but not wanting to show you what it was.

“Yeah?”, You asked with a small smile,”What’s he like?”

Abby looked up from her drawing for a second, figuring out what to say:”He sleeps most of the time. But he’s a good guy. He always protects me and is there for me.”

“You’re right.”, you agreed with her,”He does sound like a good guy. An awesome brother on top.”

“Sometimes he’s annoying.”, Abby said nonchalantly, without looking up from her drawing,”But I think he would like you.”

“You think so?”, you asked with furrowed brows, trying to remember what her brother looked like. You were pretty sure, you had seen him bring her in once or twice.

“Yeah.”, Abby nodded,”I like you, so he’ll like you too.”

You could only chuckle at her answer and lovingly ran a hand through her hair, ruffling it all out of place. Abby gave you a short look of annoyance, before her face broke and a fit of giggles escaped her.

“Now, You finally wanna show me what you drew there?”, You asked, a smile still present on your face.

She nodded strongly and pushed her pens away from the drawing before handing it to you. Your heart bloomed with joy as you realized that it was a drawing of her and you on the small table you were currently sitting at. Both of you were drawing on the picture, a big smile on your faces.

“This is beautiful, Abby.”, You smiled. Abby beamed up at you, before getting up from her chair and walking over to give you a hug. You quickly embraced the small girl, but nearly got a heart attack when she screamed into your ear.

“Mike!! You’re here already!”, Abby shouted happily. She quickly entangled herself from you and you watched how she ran over to a young man, probably your age. When You saw his face, You knew that you had seen him before.

So this was the ominous brother. 

You just looked at the two of them for a second, while Abby hugged her big brother, telling him of her day. You watched her rambling on with a smile on your face. But then you realized that Mike wasn’t looking at his sister. He was looking at you. His low gaze lingered on your face for a second longer, before he realized that he had been caught. 

You swiftly looked away too, an unknown heat rising to your cheeks. What had just happened?

Your thoughts were interrupted, when you heard Abby, calling you over to her and Mike.

You quickly got up and walked over to them. Your gaze was on Abby first as she gave you a wide grin, before you finally looked up at Mike, only to realize that his big chocolate brown eyes were already looking at you.

“Hy.”, You said shily, holding your hand out to him. Mike looked at you a bit perplexed for a second, before he seemed to break out of his trance, grabbing your hand and giving it a firm shake.

“Hey.”, he smiled,”I’m Mike, Abby’s brother.”

“Yeah, I've heard quite a bit about you already”, You chuckled bashfully.

Mike gave you a timid look:“Only good things I hope”

“Well, basically just that you sleep a lot.”, You mumbled, looking to the ground.

“You two are insufferable.”

Both You and Mike looked at each other for a second, before turning your heads to look at Abby with furrowed brows. The small girl looked back and forth between the two of you, before an annoyed groan left her lips:”And? Will you go out with each other?!

You immediately felt the heat rising back to your cheeks and you looked away from the two of them for a second. You could see that Mike wasn’t doing any better. His cheeks were clearly reddened and he nervously brushed a hand through his hair.

“I’m sorry. S-She doesn’t know what she's talking about…Miss…?”, Mike tried to explain his little sister.

“L/N. But Y/N is fine.”, You explained with a small smile. You didn’t know what came to you, but in a boost of confidence, you turned around to Abby:”Why don’t you go grab your jacket, Abby? While the grown-ups talk a bit.”

Abby gave you a knowing grin before she nodded and took off to get her stuff.

“Once again, I’m sorry about her. She really doesn’t know when to shut up.”, Mike mumbled. 

“It’s alright”, You smiled,”And besides, she isn’t wrong.”

Mike looked at you perplexed, but you only grabbed his sleeve, pulling him to one of the tables. He didn’t protest and you took that as a good sign. You grabbed a small piece of paper and swiftly scribbled down your phone number, before handing it to Mike:”You know, in case you need a babysitter…or someone to meet up with.”

Mike gave you a soft smile, while he put the paper into his pocket:”Do you have time this weekend?”

“I’m off at five.”, You answered, as the two of you walked towards the exit, where Abby was already waiting.

“I’ll call you.”, Mike uttered. You could only nod at him, as you reached Abby. The small girl grabbed Mike’s hand and with a few small goodbyes, the two of them were out of the door. 

You looked after them for a second and while Abby was already rambling on again, Mike turned around once more, giving you a gentle smile and a wave. You quickly waved back at him, before they reached his car.

With a rapidly beating heart, you finally close the door of the daycare. You couldn’t believe it. You had a date on Friday.

[mikefaistslut]

anything for you

chapter 3

“So, I googled you.” It was the first thing I could think to say. I wish I’d gone with “you look nice,” or maybe “good to see you again,” but I went with, “So, I googled you.”

“Did you find anything good?” He was perfectly relaxed, and he really did look nice. Suit and tie, hair perfectly fluffy.

“Broadway isn’t exactly a small stage.” I said, easing into it. He could see where I was going with this.

“I liked that you didn’t know who I was. Also, I would’ve seemed like a dick if I’d read off my entire professional resume. ‘Did you want my extra bag of peanuts? Also, I wanted to let you know I was nominated for a Tony.’ I’d only bring it up in casual conversation if i’d won.”

"West Side Story isn't exactly a 'short film' either. There's pictures of you standing next to Steven. Spielberg." I talked about it like this was news to him, like it wasn't literally his life and his memories. He seemed amused.

"Are you angry I didn't tell you?"

"Not angry so much as just shocked. I assumed I was flirting with a super low-key struggle-for-your-art kinda guy. Not a guy who knows what Steven Spielberg smells like."

"Kind of citrus-y. Maybe a little earthy tone to it." I hated myself for all the questions I had to ask. But I couldn't not ask.

"So if you're that famous, how come you weren't flying on a private jet situation?"

"I'm not private jet famous. I mean, don't get me wrong, I definitely get recognized, it's just more by theater people. Dear Evan Hansen fans, West Side, Newsies, you get it."

"See, that was you reading off your professional resume. But I figured that's what it was. I was never super into musicals. I tried to be, I could just never get it to stick in my brain. I went in and out of a lot of phases as a kid." I was dying to ask more of the juicy details, but I couldn't. Not yet. On the other hand, I found myself just wanting to know more about him personally, and I wanted him to know more about me. All the lame stuff like his favorite color, his favorites movies when he was a little kid, what his parents are like, etc. But I also wanted to know what it would be like to touch him. To kiss his beautiful face. To breathe him in. I asked all the questions and I let him go on and on. He'd try to steer the conversation to something about me and I'd turn it right back around to him. Anything just to stare at that gorgeous face just one second longer. Dinner was coming to an end and I hadn't even noticed how much time had passed until he brought it up.

"I'm sorry, I feel like I've just talked about only myself for the last three hours. Is that a total turn-off?" He was so fucking adorable.

"You could talk to me about anything and it wouldn't be a turn-off." And I meant it too. He seemed to like this answer.

"So if I started to talk about calculus or hip dysplasia or microbiology, you'd still want to go back to my hotel room with me?"

"Do you even know enough about those things to have an actual conversation about them?" I was avoiding the question.

"You're avoiding the question.. and no, I don't. I'm a dramatic arts school drop out. Sexy, right?"

I was eager, and he could tell. "Are you ready to go now?" I asked, gaining confidence.

"I was waiting for you to say that." Mike quickly paid the bill and stretched his hand out to mine to lead me out of the restaurant and into the cool, London air. He placed his hand on the small of my back as we walked to his hotel. I began to feel so incredibly nervous. Would he want to see me again if I gave it all away so soon? Would he still respect me? Does he even respect me now? A million questions were flooding through my mind, but I did my best to just relax. I decided to take things slow and let him take the lead. Maybe I was over thinking everything and he was just leading me back to his hotel room so we could order room service dessert and watch movies together, fully clothed and sitting six feet away from each other on opposite ends of the room. Maybe I was completely delusional and nothing remotely exciting was going to happen.

When we got to his hotel and the elevator doors shut to take us up to his room, I felt the sexual tension. At that point, I didn't care if he respected me. I needed to touch him and I needed him to touch me. I started slow, taking my hand from his and reaching further up his arm to wrap my hand around his bicep.

"Are you nervous?" He was a mind reader apparently.

"A hundred percent. But I really like you. Really really like you. I'm trying to be present and in the moment and spontaneous, and-"

He cut me off by pressing each of his hands on the sides of my face, pushing my hair behind my ears and walking me back against the wall of the elevator. He looked into my eyes and whispered, so delicately, "I'm going to kiss you now, okay?" Him asking only made it a million times more attractive. Cheeks flushed and heart in my stomach, I could only nod. He pressed his lips to mine. Slowly, our mouths melted together as I wrapped my hands around his slender waist, pulling him into me. Needing him even closer than he already was if that was even possible. As we both grew more passionate, more needy for each other, the elevator doors opened to his floor. We both pull ourselves away at the sound of someone clearing their throat, clearly not prepared to walk in on the scene we'd created.

"Oh! Uh, um- we're very sorry," Mike says as he grabs my hand and pulls me out of the elevator, rushing me down the hallway while simultaneously fishing for his key in his pants pocket. I laugh so hard my stomach begins to cramp.

The second we're inside his hotel room, I feel myself being picked up and thrown over Mike's shoulder. Both laughing, he places me on his bed and leans over, propping himself up on his hands.

"I'm going to fuck you now, is that okay?"

[gender-fluidbees]

who wants to read the first chapter of my byler fake dating wip to decide if I should keep writing it?

The Byers-Hopper living room had been temporarily turned into a large cave of sleeping bags and blankets. They had managed to get away with the excuse of Max and El coincidentally having a sleepover at the same time the boys did. Not at all a mixed event. Dustin had been trying to throw popcorn into Max’s mouth while Lucas bugged Will with the same question he had been asking since he came out to them.

“When are you gonna get a boyfriend?” Lucas whined.

Will rolled his eyes and set his soda down on the floor next to him.

“As soon as I find a gay boy in Hawkins that is out and wants to date me,” he said with a dry tone that implied the odds of that were very slim, at which Dustin scoffed as if personally offended without looking away from his mission.

“Will, if I liked boys, I would be all over you,” he insisted.

They all laughed as Will pulled a disgusted face, though he appreciated the gesture.

“Thanks, man, but I’m good.”

“You must like someone,” said Lucas with a raised eyebrow.

Will’s eyes darted to Mike, lightning quick so no one would catch it, but he met his gaze before looking away and clearing his throat.

“Leave him alone, guys,” Mike said, annoyed. Max’s eyebrows appeared to launch off her forehead but she said nothing. Of course Mike would be the one to help him, to protect him. He always was, wasn’t he?

There was a moment of silence before El stood up and stretched.

“I am getting more pizza,” she announced and Dustin went to join her.

They managed to make it another two hours before the topic came up again. This time, surprisingly, it was El who said something. Everyone else was getting ready for bed and she sat next to him on the floor.

“Do you not like anyone?” she asked earnestly. Will sighed.

“It’s complicated.”

She paused before saying, “I hope it stops being complicated. I hope you get him.”

Will smiled and hugged his sister as everyone walked back into the room.

“What are we talking about?” asked Dustin.

“Boys,” El told him.

“Yes! Get my boy some di-“

“MAX!” Will interrupted before she could finish her sentence. His face flushed a dark red and he shook his head in disbelief. This feeling only increased when he saw Mike trying to cover up a laugh with a cough.

“Something funny, Michael?” he asked.

“Nope,” he said, finally laughing out loud.

That laugh. Will had heard it all his life and yet he never tired of it. The way his nose scrunched and his cheeks dusted with pink. It was Will’s favorite way to draw him.

They had all settled in to watch a movie, and the subject was not brought up, but Will’s mind wouldn’t let the topic go.

When would he get a boyfriend, if ever? Why was he stuck on Mike after all these years? Why couldn’t he just move on?

“Hey,” Mike said in his ear from beside him on the floor, “You ok?” 

Will swallowed. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Mike’s breath had been hot on his cheek and they were pressed up so close against the couch. Will wiped his sweaty hands and excused himself to go to the bathroom. He just needed a moment to breathe.

When he reached the bathroom and closed the door, he finally felt his limbs relax. It had only been about a minute and a half before there was a knock at the bathroom door.

“Yeah?” Will called.

“Will, it’s Mike, I just came to check on you.”

He opened the door to let Mike in and closed it once more. The two boys sat on the cold tile, knees touching ever so slightly.

“What’s going on?” he asked softly and Will sighed deeply.

“It’s stupid, I’m just a bit tired of all the relationship questions.”

Mike nodded sagely and his brows furrowed. Will knew that face. It was the same face Mike made when he had an idea for a campaign. That was a dangerous face.

“Miiiike. What are you planning?” he pouted, shoving the boy.

“Shh, let me think,” he said, putting his finger to Will’s lips for a second. He went cross eyed to look at the hand on his mouth and his heart picked up about ten paces. Mike removed his hand and stood up, beginning to pace the small bathroom and Will stood soon after in confusion.

“Okay, so the party won’t stop bothering you about dating someone, yes?”

“Yes?” Will said slowly.

“And your family is worried you're lonely, yes?”

“Hey! I-”

“Shut up and let me finish. I want to move out of my dad’s house but he won’t let me…” Mike trailed off as if Will could finish the thought for him.

“Mike, literally what do those things have to do with each other?”

He looked at Will like it was obvious and held his hands out in a general ‘duh’ gesture.

“You date me!”

Will caught a glimpse of the face he made in the bathroom mirror, and no words could describe what that emotion was. Will calls it, ‘my-best-friend-who-is-a-boy-and-very-straight-who-I-am-in-love-with-says-I-should-date-him.’

It took a moment for Will to get the word out of his mouth, as it had gotten very dry. “What?”

“You date me! Pretend, of course-”

“Of course.”

“-so everyone leaves you alone and my dad kicks me out because he’s a piece of shit. Everybody wins!”

After a moment, he deduced that Mike was not joking, and the panic receptors in his brain which never did their job correctly made him laugh. Loudly.

“What are you smoking, Mike?”

“What?” Mike asked, offended. He seemed to think it was a great plan. Will caught his breath and leaned against the wall.

“Mike, no one’s gonna buy that. Also, it is not worth losing your family over a joke. What if he- what if he hurt you?”

As Will tried to get Mike to see reason, some part of him wanted to say yes. Some awful, selfish, thirteen year old part of him wanted Mike in whatever way he could get him even if it was fake. 

Mike seemed to think Will’s words over, and he had a moment of hope that the boy would change his mind.

“You think he would hurt me?” Mike asked, as if this had never occurred to him.

“Mike, I’m not saying your dad’s a bad person, but-”

“He’s the scum of the earth, but continue.”

“People do crazy things when they think someone they love might be g- might be like me.”

Mike’s face twisted in a way that churned Will’s stomach. No, don’t be sad, don’t look like a kicked puppy. 

“Well then we gotta do it.”

“What?!?” Will exclaimed, more confused than ever. He thought he had changed his mind, not egged him on.

“Think about it. If Hawkins has a publicly gay couple, it could make it easier for other people.”

“You want it to be public?” Will screeched. Okay, Mike had officially lost his mind, because if he thought the bullying was bad already, just wait until he announced he was a boykisser.

Mike grinned. “Are you agreeing?”

“No! I’m the opposite of agreeing! I’m disagreeing! I am the antithesis to whatever point it is that you’re trying to make!”

Mike just laughed. “The point is it’s a win-win situation. We say we’re dating, we hold hands in front of people, maybe kiss a few times then we stage a break up. No harm done.”

Kiss. He wanted them to kiss. Well, no, not wanted, but he suggested it. Oh god.

“You do realize if your father kicks you out, you might never speak to him again.”

“If that’s the worst case scenario, then this plan is better than I thought.”

Will sighed again, running his hands over his face. He only had so much willpower. The boy he had been in love with for years was offering a free trial on a silver platter and wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“How would it work?” he asked quietly, trying not to read into the way Mike’s face lit up when he said it.

“We would walk downstairs now holding hands and tell the party we’re dating. Then tomorrow we tell your family. Word gets around, my dad explodes, I move in with Nancy.”

“That’s it? That’s your genius plan? We need to figure out every step. How long have we been dating? Who asked who? When did you realize you were gay? Are you even gay or are you bisexual? Do we…”

Will trailed off and grinded his teeth. Mike cocked his head.

“Do we what?”

“...kiss?”

Mike paused a second before laughing at Will’s hushed tone.

“I would hope so, if we were dating.”

Will rolled his eyes and grabbed Mike by the shoulders to make him look at him, ignoring the way his heart fluttered at the contact. He needed to get this point across.

“Mike. If we were fake dating. If we kissed. Then that means that you would have to kiss me. On the lips. Me and you,” he said clearly, sure that this would be the deal breaker to snap him out of it. Instead, Mike just looked at him with the same serious face, pushing Will’s hands off his shoulders.

“Will. I know. That’s how kissing works,” he said with a shit eating grin.

“And you’re okay with that?”

This was Will’s lifelong dream and worst nightmare all wrapped into one.

“Yeah, I mean, it would be weird if it was like Lucas or something but it’s you.”

He said it so plainly, so surely that Will knew he meant it. And that hurt so wonderfully. His head was spinning. No, he did not want to kiss him, but he would rather kiss him than another boy. He offered.

“Have you ever kissed anyone?” Mike asked, making Will roll his eyes.

“Mike, when would I have ever had the chance to kiss someone?”

Mike just shrugged and leaned back against the sink. “Wanna practice? Y’know, before we kiss in front of someone else.”

Will blanched. “I- I still haven’t agreed, technically.”

His heart seemed to be trying to escape his ribcage and he willed it to calm down. This was not happening. Mike smiled at him, that wonderful smile, and knelt down on one knee, holding out cupped hands in front of him.

“William Byers, will you do me the honor of fake dating me?”

There was a pause, and then, “Ugh, fine. Get off the floor, it’s dirty.”

Mike stood and brushed off his pants with a haughty sort of pride at having convinced him. The boys looked at each other for a moment, saying nothing.

“So, uh, what now?” Will asked, fidgeting.

“You never answered my other question.” Mike said, stepping closer. Will’s heart pounded.

“What other question?”

Mike took another step so he was almost pressed against Will, but not quite.

“Wanna practice?”

Oh god. What was he supposed to say? Which answer was less suspicious? If he said yes, he would seem too eager, but if he said no, it would look like he was hiding something.

Mike studied his face and took a quick step back, looking guilty. “Hey, we don’t have to kiss at all if you’re not comfortable with that. Maybe we’re not a PDA couple.”

Will groaned internally. Had he just missed his one chance to kiss Mike Wheeler? It’s not like that offer was going to present itself again.

“No,” he said too quickly, “I mean, no it doesn’t make me uncomfortable. We can… kiss.”

Mike raised an eyebrow and stepped back into Will’s personal space.

“You sure?”

“M’sure,” he breathed.

Mike slowly reached out to grab his chin and Will tried not to squirm. His hands were big enough to cradle his whole face if he wanted to. He felt himself being tugged forward slightly and Mike Wheeler was kissing him. It was… disappointing. Will forgot to close his eyes or do anything with his lips and his hands were just hanging at his sides uselessly. Mike pulled away slightly. Well, that was it. His first kiss. Wahoo.

“You gonna kiss me back or what?” he asked with a smirk, his voice slightly scratchy, setting every nerve ending in his body on fire.

Their lips touched again, and this time he responded. He closed his eyes and kissed him back. Their lips slotted awkwardly at first, but Will tilted his head to the right and there it was. This was the kiss that he had wanted. It was soft and his heart was in his throat as he was trying so hard to not fuck it up. Mike pressed closer to him, putting a hand on the wall beside him. His lips opened slightly, prying Will’s open as he skated his tongue across his bottom lip. Will inhaled sharply through his nose and pulled away so he could breathe. His lips tingled slightly and he felt like he was only half awake.

“We should probably go back downstairs,” Mike said plainly, looking unaffected. Will drew in a deep breath to steady his thoughts and nodded. Mike stepped away and held out his hand for Will to take.

“Shall we?”

Will took his hand shakily and their fingers interlocked. They had actually held hands before. They did it a lot as kids until they were told they weren’t supposed to. Mike’s hands were much bigger now than they had been back then, and Will hoped his weren’t too sweaty.

They made their way downstairs, hand in hand in the dark living room. All eyes flicked over to them from the TV, aside from Max who hadn’t been looking in the first place.

“What took you so long?” she asked while everyone else silently clocked their intertwined hands.

“Uh, sorry. Headache,” Will said plainly.

“Bullshit,” Max called from the couch.

“What?”

“Bullshit. What happened?”

Although she was blind, Max still never missed anything.

“Uh, well,” Mike said, cheeks coloring, “Me and Will are kinda dating.”

Everyone was quiet for a moment and Will considered taking his chances with a tall building, but then there was a cacophony of, “Finally!” and “I knew it!”, which Mike made a face at, but said nothing. 

Eventually, everyone was tired enough to actually go to sleep, and they began to settle into their sleeping bags.

“What are you doing?” Will asked as Mike pushed his sleeping bag closer to his.

“Shouldn’t we sleep together?”

Will’s mouth went dry at the wording and he just nodded mutely as he crawled in to go to sleep. Mike did the same, so close that Will could feel his breath on his nose. Those lips. He had kissed those lips. Rather poorly at first, but still. Mike shifted even closer and Will swore all of Hawkins could hear his heart beating. Everyone else had already fallen asleep, it being three in the morning, so it was really just them.

“Mike,” Will whispered, “No one’s watching.”

“Just to be safe,” Mike whispered back, and leaned in, pressing their lips together quickly before pulling away and laying his head down, still facing him. “Goodnight, boyfriend.”

Will sighed. “Goodnight.”

If this plan didn’t go to shit, he owed the universe a lot of money.