#sweet fic where they just are sweet together

[tthoroughfare]

garden daisy (part 2) // ellie williams

*･゜ﾟ･* summary: ellie makes a new friend, and you feel all weird about it.

*･゜ﾟ･* pairing: modern!ellie x reader

*･゜ﾟ･* content: sfw

*･゜ﾟ･* length: 1.6k

this is part two of this series! find part one here

okay so i feel like the way i've organized this series is kind of confusing as it started as a random blurb... technically part one is this blurb however the real story starts in the xmas fic! the blurb just kind of exists floating around somewhere before the events of that and sets up the dynamic. call it part 0.5 i guess. also i'm so sorry if ur name is haley it was genuinely the first name i thought of hahaha

after christmas, once you’re all settled back into life at college, ellie gets a new job. it’s just a few shifts a week at a music store, but she seems to be enjoying it. you’re happy for her; it’s nice to see her getting out of the apartment more, doing something that allows her to be in her element.

but then she starts mentioning a girl she works with. like, a lot.

“dude, look at what haley sent me today, i was dying.”

“haley had, like, the coolest shirt on at work.”

“oh my god, so i found out haley likes comics, too.”

at first, it doesn’t really bother you. then, it’s a case of you trying not to let it bother you. why even should it? she’s allowed to make new friends; her life doesn’t revolve around you.

still, you don’t like the way your chest starts to twist every time she gets mentioned, every time you see ellie smiling at her phone. you can hear them on facetime frequently through the thin walls of your apartment, and you more often than not end up shoving your headphones in to drown it out.

they start spending time together outside of work, too. she mentions that they’re going to see an exhibit together on a shared day off, and it takes everything for you to look up from your laptop, give her a tight smile and utter, “cool.”

you can tell she’s a bit dispirited by your reaction, like she’s debating saying something. she leaves it, though, just nodding once and pursing her lips before walking away. you kick yourself for it immediately — wishing you’d tried harder to appear enthusiastic for her. you’re worried it could be the seed of a wedge being driven.

it’s not like she’s completely neglected your friendship. you live together. you see her every day. she still gently knocks at your ajar door, poking her head around and asking if you want to watch a movie with her. you make dinner together on friday nights, something you’d done since you moved out of the dorms and got a semi-decent place.

you’re just so used to it being the two of you. sure, you both have other friends, but you’re best friends. you can’t help but feel a little uneasy all of a sudden someone new is making their way up the ladder, ellie not having quite as much time for you anymore.

at least, that’s what you tell yourself the reason is. you know the real one.

you eventually meet the esteemed haley when she comes over to hang out, and to your petty dismay she well and truly lives up to the boasting. you’ve seen pictures of her (as in, you found her on instagram and stalked her at two in the morning), but she’s even prettier in person. she’s sweet, too, giving you a hug and saying how great it is to finally meet you. ellie talks about you all the time, apparently.

the evening’s spent with the tv on, a few drinks sipped. you’re on one side of the couch, ellie on the other, new friend in the middle. you hate how genuinely likeable she is; she goes out of her way to speak to you, asking you questions about yourself and chatting jovially when you find common ground. she’s cool, smart, witty — it’s impossible not to compare yourself, and feel subpar. like old news.

and you wish you weren’t, but you’re reading into every little thing. the way the two of them easily bounce off of each other’s jokes, the way you can see even where you’re from how ellie’s eyes light up when she looks at her. deciding three’s a crowd and you’re just hurting your own feelings, you call it pretty early.

when you stand after finishing your drink and announce that you’re going to bed, you note the way that ellie’s face drops. “oh… really?”

you scrunch your nose, trying to sound untroubled. “yeah, i’m kinda tired, so…”

“m’kay,” she replies, chewing slightly at the inside of her cheek. she knows you better than that. since you first met, you’ve never been ‘kinda tired’ by nine.

after a pause and a quick look back and forth between the two of you, haley gives you a smile, reiterating her earlier statement. “well, it was so nice to meet you, anyway.”

you return it, nodding. your eyes flit to ellie for a split-second. “yeah, you too. see you both later.”

with that, you place your glass in the sink across the room and head off down the hall.

you change and get ready for bed, although the plan was never to sleep. you’re nestled under a blanket, lights dim and a candle burning as you keep your eyes trained on the bullshit stream of youtube videos you’d put on. you’re not really paying attention, mind well and truly elsewhere; simultaneously feeling sorry for yourself, and like the most petty, mean person in the world.

you feel pathetic for wishing ellie’s new friend wasn’t so easy to get along with. she came off as a nice person, and not in a sickly, fabricated way. you could understand how she’d easily tugged ellie out of her shell. a part of yourself had been secretly hoping she was irritating, or bitchy, or weird towards you — you just wanted something to latch onto, something to validate all the uncomfortable emotions that had been swirling ever since she became prominent.

but there was nothing. now all you’re left with is a weird bitterness towards a perfectly normal, sweet girl, her only crime being fetching up a childish possessiveness within you.

you don’t even understand why you’re like this over her in particular; ellie was always an introvert, but it wasn’t like she was a complete recluse. she’d had a serious girlfriend in high school, seen a couple of girls your first year of college, and you don’t remember feeling anywhere near how you are right now. you just guessed you didn’t have as much understanding of how you looked at her back then, combined with the domesticity of now having your own real place luring you into a warped way of thinking.

you hear haley leave around an hour and a half after you’d taken yourself to bed, followed by ellie shuffling around the kitchen space. the tap runs and there are a few clinks as she washes then places the three glasses to dry, hitting the lights off. her room’s further down the hall from yours, and she hesitates as she’s making her way there.

a few light taps sound from the other side of the door. “you asleep?”

“… no,” you call out softly, watching as it cracks open and ellie picks her way in. wordlessly, she plops herself onto the bed next to you, arm behind her head. you shift away a little, offering her more room.

“what’re you watching?”

“uh…” grabbing the remote, you pause the video for a beat so the title shows. you’re not even sure; you’d just selected the first you saw, then let the rest autoplay. “… ‘six most disturbing forest encounters caught on camera’.”

she chuckles. “spooky.”

“eh… they’re all fake.” you look up at her, smiling a little.

“could’ve fooled me.”

“i’m sure,” you laugh lightly, feeling the need to turn away when she goes to meet your eyes.

it’s quiet for a while, but you can sense she wants to say something. it’s not like one of the times she waltzes into your room simply to hang out, sit at the side of one another peacefully.

“you okay?” she eventually asks gently, turning her head to regard you. you don’t meet it.

“yeah, i’m fine.”

“you sure? ‘cause… i don’t know. you seem a little…”

“i’m all good.” glancing up, you offer an unconvincing, flickery smile. “don’t worry.”

“… okay.”

you can tell it offers no comfort, but she doesn’t push it. just settles further into the bed, scratching at her chin.

her eyes dart from the tv screen to the wall, then back to you. “haley’s cool, right? guessed you guys would get along.”

“yeah, she seems nice.”

she’s really not being subtle; but then again, neither are you. you’d been perfectly friendly while you were all together, but the way you’d disappeared coupled with your increasingly half-hearted responses whenever she was brought up pointed elsewhere.

“seriously, what’s up?” she turns onto her side to face you, resting her head on her arm. “i don’t like this.”

you roll your eyes, sighing as you turn, mirroring her. “it’s stupid.”

“what’s stupid?”

your mind flashes with a million ways you can get an overview of your feelings out, without having to tell her the root cause. “i don’t know, i’m just… like, used to it being… y’know, me and you.”

she pulls a face, letting out a fond scoff and furrowing her brow. “what do you mean?”

a tiny groan sounds from your throat, fingertips rubbing at your eye. “i’m just being stupid. fuckin’ embarrassing.”

laughing quietly again, she narrows her eyes a little. “what, are you, like… jealous?”

“no, i just… i don’t know. ignore me.” you’re trying to ignore the way you can feel your cheeks heat up when she says that word. you’d known all along that’s what you were, but being confronted with it is a whole other sensation entirely.

she doesn’t say anything for a moment, just keeps a small smirk on her face and looks down. “that is stupid.”

“right. thanks.”

“no, like…” subconsciously shuffling closer, her leg brushes yours. she quickly moves it. “dude, i can have other friends, but no-one’s gonna be you.”

you blink, thrown by her sincerity. you’d half-expected her to poke a little fun, call you a dumbass. she continues, your eyes meeting hers as she settles her head into the palm of her hand. “you’re always gonna be my best friend.”

yeah, i know, you think. that’s the problem.

[diamonddaze01]

the way the cookie crumbles

pairing: mingyu x reader | wc: 0.9k genre: humor, fluff, established relationship rating: e for everyone! warnings: none! a/n: for the lovely wonderful @gyubakeries, to whom i promised a baking fic with mingyu <3 love u tiya // set in the same universe as love: best served hot and seasoned with love (shameless plug you should go read that too if u love chef mingoo)

The smell of burnt sugar lingers in the air as you fan the smoke detector with a dishtowel, panic laced in every movement. You were sure you’d followed the recipe to a T, but now, the tray of charcoal discs sitting on the counter is telling a very different story.

Your plan had been simple: make cookies for Mingyu as a surprise. Something sweet for someone who spent his days making sure others ate well, including you. But now, the kitchen looks like a battlefield, and you’re starting to think this was a bad idea.

The sound of the front door unlocking pulls you from your thoughts. You freeze, dishtowel in hand, and turn to see Mingyu stepping inside. He’s still in his chef’s jacket, a little tired but undeniably handsome. When he spots you standing sheepishly in the smoky kitchen, his eyebrows raise in surprise.

“What’s going on in here?” he asks, a teasing lilt in his voice as he sets his bag down. He sniffs the air and winces playfully. “Were you… trying to summon me with burnt offerings?”

“Ha, ha,” you mutter, crossing your arms over your chest. “I was trying to make cookies for you, okay? But clearly, baking is not my thing.”

Mingyu’s lips twitch as he tries to hold back a laugh, but it’s no use. He bursts out laughing, his deep voice filling the room as he doubles over slightly. “You were making cookies? For me?” he manages between chuckles. “This is… adorable.”

You pout, throwing the dishtowel at him. “Stop laughing! I was trying to be nice.”

He catches the towel mid-air, grinning from ear to ear. “Sorry, sorry. It’s sweet, really. But you can’t expect me not to laugh when you’ve…” He gestures toward the tray of burnt cookies. “Did you bake these on purpose as a prank?”

“No!” you protest. “I’m just bad at this.”

Still smiling, Mingyu crosses the room in a few strides, closing the distance between you. His arms wrap around you, strong and steady, pulling you into his chest. His scent—an intoxicating blend of citrusy soap and the faint smoky aroma of a restaurant kitchen—envelops you. “I’m not mad,” he murmurs softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Then another to your temple. And one more, playfully, to the tip of your nose. “In fact, I think it’s really cute. You wanted to do something for me after my long day.”

You huff, your resolve to stay annoyed crumbling under the weight of his affection. “It doesn’t feel cute. It feels embarrassing.”

Mingyu pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, his own warm and twinkling with mischief. “Embarrassing? You? Never.” He peppers exaggerated kisses across your face until laughter bubbles up from your chest. “See? That’s better.”

“Stop it, Mingyu!” you giggle, swatting at his chest. “You’re ridiculous!”

“But you’re smiling now,” he says, his grin triumphant. “And you know what? We’re not giving up on cookies. Let’s make a new batch together.”

“Together?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. “You’re not too tired?”

“Never too tired for you,” he replies, flashing you a grin that makes your heart skip a beat. “Plus, I’m a professional. We’ll have cookies in no time.”

He pulls off his chef’s jacket and rolls up his sleeves, revealing his strong forearms. “Okay, where’s the flour?”

You hand him the bag, and he sets it on the counter. Before you know it, he’s standing behind you, his large hands gently guiding yours as you measure out the ingredients. “Level it off, like this,” he says, his breath warm against your ear. “Perfect.”

Your heart warms at the feeling of his chest against your back, but you focus on following his instructions. When it’s time to mix the dough, he stays behind you, his hands covering yours on the wooden spoon. The strength of his arms envelops you, and you can’t help but feel a little giddy.

“See? You’re doing great,” Mingyu says, his voice low and encouraging. “No more burnt offerings.”

“You’re never letting me live that down, are you?” you ask, tilting your head back to look at him.

“Not a chance,” he replies with a playful smirk before leaning down to kiss the tip of your nose.

When the dough is ready, you both work together to scoop it onto the baking tray. Mingyu’s arms find their way around your waist as you place each dollop of dough, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“You’re just hovering so you can steal a bite,” you tease, nudging him with your elbow.

“Caught me,” he admits, snagging a bit of dough from the bowl and popping it into his mouth. “Quality control.”

You roll your eyes but can’t hide your smile. Once the tray is full, you place it in the oven and set the timer. Mingyu pulls you into his arms again, swaying you gently in the middle of the kitchen.

“Thank you,” he says softly, his voice sincere. “For wanting to do something nice for me. Even if it didn’t go perfectly, it means a lot.”

You rest your head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “You always do so much for me. I just wanted to return the favor.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “You’re enough just as you are. But baking cookies together? That’s a bonus.”

When the timer goes off, the two of you pull the tray from the oven to reveal golden-brown cookies, perfectly baked. Mingyu grins and holds up one of them. “See? Teamwork makes the dream work.”

You take a bite of the cookie he offers, the warm, gooey sweetness melting on your tongue. “Okay, fine. You win. These are amazing.”

Mingyu’s smile is smug but loving. “Told you. Now, let’s clean up before we burn the next batch.”

[dear-aubade]

first of all I love your writing style 💔

second: can you make a drabble where Joel comforts reader during her cold or any kind of sickness, maybe even usual stomachache aand then they have soft cute gentle xex, and he whispers praises to her, soothing all of her aches, lyyy

- 🐿️

Awwe thank you for the kind words anon, I’m glad you like my work! Here you go!

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: You try to hide your sickness from Joel because you don’t want to stress him out. It doesn’t work.

Notes: Sick fic, praise kink, soft!dom!joel, sub!reader, sick!reader, reader is in her head a lot, unprotected p in v, reader is very much Joel’s baby, READER IS NOT PREGNANT SHE’S JUST NAUSEOUS

It was normal for you to be reserved. A little quieter than most, a little more soft. Joel knew you better than anybody, and he could tell when you’d slipped into your daydreams, just needing a few moments to drift off within your own head.

But this…this was different.

The day had started off as usual. You and Joel woke up together tangled in blankets, his strong arms holding you close. But the moment you blinked your bleary eyes awake you gave him a swift kiss and mumbled, “M’gonna go shower” before leaving him alone in bed.

Things only got stranger from there. That afternoon Joel was scheduled to leave for a short patrol with Tommy—lately there had been more Clicker sightings, so he and his brother had increased the amount of rotations needed per day. Joel didn’t want to leave you alone when he suspected something was wrong, but it was necessary for him to go if they wanted to keep Jackson a safe haven.

Normally when he was about to leave you’d get all teary-eyed and try to get as many kisses from him as you could before he took off. This time, however, you gave him a short smile and kissed his cheek. “I’ll see you when you get back.”

That sent Joel’s suspicion through the roof. He had studied your face, searching for any indication there might be something off. Your eyes were a little droopy, but he also knew that the night before you’d been up late with him reading to you…

“Is everything okay, baby?” he had asked softly.

Something flickered in your eyes and a little v appeared between your brow as it creased in confusion. “Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I don’t know, I’m just a little worried about you.”

At that, you gave him an innocent smile. “I’m just tired, Joel. I’m okay.” You stood on your tiptoes to press your lips to his in a soft peck. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

Against his better judgement, he’d left. But that didn’t stop him from worrying about you all throughout patrol.

You felt absolutely awful.

In the morning you’d woken with quite possibly the worst stomach ache you’d ever experienced. You thought a shower might make you feel better, that your body was just disagreeing with something you’d eaten the day before.

It got worse. It seemed that anything you did made the nausea flare up. All you wanted to do was be Joel’s princess for the day, to whine until he took you in his arms and hushed your cries with sweet words and sweeter kisses.

But he had patrol that day, and you didn’t want him to worry. You weren’t supposed to make him worry, you were supposed to be his good girl. You didn’t want him distracted—you knew he’d been stressed about the increased Clicker sightings and you didn’t want to add more to the burden he was already carrying.

And so you stayed silent about it. You smiled at him and sent him on his way, and finally, finally when you were alone, you snuggled up back in bed.

You were freezing. Even with the thick blankets piled on top of you, you still were shivering, and your stomach ache stayed constant. Even your mind began to fuzz to the point where you didn’t know how long it had been since Joel left. You stopped caring about the need to pretend everything was fine—you just wanted him.

You weren’t in the living room when Joel got back. Normally you’d be there waiting since it was the closest comfy place to the door, so the moment you heard the door open you could run and embrace him in a flurry of kisses.

But you weren’t there.

“Baby?” he called out, shutting the door behind him.

No response.

He frowned and took his shoes off, then shed his thick snow jacket and gloves. Beneath he was just wearing dark-washed jeans and his signature flannel.

In your room, all Joel saw was a lump beneath the thick gray comforter. “Darlin’?” Joel crossed the room and knelt beside the bed. Were you asleep? Did—

“Joel?” Your voice was strained, small. You rolled over and Joel’s stomach sank. Your eyes were hazy, your cheeks slightly flushed. Had you been crying?

“Sweetheart,” he whispered. “What’s wrong?”

He cupped your cheek and your bottom lip quivered for a moment before you burst into tears.

“Oh, baby.” He promptly stood and got into bed with you, pulling you into his arms. You were so much smaller than him, so easy to pick up and hold against him. “I gotcha. Shh,” he soothed.

You cried quietly into his chest as you clung to him while he smoothed back your hair and pressed gentle kisses to your head. His words were soft murmurs.

“It’s okay darlin’, I’m here now. S’alright….deep breaths sweetheart, can you do that for me? Can you—oh, good girl. That’s it, just keep taking deep breaths for me…”

Eventually your sobs quieted, though a tear still fell down your cheek every now and then. After a few more minutes of holding you, Joel spoke again.

“What’s wrong, honey?” he prompted. “Can you tell me what happened?”

You sniffled. “Just….” Your brow creased. “Jus’ don’t feel good.”

Joel hummed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Didn’t want you to worry.” Your bottom lip trembled. “I didn’t want—“

“Hey, don’t start again,” he cooed softly, wiping away your tears with his thumb. “You don’t ever have to think that ever again, you hear? I like worrying about you. You’re my baby, ‘s my job to take care of you.”

He saw your reaction to that—lips parting, brows relaxing, eyes going a little doe like.

“You like hearin’ me say that?” he murmured, thumb gently caressing your cheekbone, catching another stray tear. “Like that I take care of you?”

You nodded, eyes big and wide.

Joel kissed your forehead. “You need me to distract you a little bit baby? Make all the bad feelings go away for awhile?”

“Mhmm.” Your little voice was breathless.

Joel chuckled. “Alright honey. You just keep laying there n’ lookin’ pretty—don’t gotta do any of the work.”

Your head had been fuzzy before because of the sickness, but it was nothing compared to now. When Joel talked to you like this, held you like this…it made everything around him grow foggy.

He slid his hand beneath the waistband of your sweatpants and his index finger started to tease your bud over your panties. You squirmed.

“Wigglin’ already baby? I haven’t even done anything yet.” You could hear the smile in Joel’s voice.

His fingers slid past your underwear to dip into your wetness. You whined and tucked your face into the crook of his neck, embarrassed at how slippery you were already.

Joel chuckled and held you tighter. “It’s okay, sweet girl. Nothing wrong with bein’ ready.”

You whimpered as his fingers circled the outside of your entrance. You shook your head at his teasing. “Want your cock,” you whined so sweetly in his ear. “I can take it, promise….just want you to make it all better.”

“Awe baby,” Joel crooned, pressing another kiss to your hair. “Okay. Just give me a sec…”

He shifted to pull down his pants and boxers and toss them to the side. He was already hard against your hip. Laying side-by-side, your chest to his, Joel slid his length past your folds.

Oh….you could have sworn you forgot about your aches and pains right in that moment. He made you feel so full. He was so big, so thick and warm….you could feel him all the way up in your tummy.

Joel let out a sigh that bordered on a groan. “You’re so perfect, sweetheart. So good…”

He started to rock his hips gently and you whimpered, burying your face into his chest.

He chuckled. “So shy, baby. That’s okay, you just sit there…don’t gotta worry about a single thing.”

One of your legs hooked over his hip as his pace sped up and you clung to him the whole way through. You felt so…so…oh, you feel him dragging along your walls so nicely. You were absolute putty in his arms—Joel always made you feel that way, always gave you such big feelings it made you feel too small to hold them all.

“So good, baby,” he cooed. “Such a good girl, taking me so well…just lay there and let me fill you up—oh, you’re so tight around me princess…”

You could feel it then, that big feeling. The one that made you whimper and whine, trying to hide your face more than it already was. “Joel…”

“It’s okay, just let it happen.” His pelvis was rubbing against your bundle of nerves oh so nicely it made you dizzy. “Let me feel you finish on my cock, darlin’, you’re so good for me, so good…”

Every coo and murmur only brought you higher. You let out another high-pitched whine as the feeling started to become too much, too tight too hot too everything, oh you were right there, you…

You cried out as you reached your peak and then fell over the edge. Joel held you the whole way through as you clenched around him and he spilled inside of you, murmuring praises the whole time.

“Good girl, good girl….my pretty baby, you’re doing so well, taking my cock in that pretty pussy of yours….that’s it sweetheart…”

He rocked his hips gently to help bring you down from your high, slowly decreasing his pace until he came to an eventual stop.

He held you in his arms, your body against his. You hummed contentedly and nuzzled at his neck.

Joel smiled. “Feel better, sweet girl?”

“Mmm.”

Joel chuckled. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He kissed your forehead. “Why don’t we get in the bath for a bit to clean up, and then I’ll make you some soup? Nothing that will be too harsh on your stomach.”

You blinked drowsily and nodded. “Mhmm. I’d like that.”

Yes, you’d like that very much indeed.

[hotties4gojo]

ooh any hcs on how jjk characters would propose? or hell, even the wedding? feel like gojo would either give you the sweetest, most heartfelt proposal ever or the most goofy ass, public one that’ll embarrass you for life.  

and p.s. any fanfic recs? ^-^

oooh this is so cute 😭😭 ok I focused mostly on proposals but I added tiny bits about weddings and honeymoons too ^_^ tried my best to make all of these uniqueeee and I yapped a lot LMAO

and hmmm fic recs fic recs… I’ll make that a separate post for fic recs soon cos I have looots :3 expect that next week or so

characters: satoru gojo, suguru geto, toji fushiguro, choso kamo, shoko ieiri, yuki tsukumo

satoru gojo:

• okay this is mostly a joke but he’s absolutely the type to take you out to a nice, expensive dinner, and when they walk outside, satoru remarks on the sky. obviously you look up— and nearly shit yourself when you see that every single billboard in the city has ‘will you marry me?’ splashed on it

• that aside… I feel like there’s many options for him but I’m really set on 2 proposal ideas for him

• the first being, again, a super nice dinner. the two of you spend the whole day out together doing everything and anything, then you end the night with dinner at one of the most high class restaurants in japan. satoru reserves the entire top floor so that it’s just the two of you dining together

• he either drops the ring into your glass (and laughs when you almost choke on it) or has the waiter set the ring up alongside the dessert that the two of you order

• not saying this would be the exact dessert cos this is just an example but satoru’d either place the ring in the middle of the chocolate heart or on one of the petals so that it takes you a minute to realize that there’s a fatass ring in front of you

• satoru peppers in a few humorous comments in his speech but it’s extremelyyyy sweet. and to top it all off, fireworks go off outside. since you’re at the highest point of the restaurant you’re practically eye level with them. satoru just dreamily stares at you the entire time

• the second option is that satoru sends you on some sort of scavenger hunt where his students past and present can be included in the proposal

• you go to each location (where they first met, had their first date, etc.) and at each place one of his students is there to walk with you and give you the hint for the next location

• megumi’s with you for the last one and he guides you to where satoru is waiting with flowers or some sort of display. all the rest of his students arrive for this and, if asked, nobara will vehemently deny that she cried when you jumped into satoru’s arms and said yes

• practically everyone and their mother comes to their super flashy wedding. satoru sends a very cheeky message to the higher-ups and gojo clan elders saying that he’ll be gone for 2-3 weeks having freak nasty sex on every surface of the resort bedroom that they’ll be staying in for their honeymoon

other characters under the cut!!

suguru geto:

• imo there’s also 2 options for suguru

• option 1 is on vacation. the day he picks is about halfway through a trip that you’re already on. he considered doing it the day they arrived but ultimately decided that it’d be best to do it a few days in

• it starts with suguru waking you up with breakfast (that he made himself) in bed. I’m thinking they rent a beach house or some other vacation home instead of a staying at a hotel/resort. it’s much more personal, intimate, and private

• they’ve been following a semi strict itinerary for the trip but today is the one day that there’s no destination that’s set in stone. suguru lets you choose what they do for the day and he’s more than happy to be dragged along to wherever you wanna go. he focuses on catering to you and showering you in affection

• seeing you in your element, having fun without a care in the world, and giving him that pretty smile of yours is suguru’s personal fuel. you’re his person inside and out and he loves every bit of you. this day just further proves that he really and truly wants to spend the rest of his life with you

• the two of you head back to wherever you’re staying for the vacation with plans to watch the sunset. suguru slyly lingers behind after they dress down a bit and you go running out so that he can set up flower petals, glasses of champagne, etc. in their room

• heads out to join you and they chat as they watch the sun fall beneath the horizon. that’s when suguru proposes to you with the most achingly heartfelt speech evaaaa (and i know he has the BEST proposal form my gawd). they go back inside— you’re delighted and surprised by his romantic setup— and spend the rest of the evening together

• option 2 has nanako and mimiko involved, cultleader!suguru or otherwise. whichever timeline or au you wish. there’s 1739182 ways suguru could include them when it comes to the proposal and I can’t decide on one LMAO

• regardless of which option, the wedding is a very private affair with all their family and loved ones. probably a beach wedding (okinawa) honestly. their honeymoon is somewhere overseas

toji fushiguro:

• he proposes with a fake scratch off like this IM KIDDINGGGGGGG

• back to being serious. toji’s a real private person so there’s no fawking way it’ll be some public thing or gigantic grand gesture

• he wants it to be intimate and personal. although some people could consider this ‘unromantic’ or ‘not grand’ enough, he’s defo the type to do a home proposal

• which #i think is very sweet and cute

• toji lets you have reign of the first half of the day; not out of laziness, but because like suguru, he wants to do what YOU want to do. stay at home? cool, he’s down to relax with you. go out somewhere? can do, he’s already putting his shoes on. but the second half of the day is all orchestrated by him

• I’ve said this before but toji is definitely a good cook but hates the process, loves the result, and hates the cleanup. howeverrrr he sucks it up for you and does it all. toji cooks while you sit at the counter. he’ll refuse your help entirely— however, if you really insist, he’ll allow it cos cooking side by side with you is fun and they work well together

• just to switch things up a little and make things special, toji sets up a picnic blanket in their backyard with candles and whatnot. the two of you lounge around on it and feed each other and godddd toji cannot stop staring at you. you’ve always been gorgeous but you’re radiantttt with the light of the stars and the candles in your eyes

• toji proposes before they go back inside. and my god do you enjoy seeing this burly, typically aloof man down on his knee before you and looking up at you with pure adoration. and if he tears up and you see it, he’ll just call you a liar

• wedding would be super casual with not too many guests. howeverrrrr I think toji would go all out on the honeymoon. he’s been saving up for this shit for months and picks somewhere super super nice

choso kamo:

• easily the most heartfelt, tearjerking proposal out of all of them imo. sniffles. and once again I got two options… 😭😭

• I’ll start with the shortest one first. saw this on tiktok likeee a week ago AND WHY DID IT DESTROYMEEEEE this is sooo choso. neither of you know how to ice skate so, months in advance, he starts taking you to a public rink to practice

• they make tons of memories in the process and get super funny/cute pictures and videos of them failing and whatnot. learning something side by side with you is so fun— especially when it’s all for his proposal that you’re obviously unaware of. and the fact that choso puts all this time, dedication, and thought into this is just ughhtkejendms 😭😭

• eventually when it’s Time, choso takes you to a super nice open-air rink. just like in the tiktok, he gets the staff to clear out the ice so that it’s just the two of you. he proposes to you in the middle of the rink and definitely openly cries while giving his speech

• longer ish one and my favorite though is thisss. you, choso, and even yuuji go to your family’s home for a week, whether that’s in japan or overseas. you’re under the impression that it’s a family reunion but little do you know this is all part of choso’s plan

• on one of the days, choso takes you out somewhere close to the house. specifically to that one childhood haunt of yours where you made so many core memories. you recount stories sometimes and it stuck in choso’s memory

• yuuji helps him set up some sort of display. candles, flowers, maybe some gifts— it all covers the area. and your gathered family are all there as well in the background. family is extremely important to both you and choso, and though he ‘technically’ may only have yuuji left, your family is his family too. and all of your relatives have made him feel more than welcome over the years

• again he bawls his eyes out when proposing to you. super adoring speech. yuuji and your family take loads of pictures

• the wedding would be fucking hugeeebrhtkwje both in terms of guests and decorations. choso goes ALLLLL out. and their honeymoon is somewhere where they can explore a lot and be in nature methinks

shoko ieiri:

• with the other characters, you could kind of get a sense that something important was about to go down that day. howeverrrr shoko really throws you for a loop. most of the day is normal; it’s a weekend so they wake up together, lounge around in bed, go get brunch at one of their favorite places, etc etc

• shoko feigns forgetting something at jujutsu high the previous day so the two of you head over there. she leads you to her old dorm room which really, over time, essentially became their dorm. when they were students they were attached at the hip, always hanging out, studying together, and having sleepovers here

• though the dorm room is empty and cleared out, both of you can vividly visualize certain memories. this is the same room they got to know each other more in, laughed themselves sick, shared their first kiss, and more. even though some of the memories are bittersweet cos of what occurred during their student days, they still mean a lot

• while you’re reminiscing shoko fishes a letter out of the otherwise empty bedside drawer and hands it to you. its a letter to you that she’s been composing for weeks now where she essentially details how much you mean to her, all the things they’ve gone through together, and how much she adores you head to toe. she’s always been better at writing these sorts of things instead of speaking them aloud

• once you finish reading it— she wipes your wet eyes and affectionately calls you a softie, her dark brown eyes brimming with warmth— she guides you to one of their old haunts somewhere outside on the campus. you find gojo, nanami, utahime, and ijichi waiting with a few paper lanterns

• you and shoko release some for good fortune, joy, unity etc. and that’s when she proposes. gojo and utahime end up crying their eyes out

• their wedding is lowkey, just family and friends. they have a fall/winter wedding and their honeymoon is spent somewhere with lots of snow… something about that screams shoko idk why. they stay in a cozy lodge

yuki tsukumo:

• for the others I had to think of how they’d propose for a bit but I decided on yuki’s 1. Immediately and 2. With absolutely zero hesitation

• obviously the two of you travel a lot and explore the world. at this point it’s like where have the two of you Not gone. and of course this means you and yuki are very active people

• yuki takes you out for the day. they explore, maybe check out a festival or two, go shopping… they go wherever their feet and her harley lead them. the day is super exciting and fun, and yuki buys you absolutely everything that you want

• towards sunset the two of you go hiking somewhere. yuki’s extra ramped up, excitedly telling you to hurryhurryhurry. you’re more out of breath from giggling at her than due to the exertion of the hike

• they reach a very nice viewpoint where they can watch the sunset and that’s when you see it. yuki roped choso, shoko, and gojo into setting up something like this setup from love island ⬇️

• hanging from the tree are fairy lights, countless photos that you and yuki have taken on their travels over the years, sweet notes from yuki herself along with many from their family and friends… SO FAWKING MEANINGFULLLLL

• she proposes beneath the tree. the two of you love each other to death and have done practically everything together, and there’s no one else that yuki would rather spend her life with. you’re her travel partner and life partner. you’re it for her

• large wedding with lavish decorations and tons of guests. yuki definitely throws some wedding games/activities into the mix. their honeymoon is somewhere tropical 🙂‍↕️

[feroluce]

I've been yapping at a new friend a lot lately about Boothill & Rappa; she described them as "sidekicks in chaos" and! Yes! Finally!Someone else gets it! They're SO cute and so sweet, I adore them. They speak so highly about each other and they have a lot of respect between them! I love them being friends!

With the way Rappa calls him Lord (vs Ninja for everyone else) and how much she openly admires and mimics him, I'd like to think Boothill was the one that showed her the ropes when she was first brought into the Galaxy Rangers. Mentor/mentee and teacher/student are too strong of labels for how I see them, though.

Rappa and Boothill are like a college senior taking the new little freshman under their wing. Or the much older and more experienced coworker trying to look out for the fresh-faced little newbie who's just entering the workforce.

As for how they met and became friends in the first place, I like to imagine it was a case of Boothill's soft heart and being unable to turn a blind eye to things. ☆

Like Boothill wasn't on the mission where the Galaxy Rangers found Rappa, he was off on his own Hunt at the time. But given that the Galaxy Rangers have a leader (La Mancha) and they do seem to have some kind of organized efforts, I wonder if there's any kind of secret hq, or at least certain places where they tend to congregate, like how the Masked Fools have their taverns. Anyway.

Boothill maybe sees Rappa for the first time at one of these hqs (he came back when he heard there'd been a major breakthrough with Dr. Primitive). Or he maybe just happens to run into that Galaxy Ranger from 2.6 that initially found her, who then just. Wasn't really sure what to do with her after the raid. Boothill walks in all these Rangers sitting around like "well now what" because none of them actually expected Rappa to survive the memetic virus. Honestly, her brain should have fried.

Either way, Boothill comes across her by total coincidence. But I think he'd have a lot of sympathy for her because like. Aeragan-Epharshel had been an uncontacted planet before the IPC came around. And since they were there to fuck the place up, they definitely didn't expose the natives to the rest of the cosmos. To say that Boothill "left" the planet is a massive underestimation- he didn't just leave, he escaped. And when he got out, he was completely alone, with very little idea how the rest of the world worked or how to get by.

And right now, Rappa is much the same.

She doesn't know anything beyond the lab she was held captive in all her life. There's no way they would have allowed her to learn that kind of stuff, and I'm sure Kucha wouldn't have told her out of kindness. It would be cruel to taunt her with things she couldn't have.

So someone needs to teach her The Ways of the World! It's just a matter of deciding who.

Boothill: ...What're you morons doing.

The Rangers, in the middle of a very intense rock-paper-scissors tournament:

And Boothill likes these people. He really does! ...Ok, except that one guy. He's kind of a prick. But the rest of them are at least mostly decent! But he wouldn't trust them to keep a pool, let alone a whole human being. If he lets this girl go with any of these dumbasses, there's no way she'll make it. So Boothill smacks them around a bit and announces fine, he'll show the new girl how to be a Galaxy Ranger! If any of them have a problem with this, feel free to make complaints to his revolver ☆

Rappa watches all this go down with stars in her eyes, because Boothill is just like the heroes in her manga! Wow! So cool!

(When it came time to actually leave though, Rappa made some sad eyes at the Ranger from 2.6 that actually found her- for better or worse, she got a little attached. The Ranger told her to go on! Go! Just get out of here!

It's very important to imagine this like a movie where the kid frees the wild animal they bonded with skhzksksjk)

Afterwards, Boothill does actually take Rappa aside and ask if she even wants to be a Ranger. If she doesn't, it's fine. The Galaxy Rangers do a lot of charity work, and everyone knows someone who knows someone who knows someone. They'll find somebody that can help her figure things out and get settled. She can have an actual life now.

Rappa gives a passionate speech (that Boothill catches about 50% of sdlkfjasdl) about how she wants nothing more. She'd wanted it before she even knew the name for it. This was what she'd dreamed of, laying across the bed in Kucha's room, reading through his manga collection for the nth time.

Kucha isn't with her anymore. He'd died just to get her out of there. But she can take the opportunity he gave her and make the most of it. She can still keep her dream alive.

So yes, Rappa wants to be a Ninja Hero. Please teach her!

(Boothill: Bein' a Galaxy Ranger ain't easy shirt. Ya gotta be able to hold yer own in a fight. Can ya even do that?

And then Rappa fucking suplexed him and Boothill was like ok so the first parta bein' a Galaxy Ranger is- JSJJSJDKSK)

They're mentioned together so much outside of the main game, too. So I'd like to think even after Boothill passed on to Rappa all the street smarts he could, they still remained pretty friendly, and make the time and effort to meet up whenever they pass nearby. They just ended up getting along so well!

Like no, they don't see each other very often. They're each on their own separate Hunt. Galaxy Rangers still largely work alone. But they're the kind of buddies that can still happily greet each other the same even after months of not speaking. ♡

(Clutching my heart imagining Boothill telling Rappa she is now a full-fledged Ninja Hero, and she is now strong enough to make her solo journey! But he does give her his phone number. And he tells her that if she's in trouble- like real, real bad trouble- call him. Call him and he'll come runnin', to any corner of the galaxy, ok?)

[radiantmists]

For @charles-rowland-week Day 3: Bag of Tricks Backpack!

I have a lot of thoughts about the backpack (I love a bag of holding) so here's one scene from what will hopefully be a whole fic someday, set at some point before Charles has quite figured the bag out.

***

"I do wish you wouldn't do that in the office," Edwin says from his seat at the desk. He's been reading the same book for more than a day now, some thick alchemy tome that's apparently fascinating enough to hold his interest despite being written using Linear B, which even Edwin finds challenging.

Charles, setting the sparkly rock he's just pulled out of his backpack next to the pair of sunglasses and ornately painted saltshaker that had preceded it, grins up at him.

"You don't want me to bring the bag on cases, now you don't want me to mess with it in the office," he says. "Where am I meant to practice, on the roof?"

"I didn't want you to bring it on cases because I worried you would put case-relevant materials in by accident and not be able to retrieve them in time," Edwin replies primly. "Now that that ship has rather dramatically sailed, I don't want you to use it here because I worry that you will retrieve certain case-relevant materials."

"I told you, I'm pretty sure it ate the demon bats," Charles says. "I mean, digested and all. We're never gonna see them again."

He's only mostly joking about that. Nothing he did should have given the bag the ability to digest magical creatures, but he's got the strong feeling that it has a sense of humor, and if it can develop one of those on it's own, a stomach isn't much of a stretch, is it?

"For all your insistence on that point, you're very willing to put your arm inside of it," Edwin says, not sounding particularly concerned. "Do you not worry that it will gain a taste for ghost, next?"

"Mate," Charles gasps theatrically, "our backpack would never."

"That abomination is entirely yours, as far as I'm concerned."

This is somewhat fair, considering that the bag probably wouldn't have the audacity to withhold Edwin's books if he'd been the one to enchant it instead of letting Charles do it. However, the comment runs counter to Charles' current strategy: sweet-talking the bag into compliance.

"Don't worry," Charles tells it in a conciliatory tone, "he loves you really."

He glances up at Edwin, expecting a comment about misguided anthropomorphizing or something, but no, he's back to the book.

With a sigh, Charles reaches into the backpack again, focusing on his boomerang. It had been pretty cool, enchanted to return right to your hands when you threw it, even after it hit something. He and Edwin had spent weeks poking at the spell to figure out how to reproduce it for Charles' bat.

But at some point after that, it had occurred to Charles to wonder what would happen if he threw it into the backpack, and, well. Here he was a year later, groping around in the void.

(Chucking random magical objects in was probably not making the backpack's behavior more predictable, but Charles never managed to think about things like that until after he'd followed through on the impulse.)

He'd realized (again, shortly after doing it) that the problem with enchanting a bag to be infinite inside was that it now contained infinite amounts of empty space. It's taken him years just to consistently find something when he reaches in. Now he just has to work out how to find what he's actually looking for.

After a few seconds of grasping blindly, his fingers brush against something. It's small, flat and thin like a piece of paper, but a little sturdier-- maybe one of the cards he'd put in as a test a few months back? He'd been pretty sure the whole deck would stay together, but maybe if something else he put in had bumped it…

As far as he can tell by touch, there's nothing else 'nearby' in the void, so he pulls the object out and finds that it's not a card but a bookmark, one of the celluloid ones that Edwin prefers. It's in the shape of a train car, with a little advert for the rail company on the back; Charles thinks he remembers Edwin saying he used to collect these, as a child.

"Think it's trying to tell you something, mate," Charles says, holding it up for Edwin to see.

"Charles, the bag doesn't have ears," Edwin says, but he does finally look away from the book. He cocks his head as he recognizes the bookmark, expression going thoughtful. "If anything, I would say this is an indication that it's responding to your desires."

"Feel like it would be a bit easier to use if it were doing that," Charles grumbles, and Edwin's mouth quirks a bit.

"I suppose I will take the hint, wherever it originates," he says, rising and coming around the desk to retrieve the bookmark. "I admit I could use a change of scenery."

"Brills," says Charles, climbing to his feet. "Wanna take the bag to the roof and see what happens if I turn it inside out?"

"Absolutely not."

[wonupatootie]

SVT Social Media AU Fic Recsᡣ𐭩 Part III

쉬는 날인데 넌 뭐해 생각 있음 나와 놀래~

Main Recs Masterlist

➣Part I // Part II // Part III

MINORS DNI!!!!!!!

Please like and reblog the fics to show the creators love and support~

Choi Seungcheol

“The Way Back” by @suhnshinehaos

Gn!reader || rapper x actor, angst, fluff, some humour || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･fans reminisce on your relationship with seungcheol

Kwon Soonyoung

“Let Me Hear You Say” by @cherrycheolliesc

Fem!reader || YouTuber au, friends to enemies to lovers, comedy, angst, fluff || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･after not seeing each other for years, Yn is ecstatic when she finds out all of her friends will finally be in the same place at one time. but unfortunately an unwanted situation turns a 12 year friendship into hateful relationship between yn and soonyoung. as things grow sour between them, their group gets tired of it and tries to fix things.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“The Roomie” by @zo-byeol

Fem!reader || roommates au, fluff || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･kwon soonyoung and his friends need a roommate. (y/n) just got evicted. It sounds simple enough, but really, is anything ever simple?

Jeon Wonwoo

“To My Youth” by @viastro

Fem!reader || love alarm inspired au, slice of life, fluff, humour, angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･in a world where everyone finds out who loves them within a 10 meter radius through the app love alarm, confessing your feelings without the use of the app is no longer considered normal. however, you refuse to download it in hopes that you’ll be able to fall in love without being dependent on love alarm.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Back To You” by @seventeensmaus

Fem!reader || brother's best friend, fluff, humour, angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･y/n and mingyu are twins. they are pretty much inseparable along with their childhood friend seungcheol. the three live together in an apartment. y/n has never met mingyu’s friends. that is until one day she finally does and sees someone from her past.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Clueless” by @hanniedream

Coworker au, fluff || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Wonwoo and you are were both oblivious idiots.

Lee Seokmin

“Sunshine and Sunflowers” by @shuastruck

Fem!reader || college au, sort of childhood friends to lovers, fluff, humour, angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･when you entered college, the last thing you expected was to see your childhood friend lee seokmin in a sea of unknown faces. but just as you had expected, he didn't even remember you in the slightest. you didn't blame him; he had moved away in first grade and how many people remembered their best friend from kindergarten? but that didn't stop you from falling for his cute smile and sweet personality, so now you were stuck in love with a boy who barely knew your existence.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“We Have Chemistry” by @seungcy

Fem!reader || college au, slice of life, fluff || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Being a biology major was difficult enough along with juggling an internship at a hospital. So how about adding some cute guys to your internship to spice it up a bit? Can you balance it out?

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“What Is Love?” by @cupidhaos

High school au, cupid au, past life au, fantasy, fluff, angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･seokmin never expected to fall in love with a human - especially one that was supposed to be with somebody else

Chwe Hansol

“Two Minus One” by @twogyuu

Fem!reader || uni/recent college grads au, strangers to lovers, fluff, crack || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･What’s a better way to find love in the modern day than through dating apps? Eight months after his breakup with his long-time girlfriend, Vernon is finally ready for the dating scene once more - or so he thought. Finding the new game of love more challenging than he remembered, he reaches out to you, Chan’s best friend and legendary wing woman, for help.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Lie Again” by @escapewriter

Fem!reader || idol au, soulmate au, fluff, humour, slight angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･a world in which various types of the soulmate system apply, you just so happen to have one that is completely stupid; being able to hear what your soulmate thinks of. however, when your soulmate hums a certain tune, you cant seem to get it out of your head.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“花樣年華 : HYYH : Golden Years” by @sw1mmingfoolz

Fem!reader || college au, eventual roommates, angst, fluff, slowburn || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･when vernon and y/n realise their partners are cheating with each other, they strike up an unlikely friendship trying to figure out how it all began.

Unspecified Endgame

“Feverish Lips” by @sunlightwoo

College au, mafia au, fluff, angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･you’d think that because it’s the first semester of the year, it’d be like the beginning of a roller coaster when its slowly becoming climatic and stressful. however, once you’re at the top of the point you have two choices: scream your lungs or quickly hang onto your life support. sadly in your case, you can either suck it up and get through it, or get involved in its loops in tangles with trouble that is bound to be met within every corner that you turn to.

⤷“Louder Than Bombs” (Part 2 of feverish lips)

College au, mafia au, fluff, angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･the past semester of your senior year was hectic after the winter ball, its events making it harder for you to get back into your old routine. a rollercoaster that you finally managed to get off of for a blink of an eye, when suddenly you’re strapped on once more. you think to yourself that maybe you’ll make it to graduation in May; maybe alive. 

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Here Comes The Sun” by @seokgyuu

Fem!reader || college au, slice of life, angst, comedy, fluff || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･what's supposed to be just another year of fun and games at one of south korea's top universities turns into a rollercoaster of emotions for you. stuck between best friends and former crushes, you try to find love, friends and most importantly yourself.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“A Poem A Day” by @wooahaeproductions

Gn!reader || modern day cyrano!, fluff, romance, angst, comedy || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･When Mingyu literally falls head over heels for someone, he has no idea what to do. What happens when he gets help (and a little meddling) from his friends? it definitely won’t be boring, that’s for sure.

Please let me know if the links have any problems~

[tenasz]

Evermore (Satoru x Reader)

By Taylor Swift

I replay my footsteps on each stepping stone

Trying to find the one where I went wrong

[…]

Can't remember what I used to fight for

I rewind the tape, but all it does is pause

On the very moment all was lost

[…]

And I couldn't be sure, I had a feeling so peculiar

That this pain would be for evermore

When love is tested by neglect and pain, even the strongest bonds can break. After taking his marriage for granted, Satoru is forced to confront the devastating reality of losing you, the woman who remains the center of his world. Caught between regret and the fight for a second chance, he learns that true love demands more than words—it demands choices.

paring: Satoru x Reader

Genre: angst / comfort

Warning: mention of faint

Words: 6,3k

a/n: this is the first fic I’m doing based on Taylor’s songs. it’s a project, so more are to come. Hope you enjoy this one!

You felt that something was coming. It wasn’t an abrupt surprise, but that calm unease that precedes a storm. The kind of stillness that makes the air heavy and the sky seem ready to collapse. It was as if the foundations you both had built together, with so much care and over so much time, were about to crumble under an invisible, relentless force.

Satoru was… distant. It wasn’t just a fleeting distraction or a shadow of exhaustion. It was a growing chasm, something you had never seen before, not in all the days of laughter, promises, and glances that once felt eternal. He was there, but he wasn’t. And that subtle absence was like an invisible knife piercing your chest.

The first thought that consumed your mind, so full of labyrinths and traps that he used to laugh at and lovingly call "worms," was an idea that burned like poison: he was cheating on you. A new love, a fresh passion, someone who had sparked in him a fascination greater than you ever could. The image was so vivid it hurt—him smiling at someone else with that same sparkle in his eyes that was once only yours.

You knew it might just be your mind playing tricks, distorting reality based on your deepest insecurities. But what if it wasn’t? That doubt was an internal earthquake, toppling the walls of what you believed to be unshakable.

The breaking point—the critical moment that caused the glass already filled to the brim to overflow and flood everything around you—came on your wedding anniversary. Not that things had been easy before. The distance between you two had been growing like an inescapable shadow, but you kept trying, stitching the invisible threads that still connected you. Fragile threads, almost frayed, but ones you refused to let break.

That day, you decided to fight against the crushing weight of the circumstances. You left Jujutsu school early that day. You didn’t run into Satoru, but that didn’t faze you because you knew he was away on a mission with his students. He had promised he’d be back in time for dinner. At home, every second was spent striving for perfection: the dress chosen with care, the hours spent making your hair flawless, the makeup that concealed the dark circles from sleepless nights. Everything had to be perfect. You wanted him to notice. Not just the effort, but you—as if, for a moment, you could erase all the indifference that had accumulated between you two.

The plans had been set for over a week. The restaurant was reserved, and you were excited to share a sweet moment with your husband. Everything was planned to create a night that would be just yours, a chance to rekindle what had seemed clouded. Every detail was carefully thought out. You rehearsed the words, the gestures, even the small smiles you’d give during the dinner you had dreamed about for days. You allowed yourself to believe that maybe this was the chance to start over.

That morning, before Satoru left, you made sure to confirm the plans. Your heart pounded heavily in your chest as the words cautiously left your lips, almost fearing the response. It was a timid attempt to remind him—without sounding desperate—that the day was special. He mumbled something vague as he adjusted his uniform. You saw his gaze pass over you, like a cold breeze, without truly landing. That was the first blow, but you smiled. Pretended not to notice the emptiness in the gesture. And when he opened the door to leave, there wasn’t even a kiss, a touch, a warm glance, or a “happy anniversary.” Just a hurried wave, as if you were a static presence in the backdrop of his routine. The silence that lingered after was deafening.

Even so, you tried not to crumble. “He’s just in a rush,” you thought, clinging to hope with trembling fingers. “He wouldn’t forget, right? He couldn’t forget.” But deep down, doubt had already planted its roots. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your body and mind. Later, you called Satoru to ask if everything went well on the mission, if anyone got hurt, if he was already on his way back. But your calls went unanswered. Every attempt went straight to voicemail. Messages were sent in hopes of a response, and when it finally came, the weight of worry lifted from your shoulders. He said he couldn’t answer earlier, but everything was fine, and he’d be home soon. A smile of relief escaped you. He called you “darling.” Such a small thing for people who’ve been together for so long, but in your situation, it was a sip of water in the scorching desert.

When you were finally ready, checking the last details in the mirror, a shy smile appeared on your lips. You looked beautiful. No, stunning. The dress, chosen so carefully, hugged your silhouette perfectly, and the subtle shimmer of your makeup enhanced the hopeful look you could barely hide. Nervously smoothing the fabric with your hands, as if you could dispel the growing anxiety, you grabbed your purse and left the house.

Everything had been planned with love. You chose his favorite restaurant—the very place where he had proposed to you. A special place, full of happy memories, where every corner seemed to whisper stories you had shared. Tonight would be different. It would be a chance to rescue everything that felt faded in recent times.

In the car, soft music played, but you barely noticed it. Your hands sweated on the steering wheel, gripping it tightly, while your eyes kept darting to your phone on the passenger seat. The screen remained dark, with no notifications, no calls. No message from him. With every mile, the silence on his end amplified your unease.

When you arrived at the restaurant, you were greeted with warm smiles. The waitstaff recognized you immediately, welcoming you enthusiastically. They had always been part of those happy moments, witnesses to laughter, toasts, and declarations. They led you to the table you had reserved—the same one where he had knelt, years ago, his eyes shining with love. Seeing the setting, your heart warmed.

It was perfect. Delicately arranged candles illuminated the space with a soft, comforting glow. Flowers adorned the table, exuding a sweet and inviting fragrance. Among the plates and perfectly aligned utensils, there were Polaroids of the two of you, capturing moments of joy that now felt so distant. You picked one up, smiling at the memory of how he used to insist on capturing even the most mundane moments, always saying, “Every second with you is worth keeping.”

Taking a deep breath, you sat down. Your chest was full of hope despite the anxiety, and a small, nervous smile lingered on your face. You waited, sitting there, until he arrived. You waited. And waited. And waited. But he never came.

As the hours passed, the warmth that had once filled the space gave way to an unbearable emptiness. Your phone remained silent. You tried calling him countless times, but the calls went unanswered. Your heart began to pound erratically, not from anticipation, but from worry. Had something happened? He was Satoru Gojo, after all. He had many enemies, though he always claimed none could measure up to him. This was the only plausible explanation in your mind.

The waitstaff’s gazes began to weigh on you. Their smiles had turned sad now, filled with a pity you despised. The ice in your glass had long melted, and the candles were nearly burned out. Your dress, once so comfortable, now felt suffocating, and your jewelry burned against your skin like a cruel reminder of your vulnerability.

And then, just as you finally stood up, ready to end the public humiliation and go home, your phone rang.

It was him.

With trembling hands, you answered. “Satoru? Where are you? Are you okay?” Your voice was shaky but full of hope.

“I’m fine. I got home a while ago, but my phone was on silent. Where are you?”

Those words shattered what was left of your heart, a sad, painful tightness echoing in your chest. He had forgotten. All the hope you had clung to with so much effort dissolved into tears that began to fall uncontrollably. You pulled the phone away, trying to muffle the sound of your sobs, but he heard them.

“S/N? What happened? Are you okay? Where are you?” His voice was filled with concern, but to you, it felt like an ironic blow.

"Now you seem to care, don’t you?"

The words escaped before you could hold them back, your voice laced with disappointment, sadness, and even anger. On the other end of the line, the silence was deafening. He tried to respond, but you cut him off, your pain bursting like a dam that could no longer hold the flood.

"You forgot, you idiot! You forgot what day it is, forgot our plans, and left me here, alone, like a fool!" You practically yelled into the phone, right there in the middle of the restaurant. You could feel the mascara running down your cheeks, mingling with the salty, bitter tears.

His silence was suffocating, but you knew he was still there. Perhaps he was processing your words or trying to come up with an excuse for the inexcusable. You waited for something—anything—that might ease the weight crushing your chest. But for a long moment, all you heard was the muffled sound of your own breathing, broken by sobs.

“S/N…” he began, but the hesitation in his voice felt like a knife twisting in the wound. “I... I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize...”

“Didn’t realize?” you interrupted, your voice firmer now, emboldened by the mixture of sorrow and indignation. “You didn’t realize today was our anniversary? That today was the day I was trying to save... this?” Your hand gestured toward the photos of the two of you, which now felt like daggers to your eyes, as though he could see all the effort you had poured into tonight.

On the other end, he sighed. A heavy sound, as if carrying a burden, but the weight you felt was yours, not his. "S/N, I know I’ve been absent. I know I haven’t been what you deserve. But—"

"But nothing, Satoru!" you shouted, your voice echoing through the empty dining hall. The waitstaff, who had been discreet earlier, now peeked from a distance, trying to appear busy. You felt exposed, like an open wound laid bare for the world to see. “You always have excuses, always have explanations. But what you don’t have is time. Time for us, time for me!”

The line went silent again. In the background, you heard the familiar sound of a door closing. He was moving, perhaps trying to reach you. Perhaps trying to fix things.

“I’m coming there,” he said, his voice steadier now, as if he could resolve everything by simply showing up.

“No.” Your response came quick and sharp, cutting through any possibility. “Don’t come, Satoru. I don’t want your pity. I don’t want you to come because you feel guilty. I wanted you to come because you wanted to be here. But I guess that was asking too much.”

He tried to protest, but you ended the call before he could say more. You stood there, frozen, the phone still in your hand, as silent tears streamed down your face.

You left as quickly as you could, not looking back or speaking to the staff. You were too humiliated to face them. The night wind brushed against your skin, a cruel reminder of the loneliness you now carried. This was the end—not because he had forgotten your anniversary, but because he had forgotten you.

You got into your car, driving aimlessly for a while, until you finally stopped in a place where memories of him couldn’t reach you. For the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to think about what came next. Tears streamed down your face, smudging the makeup you had so carefully applied earlier. The ache in your chest tightened around your heart, leaving you breathless with sorrow. You thought that this pain would be for evermore, an endless weight on your chest.

Parking your car in a random spot on the street, you rested your forehead against the steering wheel. Millions of thoughts raced through your mind now. What would you do next? How would you move on with your life?

Miles away, Satoru rushed into his car, his fingers trembling as he turned the key in the ignition. Between harsh whispers, he cursed himself, the weight of guilt crushing his chest. How could he have been so blind? So careless? The brutal truth that tore at him was simple: he loved you deeply, more than he could ever love anyone else. And yet, he kept hurting you, as if the love he felt wasn’t enough to make him the husband you deserved.

Rain began to patter against the windshield, each drop intensifying the storm within him. Satoru gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white, as the lump in his throat felt impossible to swallow. He thought of the smile you used to wear so easily, the sparkle in your eyes that now seemed dimmed. He knew it was his fault. He had extinguished that light with his absence, with the words he never said, with the promises he broke.

“I’m a disaster,” he muttered, his voice hoarse with frustration. The words felt insignificant compared to the enormity of what he felt. He wanted to turn back time, to return to the day everything started falling apart and do it all differently. Maybe then you wouldn’t have to carry the weight of a marriage he had let slip through his fingers. The truth that tormented him was this: he was losing you. And for the first time, the fear of losing you felt more real than ever.

When he finally arrived at the restaurant, he stumbled out of the car, ignoring the heavy rain soaking his clothes and streaming down his face. He burst through the front door like a whirlwind, only to be greeted by a desolate sight: the staff dismantling the decorations with methodical movements, erasing the traces of what should have been a special night. Each deflated balloon, each removed flower, was a blow that tightened the knot in his chest.

His eyes were drawn to the photos of the two of you—memories of happier times when he was still the man you deserved. With trembling fingers, he picked up one of the Polaroids, almost forgotten. It was a picture of the two of you smiling, your eyes shining in harmony. Now, it felt like an image of something unreachable, an echo of everything he had destroyed.

Melancholy turned to desperation, and the guilt that gnawed at his chest erupted in a moment of impotent rage. The sharp sound of his fist hitting the table echoed through the empty hall, making the few staff members present exchange uneasy glances. They had seen you wait; they had witnessed your disappointment, your humiliation.

Satoru met their gazes, and the weight of shame hit him like a tidal wave. The thought of you sitting there, alone, believing he would come, waiting for a gesture that never arrived… It was unbearable. He hated himself. Hated the man he had become, the man who had put you through all of this.

His shoulders slumped, as if the rain outside was now falling inside him, flooding his heart. He wanted to fix it. He wanted redemption, he needed it.

Back to your fragile and shaken figure, you drove the car to the house you once called home. But, at that moment, this house no longer felt like yours. It wouldn't be yours anymore, because you had already decided: you were ready to leave.

As you got out of the car, the heavy rain kept falling, mixing with the tears that seemed endless. Every step you took toward the building was another nail in the coffin of the love you once believed would last forever. You entered the shared apartment, silently hoping he wasn’t there. And, for the first time in a long while, the universe seemed to grant your plea: he really wasn’t. You walked, wet and trembling, to the room that once held so many happy moments. But now, it was just a shadow of what it had been. You began to pack a suitcase in haste, awkwardly, only putting the essentials. There was no space to think about everything. You planned to return another day, maybe when he wasn't there, to grab the rest. The only thing that mattered at that moment was leaving. You couldn't bear the weight of a home so devoid of love, so cold. It was time to move on, even if it meant destroying what little was left of you.

Your body felt heavy, your mind clouded. Your vision was blurred, distorted by the tears that wouldn't stop falling. Your ears only caught a distant hum, as if a sad melody played in the back of your mind, preventing any connection with the world around you. The rain soaking your clothes made you shiver, but the external cold was nothing compared to the ice in your chest.

You were so absorbed in the task of filling the suitcase that you didn’t even notice the sound of the apartment door opening and closing. It was as if your body had shut down, operating on autopilot. It wasn’t until the door to the bedroom, which had been slightly ajar, slammed open that you realized you weren’t alone anymore.

And there he was. Satoru. Your husband, your love. He looked as devastated as you, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. His eyes were wide, locked on you as if he had found something he feared he had lost forever. There was relief in them, but also something deeper: pain, regret, and despair. He was there, but did it still mean anything?

Satoru stood still for a moment, as if his body didn’t know how to move forward. His chest rose and fell with shallow, irregular breaths, and the weight of what was happening seemed to crush his shoulders. The knot in his throat was so tight that it made it hard to breathe. He wanted to speak, but the words seemed trapped, suffocated by the whirlwind of emotions tearing him apart inside.

When he finally found the strength, he took a step forward, the sight of the half-open suitcase burning in his mind like a sign of everything he was about to lose.

“Are you… leaving?” he managed to murmur, his voice soft but trembling. There was fear in every syllable, a fear he rarely admitted to feeling, but now it overflowed.

You didn’t answer, just kept your hands busy, as if he weren’t there. But the silence was louder than any word. It was the silence of someone who had already given up. He ran a hand through his hair, wet from the rain, and closed his eyes for a brief moment. The weight of guilt pressed on his chest like physical pain, something deep and unrelenting. He felt as though he were drowning, unable to escape the ocean of regret that surrounded him.

“I know… I know I was wrong.” His voice was firmer this time, but broken at the edges, as if each word was tearing him apart inside. “But please, listen to me.”

You paused for a moment, but didn’t look at him, and he continued, the urgency blending with the pain in each word.

“I… I love you. More than anything in this world. I know it doesn’t seem like it, I know I didn’t show it. But it’s true.” He swallowed hard, the knot in his throat making it even harder. “I let work consume me. I let the pressure turn me into someone you don’t recognize, and that was unforgivable.”

He took another hesitant step, fearing you would pull away even further. His fists were clenched by his sides, as if he were trying to hold himself together. His eyes were misty, but he didn’t blink, staring at you as if his life depended on it.

“But you… you mean everything to me. I know I disappointed you. I know I made you feel alone, invisible. And I hate that. I hate what I did.” He took a deep breath, but the air seemed to not fill his lungs. “I swear I can be better. I need to be better. For you. For us.”

You finally looked at him, but your gaze was filled with pain, and it hurt him even more. It was as if every second that passed made the distance between you seem even greater. Satoru fought the urge to reach out and wipe away your tears, to hold you and beg for your forgiveness, but surely, you wouldn’t want to share the same square meter with him, let alone let him touch you. That thought squeezed his chest.

— Please, don’t leave me. — His voice trembled, desperation dripping from each word. — Listen to me, I...

You interrupted him after staring at him for a long moment, your hands still in the middle of packing the bag. His words echoed in your mind, but you couldn’t break through the wall of pain you had been building for so long. Something inside you shattered, like a dam incapable of holding back the wave of repressed emotions anymore.

"Listen to you? "Your voice came out low, hoarse, but laden with latent anger. "Listen to you, Satoru? Now? After everything?"

He opened his mouth, trying to say something, but you raised a hand to stop him.

"No. You’re going to listen to me now. Because I’m done. I spent months trying to reach you, trying to find the man I loved, but you were always so… busy. Always with an excuse. Always with something more important than me." Your voice grew louder, each word coming out like a bullet, ready to kill anyone in front of it. "Do you know what it’s like to wait? To wait for someone who should be by your side? To wait for him to see you? For him to choose you?" He lowered his head, as if your words had physical weight, piercing him. His chest rose and fell more forcefully, the knot in his throat tightening with every sentence you spoke.

"I loved you, Satoru. I still love you, and that’s the worst part. Because I keep loving you while you destroy me. While you make me feel small, invisible!" Your voice trembled, and the tears you had been holding back overflowed. "I blamed myself for so long, thinking it was my fault, that I wasn’t good enough. But you know what I realized? The problem isn’t me. It’s you. It’s your inability to see beyond yourself, to realize what you’re losing while you’re so busy with... with everything but me."

Satoru felt something break inside him. Every word of yours was a direct blow to his heart, leaving him more vulnerable than he had ever been. The guilt burned like fire in his chest, and he struggled to find what to say, but nothing seemed enough. He knew you were right, and that tore him apart even more.

"You say you love me, but love isn’t this, Satoru. Love isn’t forgetting such an important date for us... Love isn’t making her feel alone in a marriage. " You swallowed hard, the tears now mixed with the rain still running down your face. "Love is being there. It’s caring. And you failed. You failed me."

He stumbled, as if your words had hit him hard. His eyes were watery, his chest tight to the point of pain. He tasted the bitter shame and helplessness as the tears finally escaped.

"I know... " He murmured, his voice barely audible. "I know I failed. But I can change. I will change. Please..."

"It’s not that simple, Satoru! " You shouted, the anger finally overflowing. "Do you think that just saying 'I’ll change' will fix everything? No, that’s not how it works. You broke me. You broke us. And I... I don’t know if I can keep fixing something you seem so willing to destroy.

He fell into silence, his hands trembling at his sides. Her words reverberated in his mind, each one heavier than the last. He wanted to speak, to beg, but the pain in his eyes kept him paralyzed. All he could do was watch, helpless, as the woman he loved poured out all the truths he feared to face.

"I deserve more than this, Satoru." Your voice was now lower, but still filled with devastating sadness. "I deserve more than waiting for you. More than being treated like an option. And I don’t know if you’re capable of giving me that."

The silence that followed was absolute, only broken by the sound of the rain outside. Satoru felt the weight of truth in her words, like a final sentence. He realized that, for the first time, she wasn’t just hurt. She was tired. And that terrified him more than anything.

Satoru opened his mouth to speak, his heart beating irregularly as he struggled to organize his thoughts. He needed to tell the truth, needed to expose what he had always hidden, even from himself. It was now or never.

"You’re the only good thing I’ve ever had," he started, his voice hoarse, but sincere, his chest tight as the words finally escaped. "I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but please, know that every time I failed, every time I hurt you, I hated myself for it.'

You looked at him with tear-filled eyes, but didn’t respond. Your breath was heavy, your shoulders tense, as if the weight of everything was too much to bear.

"I love you, " he continued, the urgency in his voice growing. " Not because I need you, but because you’re everything. You’re my home, my peace, my reason. And I was a fool for not showing you that, for not making you feel that."

He took a hesitant step toward you, as if afraid to break the fragile space between you. But before he could say anything else, something happened.

Your body, so overloaded with anger, pain, and exhaustion, showed signs it couldn’t take it anymore. Your breath became more irregular, and you felt a sudden vertigo. The world around you seemed to spin, the voices, the light in the room, everything started to fade.

" I..." You tried to speak, but the words died on your lips.

And then, you collapsed.

Satoru reacted with primal instinct, catching you before your body hit the ground.

"Hey! Hey! " He shouted, his voice overflowing with panic. His arms wrapped around your fallen body, his head lowering as he looked at your face. Your skin was cold, as cold as the rain still dripping from your clothes. "No... No! Stay with me!"

He pressed his forehead against yours, and then, with trembling fingers, checked your pulse. You were there, but so fragile, so still, it felt like you were slipping through his fingers.

"You’re cold... " He whispered, almost to himself, as panic rose. He could barely think, each thought racing ahead of the other. The guilt crushed him, the fear destroyed him. How didn’t he notice before? How did he let you get to this point?

Holding you tightly, he stood up, almost stumbling as he rushed to the door. He felt your weight so light, as if you had no strength to exist at that moment. He opened the car door with a pull, carefully adjusting you in the passenger seat. His fingers trembled as he fastened the seatbelt around your unconscious body. His eyes couldn't leave your face, so pale, so sad, and so terrifyingly empty.

On the way to the hospital, his hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. He drove fast, ignoring the red lights and the sounds of honking horns around him. His thoughts were a whirlwind of fear and guilt.

"Why didn’t I notice?" He muttered to himself, his voice broken. "How did I let you get to this point?"

He looked at you for a moment, his eyes filling with tears. Your breath was so weak, and your skin so cold… He couldn't think clearly, but the worst thought consumed him. He couldn't lose you. Not just as his wife, but as the person who gave meaning to his life.

"Please, hang in there." His voice faltered, a hoarse whisper that barely made it over the sound of the engine. Satoru's warm fingers brushed against your cold, pale ones. "I need you. Don’t leave me... Please, don’t leave me."

At the hospital, he never left your side. His hands held yours, his heart heavy as he watched the doctors tend to you. Every second felt like an eternity, each beat of his heart a punishment.

"Please," he whispered, looking at you, so still in the bed. "I would do anything for you. Anything."

He gripped your hand tighter, feeling the tears roll down his face. The lump in his throat returned, but he didn’t care anymore.

"I know I hurt you. I know I failed as your husband, as the person who promised to love you above everything else. But I won’t lose you. I can’t. I’ll be better, I promise. Not for me. Not to save this. But because you deserve it. You deserve everything."

Your breathing was more stable now, but he still felt the fear. A deep, visceral fear that, even if you woke up, it might be too late to fix everything.

He closed his eyes, his forehead resting against your hand. And for the first time, he prayed. Not to a specific god, but to any force that could hear him, begging for a second chance.

After a few hours, your body stirred, your eyes slowly opening and trying to adjust to the light of the unfamiliar surroundings. Satoru, who had been by your side, quickly lifted his head, his hand still holding yours.

"Hey, how do you feel?" Her mind barely registered his words, but you felt his warm hand gently cradle the side of your face.

"What... what happened?" you asked, dazed, your vision and hearing slowly coming back into focus. He then explained what had happened, and you understood why you were in such an unfamiliar place.

"Do you feel better?" Satoru asked again, and the question hammered in your head. You now remembered the argument before your collapse and why you were so exhausted and drained that your body couldn’t hold itself up. You just looked at him before turning your gaze away and pulling your hand from his.

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment as if gathering courage to let out everything that had been trapped in his heart. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and raspy.

"I know I don’t have the right to ask for anything, but please, listen to me just this time. I need you to know… everything I should have said before but never could."

He held her hand gently, as if afraid to hurt her, his eyes full of tears he didn’t try to hide.

"I know I hurt you. I know I failed you in every possible way. I was so wrapped up in my own world, so blind, that I didn’t see I was losing the only person who had always been by my side. You. The only one who truly saw me, who loved me despite all my flaws."

His voice trembled, a knot tightening in his throat, but his words were filled with such intense love that it seemed to fill the entire room.

"You are everything to me. And I’m not saying this in a trivial way. It’s the purest truth inside me. You are my home, my peace, my strength. But I left you alone, I made you feel like you weren’t enough, when in reality, you’re more than I ever deserved."

He tilted his head, his eyes fixed on her face, searching for any sign that she was listening. You heard his words calmly, your heart pounding in your chest.

"I’ve spent my life thinking I needed to be strong, that I needed to carry everything alone. But you... you showed me that being strong isn’t about carrying the weight by myself. It’s about trusting. It’s about sharing. And I failed at that with you."

He took a deep breath, and his voice grew even softer, almost a whisper.

"I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you. If you give me another chance, I will spend every day of the rest of my life showing you how loved you are. I will be the man you deserve, even if it takes a lifetime to prove."

A tear fell, running down his face. He lowered his forehead to rest gently on her hand, feeling her skin now warmer against his.

"Please, stay with me. Not because I need you, but because I want to be worthy of you. I want us to have the future you dreamed of, the future you deserve. And, if you decide that it's enough, I will understand. But you need to know... I will love you forever, even if that means letting you go."

He closed his eyes, allowing himself to feel the weight of the silence that followed, while the sound of the machines in the hospital filled the emptiness of the room. You stared at him for a long moment, and though your eyes were tired, they didn’t hide the pain.

"Your words are beautiful, Satoru." Your voice was low, but carried the weight of everything you felt. "But where were they when I needed them? Where were they when I felt alone, even though I was by your side?"

He lowered his head, pressing his lips together. It was a deserved pain, but still hard to bear.

"I know..." He took a deep breath, struggling against the lump in his throat. "I know I failed you. And I’d give anything to go back and do things differently. But I can’t. All I can do now is ask you for a chance to fix what I broke."

You looked away, tears silently streaming down your face.

"I loved you so much, Satoru. More than you can imagine. But loving you... it became so heavy. And I started fading in the process."

He felt the impact of your words like a knife to the chest, but he didn’t pull away. He knew he needed to hear everything, every pain, every hurt, to fully understand what you carried.

"I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness." His voice faltered, but he continued. "But please, let me try. Let me show you that I can be the man you deserve. Not with promises. With actions. With every choice I make from now on."

You closed your eyes, exhausted, but his words reached you in a way you hadn’t expected. You wanted to believe him, but you knew it wouldn’t be easy.

"I still love you, Satoru." The confession came out in a whisper, and he widened his eyes, almost in disbelief. "But I don’t know if that’s enough now."

He held your hand more firmly, his eyes locked on yours.

"It doesn’t have to be enough now. Just let me start. Just give me the chance to prove that you’ll never carry this alone again."

You looked at him, and for several minutes in silence, you pondered. You loved him so much, and had been so hurt by his neglect, but in all these years together, this was the first time you saw him so desperate. A feeling that maybe things could be different from here on out poked at your mind. There was a small spark of hope.

"If I stay, Satoru, it has to be different." Your voice finally broke the silence. "I can’t go through this again."

He nodded vigorously, the tears now freely streaming down his face.

"I know. And I will be different. You don’t have to believe me now, but I’ll show you. Every day. For the rest of my life."

You sighed, the emotional and physical exhaustion weighing heavily on your shoulders.

"You have one last chance, Satoru. Don’t make me regret it."

He lowered his head, pressing his lips reverently against your hand.

"I won’t. I swear on everything I am."

And so, even amidst the scars, a new promise was made. A promise he knew would take a lifetime to fulfill, and he did. He loved you every day, showing his affection, admiration, and tenderness every day you stayed by his side.

And you couldn’t be sure, but you had this feeling so peculiar that the pain you felt that day wouldn’t be for evermore

[nottivagos]

HELLOOO!! Welcome Notti's "Not So Innocent" Notebook where I write some filth to make your Thursday a little bit better <3 || 18+ mdni pls and ty

Rockstar!Daniel Ricciardo who gets a little jealous at a rumour that his lovely Popstar!Reader is cheating on him, then alleviates the stress with... an amp?!

an: NESSA BARRETT. this is all your fault. going into this fic, i thought "hey, let me listen to nessa barrett for a bit, pornstar is a pretty good song!" THEN I FOUND S.L.U.T.?! im sorry but it just SCREAMED this idea.

Daniel was sick and tired of this bullshit. He knew he'd taken a risk by dating a popstar, but he was able to overcome the knowledge that sleazy gossip magazines would be like vultures on him all the time.

Eyes glued to his phone, the grip tightening as he read each headline with growing irritation. You'd been allegedly sleeping with a collaborator featured on your latest album, blurry pictures of you two together outside a nightclub ‘disclosed’ and plastered on the front pages.

He shoved his phone into his pocket with an annoyed grunt, ignoring the buzzing notifications from his manager with gritted teeth. Trying to clear his head, he held his guitar in a death grip, attempting to strum— or at least make some noise to distract him from the social media crisis happening.

On the other hand, there was you, basking in the morning of a new found freedom after a hard slog to produce your own music for the past 5 months. You hadn't had a morning to laze about for a while, and you knew that Danny would be busy trying to compose something, so you made your way to his little home studio.

Soft footsteps entered the room, signalling Danny to snap his head up, brown eyes staring like daggers at you. Tossing his guitar back onto its stand, he strode over to you, tense and irked.

“Are you fucking someone else?” his voice was an irritated growl, jaw locking tightly into place as he looked at you with that piercing, dark hazel gaze. “Answer me,” the tone of his voice was dangerous.

“No.” Your voice calm and collected as you replied, swallowing the small, sour lump forming in your throat. “I'm not.”

“Then why the hell is your ass all over those stupid gossip mags, posing you like a cheating whore?” He words bit, each syllable striking like a sharp gash of a knife on your skin, the intensity of his anger suffocating you, silencing you.

“It's just a rumour, Daniel.” The full name flowing bitterly off your tongue twisted the knife deeper, as he gripped your neck, engulfing it with one hand. “Did that hit a nerve?” you jabbed again, “Didn't realise full naming you had such a dramatic effect.” Your poison spoke whilst smirking, as he pinned you firmly against the wall.

Despite the cocky demeanour, you were boiling inside. Adrenaline pumped through your veins in the heated moment, the bubbling heat pooling down, creating a slick heat as Danny's eyes flared with rage.

Hot, ragged breath fanned onto your face, Danny's flushed cheeks radiating anger and pent-up stress. “Do you understand the stress this is bringing me, huh?” He asked, gritting his teeth as he let go of the vice of a grip he had on your throat. “Do you?” barking angrily, lips dangerously close to your own.

“No, Danny, I don't.” a whisper escaped your glossy lips, nose nuzzling closer to his. “Are you angry at me?” the sweetness of your pretty voice drawled off your tongue, plump lips pouting, teasing the distance between you.

An annoyed grunt was your response, chapped lips crashing onto your perfectly kept ones immediately after. Moaning softly into Danny's mouth, his tongue intertwined with yours, your shared saliva mingling together.

A distinct line of saliva connected both of you together, lips pulling away for a brief moment. “You're torture,” he gruffly panted, rage simmering underneath his large, brown eyes, “pure fucking torture.”

Wrapping a firm hand around your wrist, he yanked you across his music studio with a swift tug, treading across the scattered wires and other various equipment. He gave you a firm but gentle shove forward, pushing your chest flush against the amp.

A large hand tangled in your hair, wrapping it tightly into a makeshift ponytail, whilst the other gripped your curved hip, holding you in place. An abrupt tug of your locks made a yelp escape your lips, back arching so your round ass stood high in the air.

Letting go of your hair, fingertips trailed down your spine to the hem of your dress, already riding up your curve, pushing it up to reveal your soaked panties, the cold gush of air against your slick heat causing you to gasp.

Hooking two fingers underneath your underwear, he pulled them down to your ankles. “So fucking wet for me already, huh?” his voice was dark, kneading the bare flesh with his palms.

You bit your lip, suppressing a small gasp, rubbing your thighs together for some friction. Danny, however, had other plans. One hand came in between your legs, splitting them open again.

“Danny—” you were cut off by the harsh crack on your ass, causing you to yelp and your knees to buckle.

“You want to whore around, huh?” He growled into your ear, one hand wrapping around your neck again. “Cause me all this stress,” he muttered as he slapped again, a red handprint revealing on your asscheek, “ruin my reputation. You deserve some kind of punishment for that.”

Whining, your cunt dripped, a few overflowing juices trickling down your thighs onto the amp below. Danny responded with an unamused tut, followed by the clinking of metal dropping onto the floor and a faint zipper.

He let his slacks fall to the floor, rubbing his clothed erection against your wet hole, making your hips buckle and thighs tremble.

“Needy girl.” He drawled out the degrading comment, pulling down his boxers to let his hardened length spring free. Teasing the tip at your slick folds, you whined again, face flushed with the electricity shooting through your body from the sexual anticipation.

Calloused hands cupped your hips, grabbing them as Danny's erection thrusted deep into your cunt, stretching it open.

“So fucking tight f’me, aren't ya,” he groaned, pounding into your ass like a horny teenager, thrusts erratic and uncomposed. “Taking me so well,” he grunted breathlessly, your sweet moans filling the room as you raced your release.

“D-Danny, please—” you whined, mind fuzzy from the overwhelming pleasure, hips moving and jerking with Danny's erratic movements, as your thighs began to tremble, gripping onto the amp until your knuckles went white, “I’m gonna—”

“Then come,” he spat, chasing his own release with gritted teeth, “come all over my cock.”

In one final thrust, you let go, pussy walls fluttering and clenching around Danny's cock. You moaned loudly, eyes rolling back as back arched in pleasure, feeling your release pool out of you like a waterfall.

Danny wasn't far behind, burying his hard length inside as thick ropes of cum painted your walls white, a large, guttural groan leaving his lips.

“Good girl,” he praised, pressing a soft kiss to your temple as he pulled out of you, watching his cum overflowing out of your ass, dripping down your bare flesh. Quickly, he pulled up his trousers and boxers, revelling in the twitchy, messy state you currently were in.

Pulling out his phone from his back pocket, he flashed a photo of your leaking cunt, your combined juices trailing down your thighs with a low chuckle.

“Maybe I'll send this to one of those magazines to show them how much of a slut you are for me.”

danny is infiltrating my every thought. is this a curse, or blessing perhaps? maybe the filth is a drug. we'll never know... unless you send me your dirtiest thoughts for an edition in my notebook.. your choice though.. - notti <3

[oneforthemunny]

can i suggest rockstar eddie and reader who are in the midst of hatefucking when valentines falls. they’re both on dates with other people and eddie found out where shes going through gareth through farrah so books the same place…

oh absolutely. i love this.

i feel like it’s around dark shadows time when they’re not hating hating each other, but they would never admit that.

maybe after he had a very public hookup with a model and she got a little jealous? has dinner with his rival (prelude to the song perhaps??)

he just can’t stand it and he doesn’t know why he can’t stand it.

they end up together that night ofc.

i have something fluffy and sweet in the works for them as we speak, but i will revisit this too. maybe rockstar!eddie gets extra love on vday with two fics

[mairaiscarrierofthepaperclips]

Flufftober 2023 Masterlist

Handy list of my Buddie Flufftober 2023 fics, for anyone looking for a specific one.

just like our hearts intertwine. G, 1.1k Tooth-rotting fluff. Eddie leads a blind-folded Buck to a backyard surprise.

my heart will bloom for you. G, 1.3k. Secret relationship. They try to keep their cool around the Firefam. It goes about as well as expected.

i smiled because i knew. G, 1.1k Love confession. A zoo trip takes an unexpected turn. At least for Buck; Eddie absolutely knew what he was doing.

what makes life divine. T, 1.7k. Fantasy AU. Prince!Eddie and commoner!Buck.

you hold my heart forever. G, 1.8k. Halloween fic. Haunted corn maze + handholding.

i so informed you thusly. M, 2.4k. Established relationship. Domestic fluff and a broken porch swing.

the only thing more beautiful. T, 2.2k. Love confessions a la Abeula's telenovellas (i.e., shouted across a carpark AND in the rain).

so hold my heart my love my soul. T, 2.5k. Catdad!Eddie. A tiny kitten helps Eddie admit his feelings.

a madman and a minstrel. T, 2.7k. Drunken confession. Eddie secretly confesses his feelings for Buck. To Buck.

your sweetness i crave, your lips upon mine. T, 2.7k. Hospital confession. Because Buck is in hospital again, which obviously means feelings get involved.

you are my very movement, and i your wildest yes. E, 2.5k. Author's first E fic. Firelight, a blanket, and two guys very much in love.

and i always will. M, 2.3k. Morning after fic. Eddie accidentally answers Buck's phone.

you're the one i choose. T, 3.1k. Celebrity AU. Actor!Buck and boyfriend!Eddie.

finally, drops about me, on me. T, 3.1k. Baking fic. Yet another fic where love is realised in the kitchen.

all that's best of dark and bright. M, 4.1k. Nightmare fic. Comfort can always be found in the arms of the one you love.

in different kinds of solitude. T, 3.7k. Firefam fic. The 118 are sick of Oblivious!Buddie, so they make it their mission to fix it.

nothing is simple yet nothing is simpler. T, 2.7k. Hospital fic. Buck vs. Eddie Diaz and the Slutty Black Tank Top.

you're where i stand, hearing the sea. T, 2.9k. Accidental kiss. When you're so (secretly) in love with someone that kissing them seems completely normal.

night strewn salt across the sky. T, 3.3k. CoffeeshopAU. Featuring barista!Buck and nurse!Eddie.

to the depth and breadth and height. M, 6.2k. 5+1 fic. Five times Eddie makes Buck (happy) cry, and the one time Christopher does.

i am never without it. T, 3.4k. Love confessions. Buck discovers that not all bad memories are viewed as such.

to notice all the shiny things. T, 4.2k. Beach fic. Eddie is shirtless at the beach and Buck is very aware of that fact.

i wanna feel the sunshine, shining down on me and you. T, 3.7k. Accidental kiss. Because when something seems so natural, how can you not do it?

to beg a boon. G, 3k. Not Actually Unrequited Love. Buck and Eddie visit a carnival.

that show us to our love inevitable. T, 2.1k. Literal sleeping together. A thunderstorm hits L.A. and brings memories with it.

for all the words unspoken. T, 5.1k. Only one bed. The 118 go to a conference out of town.

give me the love that so freely gives. T, 2.3k. The 'wha- no!' moment. Chimney helps Buck realise (and admit) his feelings.

[itsmiahshemakessense]

Deleted xmas byler fic

Not mine!! but i had it downloaded and wanted to post here in case anyone else wanted to read the fluff masterpiece!

a three-step plan to make will byers fall in love

RomeoWrites

Summary:

It’s Christmas break and Mike Wheeler is having a crisis. Why? Because the Byers are visiting for the first time in almost two years, and sometime since leaving Hawkins, Will has gotten hot. And Mike is dealing with that in a totally platonic way. Or so he insists.  OR The party concocts a three-step plan to get Will Byers to fall in love assuming, of course, that he hasn’t already.

rating:

General Audiences

Archive Warning:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Fandom:

Stranger Things (TV 2016)

Relationship:

Will Byers/Mike Wheeler

Characters:

Will Byers

Mike Wheeler

Eleven | Jane Hopper

Lucas Sinclair

Maxine "Max" Mayfield

Dustin Henderson

Additional Tags:

Fluff

Getting Together

Funny

Humor

Fluff and Humor

Sweet

First Kiss

Christmas

Holidays

Christmas Fluff

Language: English Published: 2022-08-09 Words: 13620 Chapters:1/1 Comments: 35 Kudos: 814 Bookmarks: 176 Hits: 5075

Phase Zero: The Pre-Planning

It’s the last day of school before the Christmas break, and Mike Wheeler is distracted. Like, head empty, no neurons firing, kind of distracted. If it wasn’t the last day of term he would definitely be in detention by now, because absolutely no thoughts have passed through his brain in any of his lessons thus far. 

“Dustin,” he whispers halfway into their last math class of the year. “Dustin, I’m in urgent and dire need of assistance.”

“What?” Comes the vaguely annoyed response, and Mike rolls his eyes. It’s the last day of term and Dustin is still insisting on putting up a facade of concentration, despite the fact that literally everyone else in their class is already chattering away, and their teacher does not seem to care one bit.

“Assistance, Dustin. Keep up. I need assistance. Urgently and direly, in fact.”

Dustin fixes him with a look. “You sound like you’ve swallowed a thesaurus.”

“This is not the time to make fun of my extremely well-appointed grasp of the English language,” he hisses. “I’m having a crisis.”

That piques Dustin’s interest. “A crisis? What kind of crisis?”

And truthfully, Mike is not exactly sure, because said crisis only started this morning. At 6:52 am to be exact, when the Byers arrived at his house to spend their Christmas break back in Hawkins, away from California. The party had gathered at the Wheeler’s, where the Byers would be staying, to greet Will and El, who had jumped out of the car and immediately been smothered by a party group hug. Well, a party group hug without Mike who, upon seeing Will emerge from the backseat of Mrs Byers’ car, had promptly melted into a puddle of goo with very limited brain power. He had only just managed to react somewhat normally when Will pulled him into a tight hug, but when Will wryly complimented his Yoda pajamas, he was pretty sure all he managed to get out was ‘guh.’

Because the thing is, Will has been Mike's best friend since they were five. And until one and a half years ago, Mike had seen him everyday. And Will was familiar. His short stature and swoopy brown hair were familiar. His hazel eyes and shy smiles. Will was the type of kid who parents would coo over and teachers loved, because for all intents and purposes, he was cute. Adorable, even. Politely charming with his drawings and ink covered hands. But now? After Mike only had one short visit to California, very early on, and not so much as a photograph of Will before today? Will’s familiar features are gone. And instead Mike came to the abrupt realization this morning, that Will is hot. And that’s not a word that Mike would ever use aloud. But it’s true. Somewhere between before and now, Will has become completely and breathtakingly gorgeous. And Mike is dealing with that fact in a totally normal and platonic way. 

“What kind of crisis?” Dustin asks again. 

Mike shrugs rather helplessly. “I’m not entirely sure.”

Dustin’s eyes gleam with scientific intrigue. “A guessing game, then. Okay, academic?”

Mike shakes his head. 

“Family?”

Still no. 

“Personal?”

Uh - somewhat. 

“…sexual?”

And Mike’s face must look some type of way because Dustin lets out an honest-to-god cackle. “What? You’re having a sexual crisis?”

“No!” Mike quickly amends, trying to do damage control for his facial expressions. “Not sexual. More like, romantic, I guess?”

Dustin levels him with a look. “A romantic crisis, huh? And what, exactly, has brought this about?”

“Uh - well, it’s kind of complicated, really.” It’s not complicated, Mike is just a coward. “It’s just I’ve noticed someone today who I find, uh - who is- well, someone who is rather, um, nice-looking,” he finishes lamely. 

“Nice-looking?”

“Yeah, you know. Handsome.”

“Handsome?”

“Attractive?” Mike tries.

Dustin rolls his eyes. “Are you seriously this repressed? The word is hot, Michael.”

“Right. Yes. That.” Even hearing it aloud sent a little thrill through his stomach as he remembers how good Will looks with his tousled hair and strong jawline.

“Handsome as in male, handsome?” Dustin asks, a polite sort of curiosity in his tone. 

“That would be accurate.”

“Oh, so this is about Will.”

Mike has to stop himself from shoving his pencil into his eye. “How did you know that? Was I super obvious?”

“Just a little bit,” Dustin admits. “Not to Will, though, I think you’re safe there.”

At least that’s a relief. “So, what should I do? You know, about the crisis?”

“Well, what do you want to do?” And Mike is immediately glad he chose Dustin to confide in, with his level-headedness and logic. He isn’t going to blow this whole thing out of proportion. “Because I think you should just tell him that you think he’s earth-shatteringly and mind-bogglingly hot, and you know, maybe kiss him. I think he’d appreciate that.”

And oh, look at that! Mike now regrets everything. “I am not going to do either of those things, Dustin,” he hisses. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Why is that ridiculous?”

“Well, for starters, I’m not just going to kiss him out of nowhere, that’s rude. And secondly, we don’t know that he’s going to appreciate it? He could completely freak out.”

“He’s not going to freak out - and everyone appreciates kissing.”

“Okay, that is so not true, and this isn’t about kissing. It’s about…” Mike trails off, looking for words and Dustin snaps his fingers at him. 

“Oh. Oh, ho, ho,” he chortles. 

“Okay, please stop doing that.”

“This isn’t a sexual crisis at all, is it?”

“I already told you that it wasn’t-”

“This is a love crisis.” Dustin strings out the word love like luuurve and that’s the only thing that horrifies Mike out of evaporating on the spot. Because love is a big word. A huge word, in fact. And also the word that most accurately describes his problem. He is having a love crisis. 

Of course, he immediately denies this. “Actually, you know what? Let’s go back to sexual crisis. I think even that is more comfortable than how you just pronounced love.”

“I can’t believe you’re in love. Well, actually, maybe I can.”

“Okay, no one said anything about love.”

“Of course you’re in love. It’s Will.”

And surprisingly, that’s probably the first thing Dustin’s said so far that makes sense in Mike’s brain. He fiddles with his pencil and considers his options. Number one is to deny, deny, deny. But he’s the one who started this whole conversation, so it’s not like Dustin will believe him. Number two: pass it off as just a physical attraction - something that isn’t serious. Will is pretty and Mike wants to kiss him, but it’s not love. Just one guy appreciating the good-looks of another guy. But then phrase sexual crisis rings in his head, and he immediately vetoes that option. Which leaves him with one more. Admit what he has known to be true for approximately six years. That he is definitely in love, and maybe, just maybe, he’s finally emotionally prepared to do something about it.

“Okay, maybe just a little bit,” is what ends up coming out of his mouth, and Dustin sits back on his chair, satisfied.

“Well, good. Acceptance is the first step. Scoring yourself a super hot boyfriend is step number two.”

“And how exactly do you expect me to do that?”

“It’s simple. At lunch hour, we’ll lay this all out for the rest of the party and we’ll put our brilliant minds together and come up with a plan.”

He makes it sound so easy, that Mike feels compelled to just let it happen. 

“Okay.” He steadies himself. “A plan. We can make a plan.” Then: “Do you really think Will is going to want that? Do you think he might like me back?”

Dustin rocks back on his rear chair legs, thoughtfully. “Well, scientifically speaking, you know, considering the evidence, I don’t think it’s the most unlikely thing in the world. I’d put your odds at 70:30.”

Mike rolls his eyes. “Great. Numbers. Just what I need to help me through this.”

“Hey, math is a great way to figure things out. And those are good odds.”

Mike stabs his pencil into his worksheet, mutinously. 70% chance of success. He liked the sound of that. But 30% chance of failure? That, he could have lived without. 

“I’ll think about it,” he says at last. “You can tell the party at lunch, and I’ll think about it.”

Dustin gives him a final nod and turns his attention back to their assigned work. And Mike tries to do the same, he really does, but by the time the bell rings for lunch hour, all he’s managed to do is doodle a couple of little hearts on his page and one very clumsy drawing of a boy in a wizards hat. He flushes, and scrunches up the paper, tossing it in the bin on the way out.

And maybe he was being somewhat (utterly and entirely) naive, thinking Dustin that would at least try to be a little bit subtle about this whole thing, because as soon as they arrive at their usual cafeteria table, Dustin slams down his lunch tray and with fervor, declares: “Mike is having a crisis.”

And if that wasn’t already enough to send Mike into a half-panicked state, Dustin then adds with a hushed sort of reverence, as if this was the news of the century: “Of the sexual kind.”

“Dustin!” Mike whisper-shouts, trying to suppress his mortification. “That is not what this is.”

“Oh? Did you or did you not use the words earth-shatteringly and mind-bogglingly hot?”

“I did not-” Mike’s horrified protest is cut off by the audible gasping coming from the rest of their table.

“What? Who does Mike think is hot-”

“You like someone? This is unbelievable-”

Dustin waves away everyone with an airy hand. “The point is this: Mike has declared himself hopelessly and irrevocably in love-” Mike gives up any attempt to interject and just groans, slapping his hand over his face, “-and it is our job, as his most dear and loyal friends-” (“-only friends,” Max interrupts) “-to help him,” Dustin finishes with a flourish.

“Help him?” Lucas asks quizzically. “You really think we can help him? He’s a hopeless case.”

“Hey-”

“It’s true, Mike,” Max says unsympathetically. “You’re probably the least romantic person I know.”

Mike scowls. “I could be romantic.” Then pauses. “Wait, no. I don’t want to be romantic - this is a terrible idea.”

Lucas points at him. “There you have it. He doesn’t want to be romantic.”

“Yeah, thank god,” adds Max. “That would be a trainwreck.”

“Gee, thanks,” he says sarcastically. And how exactly did Mike end up with such supportive and caring friends? 

Max mimes a ‘you’re welcome’ while Dustin splutters in disagreement. “What? No. You don’t even know who this is about yet. How can you give up so easily?”

And that gets Max and Lucas interested again. 

“Well, tell us then. Who is she?” Lucas asks, and then shoots a glance at Mike. “Uh, he?” 

Max elbows him. “They.”

Dustin looks to Mike as if for approval and Mike just waves his hands vaguely. He supposes it won’t be the worst thing in the world if they find out about Will. Maybe it would make them more sympathetic when every Friday evening he ditches any plans because that’s his and Will’s night to talk as much as they can on the phone until someone kicks them off. 

“Okay. It’s…” Dustin pauses for dramatic effect until Mike kicks him under the table. “Ow! Okay. It’s Will.”

“Knew it.”

“Called it.”

“It’s because of this morning, isn’t it?” Lucas accuses. “You saw him and totally freaked out because he’s all hot now.”

“Yeah, your face was so red, I thought you were going to explode.”

“Okay, can you stop being mean?” Mike directs at Max. “This is a trying time.” Then he looks at Lucas. “And can everyone please stop with the h-word?”

“He has problems with the h-word,” Dustin stage-whispers. 

And great, now they’re all laughing at him, and Mike tries to slowly slip under the table, but Max reaches over and grabs him by the collar. “Relax, Wheeler, we’re only joking. I, for one, am actually glad that you’re finally admitting your feelings, and would be honored to join the noble quest to find you requited love.”

“You’ve come to too many of our DnD campaigns,” is all Mike says to that. 

Max sends him a borderline horrified look. “You know I’m joking when I say shit like that, right? You do know that?”

“Alright, calm down,” Lucas interjects. “It’s not like you’re going to lose any cool credits with us.”

“People!” Dustin claps his hands together. “We are getting off-track. This meeting has been called to help Mike, not to bully him.”

“Meeting?” Mike splutters. “This is lunch.”

Dustin waves him off. “We need a plan.”

“Well, what’s our aim? Our hypothesis?” Lucas asks, and wow. Between the basketball and the general athleticism, Mike had forgotten that Lucas was still, like the rest of them, a huge nerd.

“This is not a science experiment-”

“Experiment!” Max cuts off his protest. “That’s exactly it. We should run trials. Attempts. We should try to set them up.”

“Oh, absolutely not,” Mike says loudly.

“That,” Dustin points two, twin finger guns at Max, “is an excellent idea.”

“No, no, no, not excellent-”

“We could each have a go,” Lucas adds, apparently joining Dustin and Max in being deaf to the sound of Mike’s voice. “Make it a competition.”

“A competition?”

“Yeah, like, each of us can try to get them together, and the best man-”

“-or woman-”

“Or woman, will win.”

“Genius,” Dustin whispers. “Pure genius.”

All three of them look around at each other with the sort of reverent air that could only be conjured up by a bunch of far too self-important sixteen-year-olds. 

Mike attempts to say something rational. Reasonable, so as to convince them all that this is a very, very bad idea. What comes out instead is: “Are you all actually insane?”

As one, they turn to look at him, as if only just remembering that he does, in fact, exist. By the looks on their faces, they don’t see anything wrong with their plan. Mike sinks back into his seat with a half-strangled sort of moan. “Oh my god. You are. You all are. My three best-” (“-only-”) “-friends are insane.”

“Oh, certifiably,” Dustin says agreeably. “But does that mean this is a bad idea?”

“Yes. Yes, it does.”

“Oh, come on, Mike. You’ve been hung up on Will since we were in middle school - and don’t pretend like you weren’t. Is it really the worst thing in the world if you give yourself a chance?”

Mike considers Lucas’ words, and hears the truth in them. Although seeing Will this morning had jolted something to life within himself, he has long been aware of the feelings he harbors, that were subconscious at first, until all of a sudden he turned ten, learnt what romance was, and developed what was probably the strongest childhood crush in the history of childhood crushes. Of course, now it’s a fair bit more than a childhood crush, so really, maybe this is a good idea. He could do with a chance. 

“And if you do end up woefully and pitifully rejected, hey, the Byers live in California now, so it’s not like it’ll be that awkward,” Max supplies helpfully.

He shoots her a glare, any confidence he had, immediately evaporating. “Right. Will is going to reject me and this is a horrible plan.”

“Oh, lighten up, Wheeler,” Dustin says. “Sure, the painful pull of heartbreak may befall you, but is that any worse than the pain of never knowing what could be, if only you would proclaim your frankly sickeningly sweet, but admittedly adorable, love?”

Max punches him in the arm. “Don’t talk like that.”

But Dustin’s speech, however falsely pretentious, does stir something within Mike. He feels himself slowly nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

“Seriously, man? That’s what convinced you?”

“I’ve told you before, I’m a poet-”

“Oh, shut up, the pair of you.” Max looks at Mike squarely from across the table. “You’ll do it?”

And what the hell? What does he have to lose, really? (His dignity, his pride, his lifelong best friend, his brain supplies helpfully, but he ignores it.) 

“Yeah. I’ll do it. Proclaim my love, or whatever.”

Dustin beams at him. “Great! What’s the worst that could possibly happen?”

Lucas covers Max’s mouth before she can answer.

“Yeah,” Mike says, brain spinning with possibilities. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Phase One: Max’s Madness

Immediately after school, the plan commences. Sometime during their shared science lab (while Mike sat, miserable and alone, relegated to a separate bench for secrecy purposes), Dustin, Lucas, and Max had put together three strategies to be executed over the next three days, that will supposedly ‘make Will fall in love, like he never has before’ according to Dustin (‘assuming, of course, that he’s not already in love with you’ adds Lucas). Of course, they don’t tell Mike what any of these strategies are, but he knows that each of them is responsible for one. He dreads Max’s the most. 

They all cycle to the Wheeler’s, and for the first time in his life, Mike wishes the distance between his house and school was longer, because all he wants to do right now is delay, delay, delay. Max catches his eye as he’s mid-deep-breath, trying to stop his heart from beating so fast. 

“Would you calm down?” Max asks. “You’re acting like you’re going to have a heart attack when you see him.

“Maybe a heart attack isn’t the anatomical reaction he’s worried about-”

“Don’t even think about finishing that sentence, Dustin,” Mike warns, ignoring the amused look between him and Lucas and the face of mock-disgust from Max. “I’m calm. I’m very calm. Never been more calm.”

The group share disbelieving glances. 

“Alright,” says Max. “Just try to take deep breaths so you don’t start stress-sweating. That’s not the impression you want to give off.”

“I’m not trying to give off an impression. Will already knows everything about me, it’s not like I’m suddenly going to show up and he’s going to think I'm an entirely different person.”

“Well, I don't know, man. Your look is kind of edgy now. Maybe Will likes emo boys.”

“I’m not emo,” Mike objects, but secretly feels a little pleased about the assessment of his style. “Besides, he saw me this morning. I don’t look any different.”

“Yeah, well, this morning you were in Star Wars pajamas, so maybe give edgy a chance.”

Mike flushes a little. “I’ll have you know that Will said my pajamas were cool.”

The group shares another disbelieving glance, and man, Mike was getting sick of those. 

“Looks like California has made Will forget about the friends don’t lie rule, huh?” Dustin laughs, and Mike doesn’t feel the least bit guilty about shoving him off his bike. 

They reach the house and Mike feels in a tizzy. He lets Lucas and Max frog-march him to the front door, sure that if he walked by himself, he would never make it. 

“What’s today's strategy, again?” he asks.

“Don’t you worry about that,” Dustin answers unhelpfully. 

“Great. Just great,” he mutters to himself as he fumbles for his key and opens the door. 

El greets them as soon as they walk inside. “Finally, you’re home! We’ve been so bored all day, waiting. Will’s still upstairs, but he’ll be down in a minute.”

Mike’s stomach does a disconcerting little flip when he realizes that Will is probably up in his bedroom, where he’ll be sleeping for the next two weeks. Mrs Byers and El are in Nancy’s room since she (and Jonathan) are staying at college during the break. Will got stuck with Mike’s floor, since they didn’t have another spare bedroom, and really, Mike is not complaining. Still, he hopes he didn’t leave anything embarrassing around when he left this morning. 

Then he hears Will’s voice as he comes down the stairs and balks. “Okay, abort mission,” he hisses to the group. “Abort. This is a terrible plan.”

El looks at them, confused. “What plan?”

Dustin starts to say something, but cuts himself off when Will appears and looks around at their guilty faces. “What’s going on?” he asks.

Lucas leaps towards him, trying (and failing) to affect an air of nonchalance. “William!” He wraps his arm around Will’s like they’re an old married couple from a Jane Austen novel and guides him down the rest of the stairs. “Absolutely nothing out of the ordinary is going on, don’t you worry about that.”

Will looks bemused. “Why are you talking like that?”

“No reason, no reason.”

“Um, okay?” Will shifts his eyes around the room until they land on Mike, and then his lips tilt up into a smile. “Hey, Mike.”

Mike stares until Max elbows him in the ribs. “Oh, uh - hi.” And that is definitely not the usual octave he speaks in. 

Will gives him a strange look, but presses on. “How was the last day of school?”

“Um, it was…” Mike thinks back to their lunch time conversation. “Productive.”

Will gives him another bemused little smile, before starting up a conversation with Lucas and Max. Mike takes a moment to try and jumpstart his brain, since currently it’s only able to focus on the fact that Will is wearing a tight, long-sleeve, black shirt and Mike doesn’t think he’s ever seen him in that color before.

“Why are you acting weird?” El asks him suspiciously, and Mike jumps a little.

“I’m not,” he says defensively, “I’m acting very normal.”

El raises her eyebrows, but doesn’t push any further. He distracts himself by dumping his backpack and shoes in the hall, and shrugging off his coat, until he hears another voice.

“Will, sweetie?” Mrs Byers calls from upstairs. “Will you help me set up this bed for a moment?”

Will rolls his eyes, but starts to climb back up the stairs. “Be back in a minute.”

As soon as he disappears, Max starts whispering to El very rapidly and Mike squints at them. “Woah, woah, woah. You’re not telling her the plan, are you?”

The look on El’s face tells him everything he needs to know. “Oh my god.” He throws a hand over his face in embarrassment. “Just tell the whole world, won’t you? Maybe Will while you're at it? Save us all some time.”

“Maybe that’s a good idea,” says El. “I don’t think you need a plan, just tell Will how you feel. And be honest.”

Max scoffs. “You want Mike to express his feelings? With words? Be serious, El. You saw him just then, he was a stuttering mess.”

Mike doesn’t even try to argue because it’s an entirely accurate statement. 

El still hesitates. “But, it’s not like a trick?”

“No!” Dustin says. “It’s not a trick at all. We’re just helping them along. Creating romantic scenarios.”

“Romantic scenarios,” El says slowly. “Like from movies.”

“Exactly,” says Lucas. “Like, Max’s plan is today, and mine is tomorrow. And I just know that mine is going to work perfectly.”

“What is it?” Mike tries. He gets no response. 

“And you think these will work?” El asks. 

She received three identical nods in reply. She considers them all for a moment, before finally saying: “Okay. But only because I want to see Will happy.” Then she looks at Mike. “And you too, I suppose.”

“Gee, thanks,” Mike grumbles. “Always good to be a second thought.”

El shoots him a bright grin and loops her arm into Max’s, dragging her down the basement stairs. “So, tell me about your plan…”

With the girls gone, Mike looks around at Lucas and Dustin, feeling more than a little mortified. “Was it really that bad? Am I a stuttering mess like Max said?”

Lucas claps him on the shoulder sympathetically. “Well, let’s put it this way. Will still seemed plenty happy to see you, so we’ll count it as a win.”

Mike forces himself to take his hundredth deep breath of the day. “Okay, Mike,” he mutters to himself. “You can do this. You can talk like a normal person to Will - in fact, you literally did that last night on the phone. This isn’t any different.” He ignores the way Lucas and Dustin are looking at him like he’s completely lost the plot. “You just need to be calm, and remember that Will likes you. You’re his best friend. He’s happy to see you, and you just need to act normal.”

He exhales one more time and looks up. “Okay, actually that really made me feel better.”

Dustin just looks at him. “Okay, buddy.”

But, truly, Mike has mastered the art of self-pep-talks because when Will reappears, Mike bounds up to him, even managing to sling a casual arm around his shoulder, and steers him into the kitchen. “Go to the basement,” he calls to the others. “We’ll bring snacks.”

As they head into the kitchen, Mike can’t help but feel ridiculously happy. It’s been a long time since he’s seen Will in his house, and familiarity makes his heart swell.

“I like your new haircut,” Will says as he pulls some sodas out of the fridge. “It’s very… you.”

Mike feels absurdly pleased. “Thanks,” he says, turning around to grab a bag of chips so Will doesn’t see him flush. Will just hums in response, and when Mike turns back, Will reaches a hand up and tugs gently on one of his curls, letting it spring back up after. Mike swallows hard.

“It looks really good,” Will murmurs, his hand just barely brushing Mike’s cheek as he brings it back down. Mike accidentally pops the chip bag and both of them jump.

“Sorry!” His voice is an octave higher than usual, so he tries again. “Sorry. Held it a bit too tight.”

He turns around again swiftly and hunts for a bowl, trying to stop his heart from pounding. He pours the chips out, grabs a couple of chocolate bars from the cupboard, and turns around once more. Will is leaning nonchalantly on the counter.

“Ready to go?” Mike says, holding up his haul. Will shoots him a smile and grabs the sodas.

“Onwards, paladin,” he says with a dorky grin. “To the basement.”

Mike huffs out a laugh, feeling the knot of nerves in his chest loosen a little. It’s just Will, he reminds himself. “After you, cleric.”

They head down the stairs and almost make it into the basement, when Mike pauses, hearing a noise from behind the laundry door. “Hear that?” He nudges Will’s leg with his foot, hands holding their snacks.

Will tucks the soda pack under one arm and opens the laundry door. Chaos unfolds before Mike’s eyes. Lucas and Dustin are arguing in a corner, Max is sitting cross-legged on top of the dryer, and El is crouched on the floor next to a huge puddle of soapy water. In the middle of it all lies a bundle of wet, shiny material in distinctive tones of red and navy that Mike recognises.

“Are those our sleeping bags?” Mike is somewhat incredulous at the soapy, sopping mess of fabric that is spread before him. “What the hell happened here?”

El stands back up, holding one of the sleeping bags. “Wet,” she says, helpfully. 

“We can see that, El.” Will’s tone is sort of resignedly amused, like he had expected nothing more from the group of four in front of them. “I think what Mike means is how did this happen?”

El shrugs, clearly the appointed speaker of the group, probably because they know Mike won’t get mad at her. “Washing machine.”

Mike sighs in exasperation and shares a helpless glance with Will. “Any chance these will dry before bedtime?”

“I mean, unless your dryer has super-machine capabilities…”

Even a dumb half-joke like that has Mike laughing, and he sees the look Max gives him like, damn, you’ve got it bad.  

Dustin grins around at them all, like this was exactly what was supposed to happen this evening, and Mike slowly starts to suspect that maybe, it actually is. And then Max confirms that suspicion by saying, “Guess you’ll both just have to sleep in Mike’s bed tonight, huh?” 

“Yeah, since the sleeping bags are unusable, and all,” adds Lucas. 

“Wet,” says El again. 

And Mike is a second away from throttling them all, because maybe before he could have gotten away with letting Will take his bed, and just spent the night on the basement couch, but now that they’ve said it aloud, it would be weird for him to say ‘no, we can’t share a bed, Will, because actually I have extremely un-heterosexual feelings for you and I will probably end up holding your hand or doing something equally stupid.’

Will nudges his side. “Guess we will.”

And between that and the frankly demonic grins the rest of his friends are sporting right now, Mike knows he is absolutely, one hundred percent, completely doomed. Of course, this is Max’s plan. He should have seen that one coming. 

Once Mike’s finished mopping the laundry (because he doesn’t even want to think about his mom’s face if he left it like that), they finally settle in the basement to watch a Christmas film. It passes far too quickly, and Mike feels like he barely has time to appreciate how Will sits next to him, legs tucked under himself, ankles and socked feet draped over Mike’s lap. Before he knows it, his mom is calling them all upstairs for dinner. And in what feels like an instant, the rest of the party has left, El has flounced upstairs to her room, and the parents are sipping mulled wine in the living room and talking about adult things. It’s only 9 o’clock, but he and Will wander up the stairs and set about getting ready for bed. 

Mike dawdles in the bathroom after brushing his teeth, trying to put off the inevitable. He even takes the extra time to floss while giving himself another mental pep-talk, and by the time he’s pushing open his bedroom door, he feels almost confident. 

“Hey,” he says, trying to sound casual. Will is sitting on his desk chair, absent-mindedly flipping through a comic book.

“Hi,” he says back, gesturing to the bed. “Want to go to sleep? I know it’s kind of early, but our flight was at, like, 2am this morning, and I feel like I’m about to collapse from exhaustion.” 

Mike grins at him. “Well, we can’t have that can we?” He switches off his bedroom light and makes his way to his bedside, turning on his lamp. Before he can think too much about it, he slides under the covers, carefully positioning himself so none of his body crosses the halfway mark of the bed. Will doesn’t seem to have any such qualms because when he joins him, he curls up right next to Mike, nudging their ankles together, and turning to face him on the pillow.

“We haven’t done this in a while,” he says in a whisper.

“Not since we were maybe ten,” Mike agrees.

“Remember when you used to have a bunk bed? And I always would start in the top bunk, but if I ever left to go to the bathroom or something, I would never be able to climb back up the ladder in the dark, so I would just sleep with you instead.”

Mike laughs at the memory. “Yeah, you were way too short to even be climbing that ladder in the first place. The steps were weirdly far apart.”

Will nods in agreement and then says with a hint of teasing: “Well, I’m not that short now, am I? I’m almost as tall as you.”

“Almost,” Mike whispers back. “But not quite.”

Will hums in response and then yawns. “Okay, I really am tired now.” Then he hesitates. “Um, leave the lamp on?”

Mike nods quickly. “Of course.”

Will sends him a sleepy smile, and tugs the duvet over his shoulders. “Thanks,” he whispers. Mike watches as his eyes slowly flutter shut and his breathing evens out, and wow, Will was not joking when he said he was tired, because it took him all of about thirty seconds to fall asleep. 

Mike does not experience the same luxury. He lies awake for what feels like hours, feeling hyper aware of every place Will is touching him, and really, Will couldn’t possibly have laid down any closer, could he? Mike’s almost falling off the edge of the bed, and he longingly eyes the large, empty space on the other side of Will. Of course, he doesn’t mind being close like this (quite the opposite, in fact), but the point remains; he is about two inches away from crashing painfully to the floor. 

Carefully, he eases his arm free where Will is holding it, and tries to somehow maneuver his body over the top of Will’s and make it to the other side. Of course, his plan fails abysmally when Will rolls over and accidentally dislodges Mike’s arm, sending him toppling down onto him. Will lets out a sound of muffled confusion, and Mike scrambles off as fast as he can.

“Sorry,” he whispers. “It’s just me - I was kind of falling off the edge, so I tried to move.”

Will blinks his eyes open blearily and squints at him. “And you climbed on top of me? Instead of getting out of bed and walking to the other side.”

Right. That would have been the obvious solution. “I didn’t think of that.”

Will lets his eyes fall shut again. “Sorry for squishing you,” he mumbles. “I’ll lie further away.”

“No, it’s fine!” Mike says a little too loudly in his haste to let Will know that he really doesn’t mind. “It’s fine, I don’t mind. Let’s just lie a little bit more in the middle of the bed, yeah?”

“Yeah, okay,” Will says, and rolls back over towards Mike again, tucking his head under Mike’s chin. “Goodnight.”

Mike awkwardly wraps an arm around Will’s shoulders and wriggles around until he’s fairly comfortable, with Will’s head resting on his chest and his hair tickling his nose. He feels somewhat surprised that Will is being so affectionate, although they had been fairly tactile with each other before he moved away, so really, why would now be any different? But something about it being in bed makes it feel a million times more intimate and Mike’s stupid heart skips a beat. 

He admits to himself that, annoyingly, Max’s plan seems to have worked incredibly well. He’s definitely not going to tell her that, but still. There’s a vague sense of gratitude floating around his body as he finally drifts off to sleep. Phase one is over, and they have two more to go.

Phase Two: Lucas’ Stratagem

After Max’s plan yesterday went off without a hitch, Lucas apparently decides to let Mike in on his own plan a little bit, and pulls him aside when the party arrives after breakfast.

“Okay, today is phase two,” he whispers. “It’s a two-pronged approach. A stratagem, if you will.”

“A stratagem?” Mike whispers back. “What are we meant to be out-strategizing?”

“Your romantic incompetence,” answers Lucas. And ouch. Mike secretly thinks that Will didn’t seem to mind his romantic incompetence last night, but he says nothing. “All you have to do today,” Lucas continues, “is be your usual hopeless self. It’s the perfect plan because it capitalizes on who you and Will are as people. You’re clumsy at the best of times, and Will is generally coordinated. The two prongs. It’ll be great.”

Mike quite honestly has no idea what Lucas is talking about, but the promise that his clumsiness is going to come in useful isn’t one that he particularly likes. It’s not his fault that his limbs are far too long for his own good.  

He starts to understand when Lucas turns to the party, at large, and announces: “Ice skating.” 

Mike fights back a groan. He sucks at ice skating. “Do we have to? I mean, it’s freezing out.”

“You’re just scared because you have terrible balance,” Max argues.

El jostles his shoulder and says, “Like bambi on ice.”

Will turns to look at him with wide, pleading eyes. “Come on, Mike. It’ll be fun. El and I skate all the time back in California, and the lake is so pretty this time of year.”

And when Will is looking at him like that, how could Mike possibly say anything but yes? “Fine. But if I fall on my ass, I’m holding all of you responsible.” He points a threatening finger around the room as Max rolls her eyes. 

Will beams at him, and then ducks a little closer. “Don’t worry,” he says in an undertone as the party starts pulling on coats and hats. “If you’re really that bad, I’ll hold your hand.”

Okay, so maybe ice skating is, in fact, a terrific idea. He hates and loves the fact that Lucas most definitely saw this coming. He convinces his mom and Mrs Byers, who are drinking wine in the kitchen, to let them borrow a car, and after a warning to drive carefully, the party is off. 

Lover’s Lake (and no, the irony of the name does not escape Mike’s notice), is always frozen over at this time of year, and it’s a long-held Hawkins tradition for it to be set up as an ice rink. Fairy lights have been strung over tree branches at the shore, and a stall is set up renting ice skates for a few dollars an hour. He pushes Will’s hand aside when he tries to pay, figuring that he should at least try to put a bit of effort into making this date-like. It’s definitely worth it when Will leans close to his ear to whisper a thank you that makes his neck tingle. 

The party kick off their shoes and pull on their skates, and make their way (some with more difficulty than others) onto the ice. Will immediately speeds off, hand in hand with El and the two start a lap around the outskirt of the fenced-off portion of the lake that forms the rink. All bundled up in their winter coats and hats, they look closer to twins than siblings, and the sight makes Mike feel warm.

“So much for holding your hand, huh?” Lucas’ voice sounds in his ear.

Mike whirls around unsteadily on his skates. “You heard that?”

Lucas gives him a knowing smirk. “This is my plan, Wheeler. It’s my job to hear things.”

“Okay, calm down, you’re not a superspy.”

And then Lucas actually winks. “Maybe I am.”

Mike narrows his eyes, suspicious. “What do you know that you’re not telling me?”

Lucas just shrugs, and starts skating away towards Max.

“Lucas!” Mike shouts after him. “If you’re not going to tell me, at least help me skate!”

Dustin sidles up to him after Mike’s spent a few seconds hopelessly spinning on the spot. “Looks like it’s just you and me now, huh?”

Mike can’t help the longing glance he throws in Will’s direction. “Right. You and me.”

Unhelpfully, Dustin is almost as bad at skating as he is, and together they attempt to unsuccessfully propel themselves towards the center of the lake. (“You’re terrible at this-” “Oh, like you’re any better-” “Stop leaning on me!” “I have to lean on you, you’re shorter than me-”)

Eventually the Wonder Twins make their way towards them, probably out of pity. They stop right in front of Dustin and Mike, and Will looks frustratingly elegant on his skates. 

Mike glares at him. “How the hell are you so good at this?”

Will simply grins, and reaches forward to take Mike’s hand, and Mike’s annoyance immediately evaporates. “Come on, I’ll teach you.”

El and Dustin seem to get the hint, and they start to skate away together, leaving Will and Mike standing on their own, right in the middle of the rink. In Mike’s mind he can picture that if they were looking at the lake from above, he and Will would be standing somewhere in the top-right-hand-corner of the heart that it’s shaped into. 

“Your hands are freezing,” Will remarks, starting to tug Mike along. “Come on, move your feet a little. No - don’t lift them up! Just glide.”

“Easy for you to say,” Mike mutters, although he’s no longer irritated. “Tell me again how long it takes to learn this?”

“Don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it. El and I go skating pretty much every weekend. There’s not much else to do in Lenora Hills.”

He says Lenora Hills with a little eye roll that makes Mike pause. “I thought you were enjoying California?”

Will makes a face. “Well, yeah, I mean school is good - less bullies and all, and definitely less creepy supernatural stuff, but still.” He squeezes Mike’s hand. “It doesn’t have you.”

And that feels like an opening, if there ever was one. Mike squeezes his hand back. “I’ve really missed you. I know I say it on our calls all the time, but it’s true. Hawkins isn’t the same without you.”

Will’s face is flushed, and Mike hopes that it's from his words and not just from the cold. As they slowly shuffle along Mike has to fight the urge to do something ridiculous, like kiss Will. He settles for snatching the red beanie off Will’s head with his spare hand instead, and jams it on his own head.

“Hey,” Will protests. “Get your own hat.”

“This is my hat,” Mike informs him dryly. “You stole it from my wardrobe this morning.”

He expects Will to shoot another remark back at him, but instead he brings them to a stop, and slowly fixes how the hat is sitting on Mike’s head, tugging out a few pieces of hair that were caught. “Well, if you’re going to steal it back, at least wear it properly,” he says quietly. 

Mike’s face feels much warmer than the hat could ever make him, and Will can definitely tell because he starts grinning. “Feeling warm?” he asks innocently.

Mike just punches his arm before grabbing his hand again. “Come on, let’s skate. I think I’m getting the hang of it now.”

He was not, in fact, getting the hang of it. But after a while (and more than a few stumbles that had Will catching him before he could topple onto the ice), he’s finally able to glide forward with some semblance of coordination. Both he and Will conveniently ignore the fact that they probably don’t need to hold hands anymore, and start making their way over to where the others have gathered near the shore.

“Well, don’t you two look adorable,” Lucas teases. Mike grabs a handful of snow from the bank and shoves it in Lucas’ face. The movement makes him tilt forward a little, and Will grabs him around the waist to steady him.

Lucas now looks positively gleeful. “Shut up,” Mike mutters. Then, because he wants a distraction: “There’s hot chocolate being sold on the other bank. Shall we?”

El quickly agrees, clapping her mittened hands together, and as one, they all set off. Mike may or may not purposefully stumble at the start so that Will holds his hand again. Max shoots him a look, but hey, it works, so Mike is not complaining. The others start up a light conversation that Mike lets fade into the background as he sneaks glances at Will out of the corner of his eye. Halfway across the lake, it starts snowing, and little snowflakes hang off Will’s eyelashes and hair. Against the wintery white background and the distant fairlights that glow in the trees, he looks ethereal. Of course, then he shoots an evil grin at Mike and shouts: “Race you!”, and Mike’s moment of inner awe is promptly ruined.

Groaning to himself, he attempts to follow the rest of the party as they speed across the lake, whooping and shouting. He’s vaguely impressed with himself when he makes it to the other shore in one piece, only a minute behind the others, and also ahead of Dustin. Will grins at him and presses a styrofoam cup of hot chocolate into his hands.

“Good job,” he says, steam from his own cup floating in front of his face. “You didn’t fall over.”

Mike takes a sip of chocolate and immediately regrets it as he burns his tongue. “Yeah, well, you’re a good teacher.” He sticks his tongue out and attempts to catch snowflakes to soothe the burn, and Will laughs at him. They make their way over to a quiet spot on the shore, a little ways away from the hot chocolate stand, and sit down on a tree root. Mike watches his friends as El attempts to teach them all to skate backwards.

Will presses his leg against Mike’s and asks: “Having a good time?”

“Yeah,” he replies, honestly. “Yeah, I really am.”

The smile that Will gives him is brilliant. “I’m glad.”

“I have a good time whenever I’m with you,” Mike blurts out, unable to stop himself. He promptly buries his head in his hot chocolate cup and blows so the steam rises, hiding his face from view.

Will is quiet for a moment before he speaks again. “That’s how I feel about you, too,” he says, voice soft. “You always make everything better.”

Mike feels as if someone has dumped his hot chocolate on his head, with the way his whole body is suddenly warm. Feeling daring, he wraps his arm around Will, and Will responds by tucking his head onto Mike’s shoulder. And for a moment, it feels like the whole world grinds to a stop. Mike can no longer hear the laughter of his friends, all he can feel is the gentle tickle of Will’s hair against his neck, and the sweet taste of chocolate in his mouth. He wonders if Will also tastes of chocolate. 

Gently, he squeezes Will’s shoulder and says, “I wish you were here all the time. I know California’s been good for you and El, but still. I just wish you could stay for a little bit longer.”

Will rests his hand on Mike’s leg and exhales slowly. “I wish I could stay, too.”

There’s something in his tone that Mike doesn’t quite know how to place. Almost like he’s hiding something. But the moment is a little too perfect for him to press further, so he just accepts Will’s words with a smile that’s a little bit sad. At least, when they’re back in separate states, he can rest easy in the knowledge that Will misses him too.

Phase Three: The Dustin Conspiracy

The next morning commences day three: phase three. Mike has to admit that everything has gone surprisingly well so far, and when Dustin announces that it’s time for: “Christmas baking,” Mike is expecting today to go great. They stick on some Christmas music, pull a gingerbread recipe from a magazine, and get to work.

Of course, between the six of them, things rapidly devolve into chaos, as Lucas attempts to crack eggs, El tries to whip butter, and Dustin sits on the counter and calls instructions (“No, Lucas, don’t put the shell in-” “I’m not trying to put the shell in-” “Max that’s flour not sugar!” “And who died and made you head chef, Dustin?”).

Mike shoots Will a smile as they hunt around for the cookie cutters. “Our friends are so peaceful, aren’t they?”

“Oh, of course,” Will replies with a smirk. “So sweet and quiet.”

“Tender and mild,” Mike remarks as Silent Night plays over the speakers. They look at each other once more before bursting into a fit of laughter.

“Oh! Here.” Will pulls out a metal tin while Mike wipes tears from his eyes. “We haven’t used these since we were about six-years-old.”

“I remember that,” Mike says fondly. “We totally almost burnt down the kitchen.”

Will opens the tin and pulls out a reindeer cutter. “Yeah, we left them in the oven for too long and you cried like a baby.”

Mike rolls his eyes. “Okay, did you miss the part where we were six-years-old?”

Will grins at him. “But you were so sweet though. You forced yourself to eat a whole cookie because you were so worried that I would be upset if you didn’t like them.”

Mike busies himself with unpacking the tin, feeling a little embarrassed. “I didn’t want you to be disappointed.”

“Wow, that’s weirdly nice of you, Mike,” Max says jokingly. “Where was that attitude when I came along?”

Mike flushes at her words, not realizing the rest of the room was listening in. It’s not often that he or Will share stories from before the party, when it was just the two of them, but he knows that Dustin and Lucas are always keenly interested. Sure enough, Lucas chimes in,

“Tell us more stories, Will.”

“Yeah, tell us baby Mike stories!” El’s face is bright with intrigue. “I want to hear.”

“Oh, sure,” Mike grumbles. “What, is it Embarrass Mike Day today?”

“Oh, come on,” Will pouts, and for a moment Mike does feel like a child again, as if he’s got six-year-old Will staring back at him. “Just one?”

Mike rolls his eyes and relents with a waved hand. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

He sets about stirring the ingredients together, because someone has to (what even is nutmeg?), while Will starts telling a story. Thankfully, it’s only about the one time that Will accompanied the Wheeler’s on vacation, and nothing too embarrassing.

As he fumbles his way through the recipe, he relaxes a little. He’s missed Will’s storytelling voice - it reminds him of the rare occasions when he would agree to be Dungeon Master. He can tell by the reactions of his friends, that they too are a little entranced. It’s not often that Will lets himself go like this, and really gets into something, but it certainly is a sight to behold. With the gingerbread dough done, Mike leans an elbow on the counter and rests his gaze back on Will. They lock eyes for a moment, and Will gives him a brilliant smile that makes his stomach flip. By the time the story ends, Mike has rolled out the dough and used the cookie cutters to make (slightly messy) reindeers and gingerbread men. 

“So, I guess you’ve always been this stupidly earnest,” says Max. Mike considers the assessment. It’s something that Will has actually said to him before, albeit in a much nicer way. That one of his favorite things about Mike is how he acts with so much sincerity and conviction no matter the situation. 

“Guess so,” he replies, shooting a sideways glance at Will, who is still smiling at him. “Let’s get these in the oven.” He gestures to the tray. “And, let’s not forget to take them out, this time.”

Will laughs and grabs the tray off the bench. “We can’t have you crying again, can we?”

They smile at each other for a second, reminiscing. 

Of course, the moment is ruined when Dustin opens up the tin of cinnamon and tips it onto Will’s head.

“Dustin!” Will splutters, as powder rains down all over his hair and his sweater. “What was that for?”

“Oops,” Dustin says innocently. “Slipped.”

Mike waves his hand in front of his face and coughs slightly as cinnamon powder works its way into his lungs. He shoots a glare at Dustin, taking Will’s arm and walking him to the sink.

“Don’t open your eyes,” he warns. “It’s like, all over your face.”

He wets a paper towel and goes to hand it to Will, but he catches Dustin miming something out of the corner of his eye. A very over the top charade of him pretending to wipe something of El’s face, who is giggling in the corner. Mike rolls his eyes but gets the picture.

“Okay, hold still,” he says to Will, before gently wiping the towel over his eyelids. Feeling a little self-conscious under four sets of eyes he sends them all a glare over his shoulder.

“Would you lot do something useful? Like wipe up the mess? Or put the biscuits in the oven?”

They spring into action with sheepish grins, grabbing more paper towels to wipe cinnamon off the floor and benches, and Lucas shoves the baking tray into the oven.

“Am I good yet?” Will asks him. Mike wipes his face a few more times.

“Think so.” Will’s hazel eyes blink open and he sends Mike a grateful smile, before shaking his hair out like a dog. Mike laughs and grabs him by the arm to steady him when he gets a little dizzy.

Will blows his fringe out of his face and holds his arms out as if presenting himself for inspection. “Better?”

Mike looks at him consideringly. “I think you need a new jumper.”

Will makes a face and goes to pull his ruined jumper off.

“Just chuck it in the laundry,” Mike says. “I’ll grab you a new one.”

He runs up the stairs and into his room, spotting Will’s suitcase on the floor next to the bed. He pauses for a moment, considering, before turning to his own wardrobe and pulling out a forest green sweater that Nancy got him last Christmas, that has on it a little dinosaur wearing a Santa hat. He grins to himself. Perfect.

When he comes back downstairs, Will is apparently in the bathroom. Mike rounds on Dustin immediately. “What was up with that?”

Dustin gives him a knowing look. “It was the perfect plan, that’s what’s up. Close physical contact plus helping someone in a time of need? That’s a recipe for love if I’ve ever heard it.” Then, he points down at the sweater in Mike’s hands. “And that is definitely your jumper, you wore it last Christmas. Sharing clothes is romantic trope number one.”

Mike squints at him. “You sound like a conspiracy theorist. Or like you’ve read too many romance novels.”

Dustin just shrugs benignly and Will re-enters the kitchen, hair dripping.

“Dude, what did you do?” Lucas asks.

Will grimaced. “Stuck my head under the tap. I thought it would be a good way to get rid of the cinnamon.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” says Dustin. 

Will sends him a look. “Sure you are.”

Mike hands him the jumper, and Will doesn’t say anything about the fact that it’s not his. 

“Well.” Dustin claps his hands, looking pleased. “Let’s check on those cookies, shall we?”

Later on, when the party has left and Mike and Will are curled up in bed (yes, Mike didn’t feel the need to remind Will that the sleeping bags were now dry, and no, Will didn’t feel the need to ask), Will brings up the jumper thing. He’s still got it on, as the weather is just cold enough to wear sweaters to bed. 

“So, this isn’t mine,” he says, tweaking the neckline. 

Mike scrambles for an excuse. “Uh, I couldn’t find your suitcase?”

Will looks at him disbelievingly.  

“I mean, I couldn’t find a jumper inside your suitcase?”

Will smiles. “It’s okay, Mike. I like this jumper.”

“Oh. Right.” Mike can’t stop himself from adding: “It looks good on you.”

Will says nothing, just ducks his head a little so it sits below Mike’s face. Mike suspects that he’s hiding a blush, which makes him ridiculously happy. And yep, sure enough, when Will pulls back his cheeks are slightly flushed. 

“Your hair still smells like cinnamon,” Mike whispers.

Will grins and promptly shoves his head under Mike’s nose again. Mike pushes him gently away and sneezes. “God,” he says, eyes watering. “Dustin really did a number on you.”

Will shrugs, running his hand through his hair so it sits back off his forehead. “I like cinnamon.”

“You’re going to make my sheets smell,” Mike complains, although he really doesn’t mind.

“Yeah, and everytime you go to sleep, you’ll have good memories. That’s how olfaction works, right? You’ll smell a good smell and have nice dreams.”

Mike laughs. “Okay, nerd. When did you swallow a biology textbook? I’ll be sure to sniff my pillows real hard after you’re gone so I dream of you.”

Will smiles back, and Mike’s only half-joking, because the scent lingers in his nose and he’s sure that from now on cinnamon is only ever going to remind him of Will. 

They settle down into the bed, and even after just two nights, Mike doesn’t hesitate to draw Will closer when he curls his body around Mike’s. 

“Christmas Eve tomorrow,” he whispers. “You excited?"

He feels Will nod against his chest. “Yeah. I kind of like Christmas Eve better than Christmas Day. Just the anticipation of it all.” His words are blurry with sleep, so Mike just hums in response. 

Will whispers a goodnight, and Mike just about whispers one back before he too drifts off, the scent of cinnamon in his nose. And you know what? That night he does have good dreams. 

Phase Four (Suprise Edition): El’s Wisdom Saves The Day

Mike, Will, and El spend Christmas Eve morning babysitting Holly, and really, Mike doesn’t think he’s ever seen a more adorable sight than Will teaching his little sister how to draw. They lounge about the living room floor, eating candy canes with the radio on, and Mike spends most of the morning with a dopey smile on his face, which El definitely teased him about, but he’s far too gone on the whole situation to really care. Of course, when she drags him into the kitchen under the pretense of getting snacks, he starts to care a little more.

“What are you doing?” Blunt and straight to the point, as she always is.

“What do you mean?” Mike tries to dodge the question. “We’re babysitting Holly.”

El sends him a pointed look that Mike just knows she’s picked up from Max. “I mean, what are you doing with Will?”

“Oh, that.” Mike struggles for an answer. “I don’t really know.” Truthfully, there have been half a dozen times over the past few days where Mike thought that Will was going to say something to him. He had been hoping that something would be Will confessing his feelings because after all, Will had always been the brave one.

“The plans,” El prompts. “Have they been working?”

Mike fills up a glass with juice for her, and then for himself, just to give his hands something to do. “I think so,” he says slowly. “I mean we keep having all these moments.”

“Moments?”

“Yeah, like, when we were ice skating, or even last night when we watched that movie, he put his head on my shoulder.”

El sips her juice. “You want to know what I think?”

“Always.”

“I think plans are stupid. And we’re not stupid.”

“Well,” Mike says, thinking of the party. “We’re probably a little stupid.”

El giggles. “No, I mean that you don’t need a plan. Will’s my brother, and I know he is brave, but he will never tell you how he feels without you bringing it up first.”

“Well, maybe if I drop enough hints-”

“Hints?” El makes a face of disgust. “No hints. I hate hints. I wish people would just say how they feel, all the time. It would make everything so much easier.”

And Mike has to agree. “So, you think I should just confess? Just say it?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Okay, but what if he doesn’t like me back?” Although a lot of his doubt had been washed away this week, Mike can’t help the little bit that remains.

El’s tone is gentle when she speaks. “Mike, none of that matters. Will loves you and he is always going to be your best friend. Even if he doesn’t feel the same, he won’t be angry. He would never be angry with you. You should just tell him.”

And that’s probably the most reassuring thing Mike has ever heard in his life.

“God, when did you get so wise?” He nudges El with his elbow.

El grins. “I’ve always been wise.” And for a moment, she seems so different to that little girl Mike had once hid in his basement.

“California’s been really good for you, huh?”

El nods. “Yes, it really has.” Then she pauses. “But I would still come back to Hawkins, if I could.”

“Really? Even after everything bad that’s happened here?”

“Hawkins is my home,” she says simply. “The first place I ever had a family. You, Max, Lucas, Dustin.” She floats her juice out of her glass and sends the bubble of liquid floating up towards the ceiling. “And now Will is my family, too. And I had brothers and sisters before, but they weren’t the same. Will and Jonathan and Joyce. They’re my family.” The juice falls back into the glass with a splash. “Me and Will have talked a lot. Helped each other. We understand each other. And I think we could do it - move back here.”

“Yeah?” Mike feels a little emotional. Not just about El and how free she’s become, but about the possibility that the Byers could once again call Hawkins their home.

“Yes. We’ve come a long way, Mike.”

He nods. “Yeah. Me too.”

They share a smile, and despite all their teasing and their hijinks, Mike feels truly grateful to have such great friends.

Then the doorbell rings and he hears Max shout, “Wheeler, open up. We’re freezing out here,” and the moment is effectively ruined. 

He sends an exasperated glance at El. “Can’t get one moment of peace around here.” 

The doorbell rings again, and El grins and runs into the hallway. “Who needs peace when you have friends?” she calls over her shoulder.

Mike supposes that’s true. The parents arrive back home a few minutes after the party, so he’s able to give Holly back to them, and join the others in the basement. Mrs Byers pokes her head in after a few moments and pulls El and Will away for ‘family stuff’, whatever that means. And with Will gone, so is Mike’s safety shield and the interrogation starts immediately.

“So, what’s been happening-”

“The ice skating was totally romantic. You guys looked like you were on an actual date-”

“I know that the sleeping bags are still in the laundry, Wheeler, so don’t even deny that my plan worked-”

“Okay, everyone shut up,” he says loudly. He tries to summarize. “Nothing has happened, ice skating was fun, don’t even talk to me about sleeping bags, and no, Dustin, cinnamon in the face is absolutely not romantic.”

“Hey, let’s not forget that there wouldn’t even be a plan, if not for me. Cinnamon or no cinnamon, I deserve credit.”

Mike makes a face. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Nothing’s even happened yet.”

“But you’ve shared a bed, right?” Max asks, leaning forward. “And Will is definitely not wearing his own jumper.”

“You held hands, basically all day at the ice skating rink. That has to mean something-”

“Okay, okay,” Mike holds his hands up, somewhat regretting even getting himself into this situation. “If something does happen - and that’s an if, I’ll let you know. Now, can we lay off the questioning? I feel like I’m in one of my mom’s rom-coms.”

“The fact that you even know what a rom-com is tells me everything I need to know,” says Max.

Mike flips her off.

“Mike!” Will’s voice travels down to the basement. “Come up here for a second?”

Lucas grins. “Better go see what he wants, huh?”

“Yeah, have fun up there, loverboy-”

“No, Dustin, absolutely not.”

Mike scurries up the stairs, feeling a little relieved to escape the questioning (and Dustin’s horrifying nicknames). He passes El on the way up. “Any idea what’s up?”

Her eyes gleam. “Good news, I think.”

That bodes surprisingly well, so Mike runs up the rest of the stairs, taking them too at a time. In the front hallway, Will is waiting for him.

“What’s up?”

Will doesn’t say anything, just grabs Mike’s arm and pulls him outside onto the back porch. 

“Okay,” Mike laughs, as he follows. “What’s going on?”

Will pulls the back door shut, and turns to Mike. He’s beaming, eyes alight, and Mike suddenly thinks that this is it. His efforts over the past few days haven’t gone unnoticed. And Will’s about to tell him that he feels the same. That he likes him. Will opens his mouth to speak, and Mike’s heart just about jumps out of his chest.

“We’re moving back to Hawkins!” Will bursts out, looking giddy with happiness.

And…that’s not what Mike expected. His heart dampens a bit in disappointment, before he actually processes the words that Will said, and it speeds right back up again. “What?”

“Yeah! We decided just then. Well, officially decided - we’ve been talking about it for months and I wanted to tell you so bad, but I didn’t want to get your hopes up just in case - but we’re doing it. We’re moving back.” 

The excitement in Will’s voice is palpable and Mike can’t help the reflexive smile that slides onto his face.

“This holiday, it was sort of like a trial run,” Will continues, a little less breathless than before. “To see if we could do it - you know, to see if me and El were okay. Make sure we don't feel anything, anymore.”

Mike nodded slowly, still feeling a little speechless.

“And we didn’t. So, we’re doing it. Just in time for senior year, too.”

And suddenly, Mike feels as if all his worries have evaporated. It was a quiet whisper of fear that he hadn’t expressed to any of his friends, when they first came up with the plan. That maybe, just maybe, if all of this worked, and Will did love him back, he would only end up going back to California and they wouldn’t even get to be together. Not properly. But now? The very thing he had wished for, ever since the Byers’ first moved away, was coming true. 

Will’s still looking at him, eyes bright and hopeful, face plastered with a smile that makes Mike’s heart jolt. Distantly, he hears his friends' voices in his head. Dustin’s bold, ‘what’s the worst that could possibly happen?’ Lucas’ dry, ‘assuming, of course, that he’s not already in love with you.’ Max’s - well, Max’s voice is less of a voice and more of a very pointed look. And lastly, El’s gentle and understanding, ‘you should just tell him.’

“Mike.” Will’s voice is a little hesitant. “Everything okay?”

And Mike means to say something reassuring and celebratory, he really does. He means to tell Will how excited he is that he’ll finally be coming home. Instead, his mouth moves without any input from his brain.

“I love you,” he blurts. No bells and whistles, no ribbons or wrapping. Just that, plain and simple. I love you. 

He looks up at Will, trying to gauge his reaction. Good or bad, he just needs to know what he thinks. Will’s face however, is schooled into a polite sort of confusion.

“Uh, I love you, too?” 

And it hits Mike, that Will, in all his unwillingness to make any assumptions, doesn’t quite grasp his meaning.

“No, that’s not what I mean,” Mike manages, heart pounding. “I mean - of course, I love you, but I really mean that I love love you. Like I’m in love with you.”

And now Will’s face shows his feelings, eyebrows raised slightly in shock, mouth parted, eyes wide in a mix of confusion that moves to understanding that moves to something akin to affection.

“Romantically.” Mike feels the need to clarify. “I mean in a romantic sense.”

“Oh,” Will says softly. And then they both just stare at each other for a moment, and Mike feels like if Will doesn’t say something right now then he will actually explode.

Will takes a little step closer, and Mike hones in on his mouth, telling himself it’s only because if Will speaks, his non-existent powers of lipreading will allow him to understand quicker, just what he is saying. But Will’s mouth doesn’t start forming a sentence. Instead, it just moves closer, and closer, and closer, until he’s hovering just an inch away from Mike’s lips. Suddenly, Mike tears his eyes away from Will’s mouth (which looks soft and pink and oh, so kissable) and up to meet his gaze. 

“Hi,” he whispers, and Will’s eyes crinkle in amusement.

“Hey.” Will shifts closer still, bracketing Mike against the porch railing with his arms.

“This is…cozy.” Mike mentally slaps himself for the awkwardness of that comment, but Will is huffing out a laugh that he can feel brush against his lips, and all rational thoughts disappear from his brain.

“Mike?” Will breathes, voice barely more than a whisper. Mike doesn’t think he’s managed a reply, but Will continues on anyway. “I love you, too.”

Then Will tilts his head forward, just a little bit more, and kisses him. And any semblance of sanity that Mike has left in his brain immediately melts into a puddle and seeps out of his body and between the porch floorboards. Will’s kiss is somehow exactly what Mike expected. It’s just Will. Soft and sweet, but also sure of itself, with a hand reaching up to gently hold Mike’s jaw. He tastes of peppermint, like the candy canes they were just eating, and his lips are warm. He eases Mike back against the railing, and Mike lets him, sure that if Will’s other hand wasn’t holding his waist, he would currently be collapsed on the floor. 

When Will pulls back, Mike feels in a daze. He vaguely registers that Will is saying something to him, and pulls enough power back into his brain to ask: “What? Sorry, what did you say?”

Will gives him a knowing little grin, like he is well-aware of the effect he is having. “I asked if this is why you’ve been acting so weird? Not just you, but everyone.”

“Oh,” Mike says, cheeks flushing. “Maybe a little bit. We were kind of trying to make you fall in love with me - we had a whole plan and everything. Three steps.”

“Three whole steps?” Will teases. “Well, too bad the whole thing was unnecessary, because I’ve been in love with you for years.”

Mike pretends that he doesn’t hear the amazed little giggle that exits his own voice box. “Lucas said something like that. That the plan assumed that you weren’t already in love with me.”

“Ah, yeah, he kind of already knew,” Will admits sheepishly.

“What ? He knew?”

“Well, falling in love at eleven-years-old is a big deal! I had to tell someone, and it’s not like I could talk to you, so Lucas seemed like a good option.”

Mike shakes his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe he knew this whole time.”

“Yeah, we’ve had a lot of phone calls about it,” Will says. And then Mike pauses, as he realizes something.

“Eleven-years-old? You fell in love with me when you were eleven-years-old?”

Will flushes. “Um, yeah. It’s been a long time, I know, but-”

“I was ten,” Mike cuts him off, and Will blinks up at him. “I was ten when I fell in love with you.”

“Oh,” Will breathes. Then his face breaks out into a grin and he pokes Mike in the ribs. “So, you totally fell first. I am never going to let you live that down.”

And then he darts forward once more to place a quick kiss on Mike’s lips. When he goes to pull back, Mike grabs onto the front of his sweater - no, Mike’s sweater, that Will is still wearing - and holds him in place. He feels Will smile against his lips for a moment, before he obliges and kisses Mike again. 

Mike lets his brain go fuzzy and focuses on the smooth, warm movements of Will’s mouth. He lets himself get swept away on the wave that’s crashing through his body, making his stomach feel pleasantly warm, and his skin tingle. Where Will learnt to kiss like this, Mike has no idea, but he isn’t complaining. When Will pulls back, Mike has to physically stop himself from chasing his lips again, and Will huffs out a little laugh.

He feels as if a million thoughts should be racing through his brain right now - he should be trying to process the wave of happy emotion he is currently feeling, but instead when he opens his mouth, all he manages to say is: “Kiss me again?”

And yep, he supposes that just about sums up the only coherent thing in his head right now. Luckily, Will obliges, and tilts his chin up to capture Mike’s lips in another kiss. And wow, it’s just as head-swimmingly good as the last two, and Mike knows he is never going to get sick of this feeling. Will retreats though, after only a brief moment and bumps his forehead gently against Mike’s.

“We should probably head back inside. The others will be wondering where we are.”

Mike’s about to protest, but then he thinks about everyone coming looking and finding them kissing on the porch, and makes a face. He doesn’t think he could stand the smug looks.

“Yeah,” he agrees, tangling Will’s hand in his own. “Let’s head back inside.”

He lets Will pull him towards the basement, and they pause on the stairs. Will holds up their joined hands. “Should we just tell them now? Get it over with?”

Mike’s about to agree, when another thought occurs to him. He looks at Will with a conspiring grin. “Or, we could make our own plan.”

Understanding blooms on Will’s face and he grins wickedly (and damn, if mischievous is not a good look on him). After a few minutes of planning, they push open the basement door, hands still joined. The chattering of their friends grinds to a halt, and Mike can see four sets of eyes look at his and Will’s hands, and then look frantically at each other.

“We have news,” Will says brightly, pulling Mike down onto the couch, so close he’s almost sitting in his lap. The others glance at each other once more, before jumping into a flurry of motion. Dustin drops the VHS tapes he was holding, Lucas and Max hurry over from where they were chatting by the window, and El releases her hold on the Millenium Falcon toy she was hovering, letting it drop to the ground with a crash. All four scramble over furniture items to come sit, stand, and kneel in front of the couch, and Mike feels vaguely like he’s a kindergarten teacher about to read a storybook. He nudges Will’s arm and asks: “Ready?”

Will nods and looks across at them all, pausing for a long moment to let the tension build. “Okay. Our news is…”

He stalls for an unbearably long time, so Mike pinches his side, wanting him to just spit it out so they can get their friends' reactions.

“Okay, okay. We’re moving back to Hawkins!”

“What?”

“That’s your news?”

“But what about-” El catches on quickly, and shuts Dustin up with an elbow to the side.

“Yes! That’s the big news,” she says, standing up and shoving herself onto the armrest of the couch next to Will. She slings her arm around his shoulder. “We’re moving back! For senior year.” She glances down at everyone’s shocked faces. “Well, aren’t you all pleased?”

Immediately, the rest of the party scramble out their happy responses. Max jumps up and squeals, wrapping El into a hug as Lucas and Dustin do the same to Will. Due to their proximity, Mike gets an elbow or two in the ribs and he shoves both of them off. 

“Okay, okay,” he laughs. He slides his hand onto Will’s leg and grins internally at the way Dustin’s eyes boggle. “Glad you’re all so pleased.”

Will leans forward and rests his chin on a hand, face breaking into a cheeky smile. “You all seemed so shocked. I mean, what other news were you possibly expecting?” Then he slides his hand into Mike’s where it’s resting in his lap, with a big exaggerated movement that draws everyone’s attention.

Lucas stares at Will, as if attempting to telepathically communicate. Will just stares at Mike who, in turn, stares at Dustin, who stares at El, who stares (and probably succeeds in telepathically communicating) at Max, who stares back at Lucas. 

Max is the first one to break the silence. “You’re fucking with us, aren’t you?”

And that’s enough to send Mike into a fit of laughter.

At once, four voices break into excited chatter. 

“I told you, Mike. Didn’t I say that this was a good idea-” 

“I know that my plan worked best. Ice skating is the perfect date-”

“Oh, come on, Lucas, you seriously think yours was the best? The sleeping bags are literally still in the laundry-”

“Okay, okay, okay,” Will laughs. “Everyone calm down.”

“So,” says El. “Are you dating now?”

Mike glances sideways at Will, feeling a little embarrassed by all the attention. And by the fact that they hadn’t actually taken the time to decide on that answer. But Will smoothes away his worries with a quick nod of his head.

“Yeah, but you don’t have to make a big deal of it.”

“Are you kidding? This is a huge deal-”

“You so owe us, Mike. This whole plan was a huge success-”

Mike sees Will’s confusion and leans over to give him a brief overview of the whole plan thing. “It’s kind of embarrassing, really,” he mutters at the end.

Will sends him a bright smile. “Nah. It’s kind of sweet.”

Max mimes vomiting at them, so Mike throws a pillow at her.

“So, Will, enlighten us. Did our plans work?”

Will contemplates. “Well, Lucas’ definitely. Max’s was a nice addition. Dustin - your plan was just chaos and I’m still finding cinnamon in my hair.”

“Hey-” Dustin tries to object, but Mike cuts him off.

“El’s plan worked the best.”

The others look around at each other in disbelief. “What? El didn’t even have a plan, she helped with mine,” says Max.

El smiles from her perch next to Will. “My plan was the best plan, because it wasn’t a plan.”

“She basically told me just suck it up and get it over with,” Mike explains. “Really, someone should have said something sooner.”

“We tried-”

“You wouldn’t hear a word of it-”

“Oh, so now you’re capable of talking to Will like a normal person-”

Will ducks his head down to stage-whisper in Mike’s ear. “They’re just so supportive, aren’t they?”

“Truly, we have incredible friends.”

Will laughs and wraps an arm around El. “Well, I definitely have an incredible sister.”

And honestly, the whole moment is so incredibly saccharine that if Mike was surrounded by any other group of people, he would have found the entire thing obnoxious. But he supposes that they are a bunch of sixteen-year-olds at the end of the day, and this has been a long time coming, so he sits back and lets the conversation wash over him.

After the chaos dies down a bit, Dustin brings back their attention to what is really, the most important question.

“Wait, so, you weren’t joking before right? With the whole distraction bit? You really are moving back to Hawkins?”

Will and El exchange glances. “Yeah, we are,” Will says. “The lab and the Upside Down - it’s all gone now. And it’s been long enough that El won’t be in danger, and long enough that living here doesn’t feel like a nightmare, anymore. So, yeah. We’re moving back.”

Will’s words bring the tone down just a notch, and Mike finds himself feeling silently grateful as the high-strung energy seeps out of the room. 

Max gives a firm nod and turns to El. “It’s going to be okay. In fact, it’s going to be great. And nothing’s happened for almost two years. You’ll be safe.”

“I know we will,” El says. “I’m sure of it.”

They all settle a little as the news sinks in. Lucas pulls El into a celebratory hug, and Dustin beams around at them all. 

“The party,” he proclaims with grandeur. “We were once apart, but now: together once more.”

Everyone collectively rolls their eyes (“Dustin, stop being pretentious-” “You seriously have got to start talking normally-” “You’re so overdramatic-”).

But the message sinks in nonetheless. The party is back, and they’re back for good. Mike grins to himself and nudges Will in the side. 

“Worthwhile trip, right?” he whispers. “And it’s not even Christmas Day yet.”

“Like I said,” Will whispers back. “Christmas Eve is always so much better.”

And he’s right. Between the overlapping chatter of his friends, the faint sound of Christmas music and wine glasses clinking from upstairs, the way Will is sitting next to him, their ankles tangled together, Hawkins has never felt more like home. 

[l1v1ngd3dgrrl]

Bestie pls hear me out 😩😩 your work on ao3 is mind blowing AMAZING! If you are taking requests can you write like a Daisuke/reader fic where they’ve been trying to sleep together (secret relationship type deal) but they’ve been getting cockblocked by every member of the crew until they finally get time of their own with pent up feelings

AN: I audibly gasped when i read this request, anon your miiiiiind. Fuck yeah let's do it! Also thank you for enjoying my work aaaaaaaaa, it makes me so giddy when i get comments like that! thank you for your patience <3

Alone Together [Daisuke x Reader]

word count: 2,503

Cw(s):getting cockblocked/sexual tension, Daisuke gets a little rough here and doesn't pull out, usage of babe/my girl, soft dom Daisuke(?), Shitty attempt at dirty talk again because ya ghoul cannot write it well at all. Leg locking?

Continuing my contributions to the Freaksuke agenda <- that is a joke, please don't get mad at me. I may have gotten a lil too carried away with this one (sweats)

MDNI banner: Cafekitsune.

Having a secret relationship wasn't something you ever imagined yourself doing. Especially with one of your co-workers. You've worked at Pony Express for about 3 years now, and never really found yourself drooling over anyone in your crew. (Okay there was that ONE time you thought Curly was really hot but that's over and done with.) It was unprofessional and would make things awkward.

That sentiment flew out of the window when you met the newest member joining you for this Haul, Daisuke was the new 22 year old intern working with Swansea. Unsurprisingly Swansea made it very clear from day one that he wasn't thrilled with it, which did affect him negatively causing him to be pretty shy when talking with the rest of the crew. Over time he warmed up to everyone, eagerness similar to a a cartoon protagonist at times but in the most endearing way.

Now this little (at the time) one-sided crush didn't happen all at once, It was about a month into your haul when you noticed that you'd get butterflies in your stomach whenever you heard him talk, laugh or do literally anything. He could breathe and you would just stare at him like he hung the moon. It was an interesting display on your part, hopefully he didn't catch you staring and think you were weird.

By the third month he let it slip that he thought you were attractive. The exact way he confessed it was a little hard to remember but it was in the dorkiest way possible-lots of fumbling of words and finger guns. Ever since then you two begun dating in secret.

The hardest part about all of this was trying to get more intimate. There were only a certain amount of places you two could do it with the lowest risk of getting caught. No place was truly 100% risk free, which became increasingly obvious when you kept getting cockblocked by everyone.

First it was Anya, as sweet as she is you slightly resent her for scaring the living hell out of you when she needed Daisuke for his psyche eval. She didn't see anything, and it's not like you two were actually fucking but you were pretty close to doing so. The sudden knocking on the door killed the mood and startled both of you.

"Another time, I promise." Is what he whispered before placing a kiss on your lips.

The second incident was when you paid a visit to Daisuke in the utility room, completely innocent at first. You had to run a binder to him. When Swansea grunted out that he was going on break and to not linger too long and distract him that's when the tension in the air boiled over. Alas, much like last time you two didn't get very far and had to scramble to get yourselves decent before Swansea could barge in and lecture the both of you.

"Next time we won't get interrupted?" he awkwardly said, not fully convinced in his own words.

The third time the two of you were giggling and placing heated kisses on each others skin, on your way to your sleeping quarters. Clothes were discarded on the floor and hands were wandering over bare skin, maybe this time was finally the time you didn't get interrupted.

The sound of a very grouchy Jimmy banging on your door for you to "Shut the fuck up and go to sleep." caused you to audibly groan in frustration. "Fine-Fine!, Just go away!"

Daisuke looked as if he was about to cry.

And of course the breaking point for the both of you was when your captain of all people almost caught you. Frustration was starting to eat both of you whole.

It was one night when everyone had gone to bed earlier than usual did Daisuke pull you into his sleeping quarters, kissing your skin feverishly and panting like a dog. "I can't hold off much longer please," he whined. "I don't even care if we get caught or whatever." You agreed wholeheartedly.

It's been nearly a whole month since the two of you had sex. yikes. You were probably more worked up than he is.

"We should at least move the desk in front of the door-as a precaution y'know?" you murmured. Daisuke nodded eagerly and rushed over to move the piece of furniture in front of the door.

It wasn't the heaviest thing in the world, but it often took you a bit to move it by yourself. Daisuke on the other hand was moving it with ease as if it weighed nothing. Hot.

After the desk was moved he turned to you and began pulling his shirt over his head, careful to avoid snagging it on his earrings.

This was your cue to do the same, you gripped the hem of your shirt and began to peel it over your head. In the split second that your vision was blocked by the fabric Daisuke had taken it upon himself to drop to his knees and start placing kisses down your now exposed abdomen. You giggled, the feeling of the kisses tickled and felt odd.

Once your shirt was fully off he stood back up and kissed you again, walking you towards your bed. Your knees hit the side of the mattress and both of you dropped backwards. He moved his knees on either side of your hips, as he sat back on his haunches eyeing you over wordlessly. "You're so hot." he blurted out. You giggled and pulled him in for another kiss. "I know."

Both of you didn't know where to start, there was an awkward pause as you both sat in silence thinking about what you wanted the most. You took the lead and reached over to his pants, palm instantly going over and rubbing him through his jeans. His hips jerk forward briefly and he groans, eyes rolling back.

It's dark, but you can feel the pre starting to seep into the fabric beneath your palm. Warm and slightly sticky. You bite your lip and wrap your hand around the bulge and proceed to jerk him the best you can through the denim. His breathing is starting to get heavier, huffing and groaning as he clutches the blanket underneath the both of you.

"I want more-fuck I need more." he says, heavy with want. You give him a firm squeeze before bringing your hand up to unbutton his jeans. With Shakey hands he helps you, happy to finally ease this tension. His pants hit the floor with a quiet plop and he's left in his boxers, the front of them wet with his arousal. "Lay back on the bed." You command gently, he obliges wordlessly.

This time you're the one on top, your knees spread on either side of his legs and kissing down his abdomen like he had done to you minutes prior, stopping once you reach his boxers. His breath hitches and you tug the fabric down. His erection springs free and he winces slightly at the temperature change.

You take him into your palm, thumb spreading the pre down his shaft as lubrication and pump him a few times. On the bed Daisuke grips the blanket and lets his jaw fall slack. You lean foreword and take him into your mouth, slowly bobbing your head.

He keens and sits up ever so slightly, propping himself on his elbows. He likes the way your cheeks hollow around him, the feeling of your tongue as it spirals around the tip and then down this length. Before things could go too far he stops you, and you let out a disapproving whine.

"You deserve some action too." he says, his thumb coming up to wipe away some saliva on your lip. "I mean yeah, But I was having fun." He rolls his eyes and pulls you in for a kiss.

"Let me take care of you for a bit."

"ugh fine." you playfully groan. You stand up and drop your bottoms, much to Daisuke's surprise you weren't wearing underwear. "Nice." he grins and you lightly smack him on the shoulder.

He has you lay down beside him, legs spread and his hand trailing up your thighs. His fingers trace up your slit and he grins, "Wow you're like really wet right now."

"Can you blame me?" you ask, drawing in a shaky breath as rubs small circles on your clit.

"I can't," he presses wet kisses to your neck. "And I won't." His fingers begin to work inside you now, curling as he moves. You let out a low moan and spread your legs just a bit further.

He continues, relishing in the soft gasps and moans he draws out of you. Once he hits that one specific spot that makes you cry out he smirks and focuses on it, fingers pumping in and out of you faster. You're moans get a little too loud and he gently covers your mouth with his palm.

"I love hearing you, but I think I would actually die if we get interrupted again." He pulls his palm away and replaces it with his lips, groaning as you whine into the kiss.

His movements continue, and as you draw closer to your boiling point his movements cease. He pulls his fingers from you and pulls away from the kiss. Now it's your turn to protest, you were almost there!

Before you can even say anything Daisuke is moving to where he's hovering over you, elbows pressed into the stiff mattress. "Did you want it this way babe, or did you have another position in mind?"

"Lemme ride."

"You got it."

He trades places with you, laying on his back yet again and caressing your hips as you line up with his cock. You sink down on him slowly, biting your lips to suppress a moan. Daisuke has no intentions of quieting himself. "Hoh fuck-" He sucks in a sharp breath once he was fully sheathed inside you.

He holds onto your hips with an almost bruising grip, careful not to hurt you. You begin to rise and fall into his lap, skin meeting skin with a 'plap' sound. Quiet moans and gasps pour past your lips as you continue to ride him, the long over due feeling of feeling full is almost too intense.

Beneath you Daisuke is slack jawed, eyes darting between your face and where the two of you meet. Despite the obvious pleasure he's experiencing it's obvious that he's wanting more, clearly holding back something.

You lean down and graze the shell of his ear with your lips, the feeling of your breath so close sends a shiver down his spine and goosebumps to form on his skin.

"You don't have to hold back." You whisper, You sit back up to look at his face. His eyes widen. "Wait what?"

"Don't hold back, You're super tense right now."

He swallows thickly and his hands squeeze tighter on your hips. "I would but like-" he pauses and bites his lip. "I don't wanna hurt you."

You snort and roll your eyes. "If I didn't think I could handle it I wouldn't have asked." For a moment he just stares blankly, the cogs in his brain turning.

"Meaning..?"

"Meaning I want you to give it to me," You grasp his jaw lightly in one hand and tilt his head up to look directly at you. "Hard."

In an instant his demeanor does a 180 and a wicked grin stretches across his face. "Say less."

His feet press into the mattress and he begins thrusting up, pace brutal. You yelp and grip the sheet below you. "Daisuke!" He merely chuckles and continues, his hands pulling you down to meet his thrusts.

This side of him is something you thought you would never see. Not that you thought he was 'weak' or submissive or anything, he just didn't seem like the type. Though when you're constantly being cockblocked by your crewmates emotions get bottled up quick.

Your eyes roll back as he continues thrusting, jaw falling slack and letting any and all noises flow freely. Somehow it felt like he was deeper, his cock hit new spots in you and you thought you were gonna see stars. The room is filled with the bed creaking and the sound of your bodies slapping together, there's no way that the others didn't hear you.

Suddenly he pauses, gasping for breath below you.

"Tapping out?" You ask snapping out of your daze. "Not yet, Might need to change positions though." He eases you backwards, hovering over you as your back hits the mattress for a second time. He lines himself back up with your pussy and pushes in.

Instinctively your legs wrap around his waist and pull him closer. His hips draw back and he resumes thrusting, your body bounces with each push and pull. Over the various noises you hear him mumble praises out to you, how good you feel and how well you're taking him. You moan his name unabashedly, head falling backwards and eyes squinting shut. Without a doubt you were going to be sore tomorrow, the ache starting to set in now. You didn't care, it felt amazing.

"That's my girl." he pants, his hands gripping the sheets beside your head and thrusting even harder. "I can't last much longer, Where do you want it?"

Wordlessly you tighten your legs around his waist and lock eyes with him. He swears and nods. "There? you got it babe." With a few more sloppy thrusts he's spilling inside of you.

He stays buried as he catches his breath, his hand coming up to trace your jawline. "God, You're beautiful."

"You too." He leans down brushing his lips against yours and pressing a few slow deep kisses against them. After he pulls away you point to the nightstand next to you. "I should have some tissues in the drawer."

He looks down to where both of you meet and snorts. "Oh whoops, yeah almost forgot about that." He slides out of you, and you feel his cum start to ooze out. He opens the drawer and pulls out the tissues you mentioned, grabbing a handful and cleaning you up first. It won't get all of it, but it'll clean you up enough.

Once the clean up part is over he climbs back into bed with you, pulling you close. "I uh- wasn't too rough with you right?" he asks, brown doe eyes searching your face eagerly. "You weren't too rough I promise," You brush hair away from his face and smile. "I kinda liked it." His face flushes and he smiles awkwardly "I'm glad you did, not sure if I'd be able to do that all the time though."

"We could always hold off for another few months." you tease. "Please don't." he adds on quickly, "I think I would literally explode." You snort and kiss him. "I'm kidding!"

[rairecs]

title: so i told a friendly star (the way dreamers often do author: dwaekinyz rating: teen pairing: lee felix/seo changbin summary:

yong.lixxx i keep thinking about ur biceps  do u think i could get. A picture of them to stimulate the release of endorphins jutdwae dude  yong.lixxx i swear im normal jutdwae i thought so a second ago now im having my doubts

Desperate for a pick-me-up after a truly shitty day, Felix asks Changbin for pictures of his biceps to feel a bit better. Does it say something about Changbin that he finds the thought of it kind of sweet?

link

[tmos-time]

the amount of times i think about eridan finding excuses to call sollux darlin' or sweetheart astounds me <3 anyways day 1 prompt of honey for this years @erisolweek lmao

(and as a bonus, my favorite thumbnail sketches of eridan <3)

[sugisprout]

Huntershipping Holy Grail

My personal favourite huntershipping fics

(May be edited periodically to add new fics)

Blink back to let me know by fuwaesthetic (sweet but in like a peaceful way. To be loved is to be changed)

Afraid by Polyhexian (less shippy and more of a focus on silver not having a great time)

Something, Everything About You by ghostscribe (I love this one so much it’s amazing)

Kinda like fireworks by ghostscribe (so sweet and makes me super happy)

From pasio, with love by onigirikita (it’s a series with many huntershipping fics) (this is also tooth rotting fluff)

Mistakes Were Made by deamsgirl

Rebound by deamsgirl

Tell me it’s ok by racinu

Snow day by cerpiscool

Kicking in chairs and knocking down tables by daywalkerr

Glaciers melting in the dead of night by RivalAnon

The smell of fire in the morning by LittleMadStar