ěëĄëĽź 기ěľí ěěě ë ¸ëŤë§
Song of the stars, the stars with you
â°â⤠ella's navigation:
read here!
about me
Requests guidelines
I'd rather be in outer space đ¸
Game of Thrones Daily

shark vs the universe
YOU ARE THE REASON
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
Aqua Utopiaď˝ćľˇăŽĺşă§č¨ćśăç´Ąă

@theartofmadeline

titsay
Peter Solarz
Sweet Seals For You, Always
TVSTRANGERTHINGS

⣠Chile in a Photography âŁ
Monterey Bay Aquarium

çĽćĽ / Permanent Vacation

Kiana Khansmith
hello vonnie
wallacepolsom
will byers stan first human second

ellievsbear
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Australia
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom

seen from United States

seen from TĂźrkiye
seen from Libya

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Argentina

seen from United States

seen from Japan
seen from United Kingdom

seen from United States

seen from Australia
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
@csbenthusiast
ěëĄëĽź 기ěľí ěěě ë ¸ëŤë§
Song of the stars, the stars with you
â°â⤠ella's navigation:
read here!
about me
Requests guidelines
Over The Ocean
Pairing: Single Dad!Steve Harrington x Hopper!Reader
Summary: Before your father's wedding, you spend a day on the beach with your fake boyfriend, his friends, and his energetic daughter, Edie.
Word Count: 2.1k
Warnings: fluff, smut, 90s!AU, Steve wears a crop top and jorts, no description of physical appearance or biological relation to Hopper for reader insert, semi-public sex, Ronance, fake dating, Eddie is alive, Reader and Steve are neighbors in NYC, no use of y/n (they call Reader 'Hops' because Steve's daughter does)
A/N: I've been struggling to work on the long fic I'm writing with this pairing, so I decided to write something shorter and less plot heavy!
My inspiration for Steve's outfit in this fic | Inbox
This is the second time youâve wished you were actually dating Steve Harrington. Watching him splash around with Edie, face glowing as he stares down at his little girl like sheâs the most perfect thing heâs ever seen; you know in his eyes, she is. The sight warms your body more than the sunrays beating down on your skin.
Your desire isnât entirely pure. Steveâs outfit is what made you stare in the first place. Jean shorts that land a few inches above his knees, showing off his sturdy calves. And a sleeveless, gray top with a cropped hem, exposing the slight pudge of his stomach and the trail of hair crawling down it. The logo for the youth center baseball team Steve coaches cracking against the fabric, peeling up at the edges. Every time he lifts Edie into the air, his shirt goes up with her, revealing more of his body. Two large chunks of skin on his torso are scarred, pieces of flesh missing from the area. Theyâre almost entirely covered by his shirt when his arms drop back down.Â
đĽđđ đŹđ¨đŚđđđ¨đđ˛ đĽđ¨đŻđ đ˛đ¨đŽ
You ran out on Steve almost three years ago in the middle of a sweet fling, but now youâre back in Hawkins, and thereâs a little girl on your hip that looks just like him. fem, 14k
afab reader, second-chance romance, girl!dad steve, slow burn idiots, no upside down auÂ
â Ë・âŕ¨âĄŕ§â Ë・â
You realise how fucked you are pretty quickly.Â
Itâs something in the way the kid is looking at you. Heâs staring at you, not unfriendly but piercing, and his gaze keeps flicking to Leah like heâs trying to make sense of her, and his mouth is stuck obnoxiously with his tongue flat and pulled into that cruel letter âSâ.Â
You freeze up like youâve been caught, which doesnât help.Â
And the kid spins in his Nikeâs and races for the entrance, ditching a basket full of veggies and a pack of gum in the middle of the aisle.Â
âOkay, Lee,â you say, sweating despite the November chill. âLetâs get going.â
Leah grins in her seat in the shopping cart. âMeemawâs?â she asks.Â
âYeah. Letâs go make sure your meemaw had her dinner.â
Your ears ring all the way home. They donât stop ringing. You spend the night waiting for a phone call you donât get, awkward and clammy. Thereâs a certain way that rich families work in Indiana. You can see the coming hush money or the threat to leave town almost as clearly as you could see the loveless marriage years ago. You and Leah need to get out of dodge before youâre stuck having conversations you never wanted to have.Â
I mean, who couldâve predicted that? One of Steveâs teenagers recognises you in the grocery store three years after your fling, howâd they even remember?Â
The phone doesnât ring, that night.Â
Or the next.
Maybe Steve didnât believe the kid. Maybe the kid had an emergency completely unrelated to Leah. Maybe Steve believed it and didnât care. You deem yourselves safe from harm in a venture to the grocery store when your mom asks for chicken noodle soup.Â
Itâs there you recognise your mistake. Steve Harringtonâs shiny BMW sits parked in the bay by the sign for the laundromat and the man himself sits inside with a paperback bent open on his thigh. Heâs glaring at it like it killed his whole family.
Eddie and Steve are just Uncle Jesse and Joey from full house variants and you CANNOT change my mind
the look of love (for writers)
"it's all in the eyes i was once told"
catching the stare of someone across a crowded room
subtle furrowing of eyebrows beyond a blank facade
coldness easing into warmth
a fond mothering gaze
corner of the lip nudged upward
forced glower/glare as they break underneath
batting their lashes, playful
a boisterous laugh
intrigue piercing the stoic
proud smugness at the other's success
lingering glances
a childish joy bursting through
pupils dilate
eyelids shut in a look of peace, calm and trust
look of longing/betrayal
"there was once a time when they were mine"
terseness
features fold into a scowl
an urgent flinching back
coldness returns (as though the warmth had never come)
lips part then purse
invasion of shock
slow stare at the floor
the ripple effect of a swallow
frustrated breath/sigh
bitter laugh in reminiscence
dread tearing through the seams of their composure
look of hatred
"darkness"
mean smirk- teeth bared grimace- scowl
dismissive gaze
gaze of contempt/impatience
threat lowering the voice
sardonic goading grins verging on manic
rolling one's eyes
flicker of irritation in the eyes
stares stubbornly ahead despite distraction
gritted teeth, clenched jaw
fierce biting remarks
even measured complexions betraying no thought
strangling oneself back from violence
utter apathy
murderous silence hanging in the stare
snobbish laughter
smiling at another's downfall
decamped â´ gator tillman
fiancĂŠ/husband!gator tillman x reader - wc 5.1k
summary: one thing you and your fiancĂŠ have in common: you both hate people meddling in your business. it's a good thing gator has a plan to get everyone's hands off of your big day.
tags/warnings: fiancĂŠ to husband!gator tillman x reader, no use of y/n, tooth-rotting fluff, established relationship, suggestive content, domestic fluff, elopement, rude!gator (but you love it), soft!gator, use of petnames (mama, baby, sweetheart), use of "stupid" and "woman" as petnames, gator tillman doing anything to make his girl happy
author's note: based on this request, which has the companion proposal fic attached!
---
Itâs been five months of planning, and you still barely feel ready.Â
Five months of booking the church you didnât think was busy enough to require a reservation. Five months of running over menus six times just to make sure the one vegetarian in Lehigh has something edible on their plate. Five months of technicalities and requirements for your wedding you couldnât care less about.
And the unkillable, unending source of your frustration is that everybody and their mother seems to have an opinion on it. And for five months, everybody and their mother has elected to share those opinions with you.
Friends to Lovers Dialogue Prompts With Quiet Intimacy
â "You always look for me first when something's funny. I don't think you know you're doing it."
â "I know what your silence sounds like when something's wrong. I've been paying that much attention."
â "You called me first. You always call me first."
â "I memorized your face before I understood why."
â "You make room for me without thinking about it. I think about it all the time."
â "Tell me the thing you haven't told anyone else. I already know it won't change how I see you."
â "I don't know when 'my friend' stopped feeling like enough of a word for you."
â "I kept waiting to feel less. It just kept getting worse."
â "You fit next to me like you were always supposed to be there. I'm done pretending that's nothing."
â "I've been practicing not reaching for your hand. I'm terrible at it."
â "You're the only person I'm not exhausted after. I think that's been trying to tell me something."
â "I stopped wanting to leave at some point. I can't tell you exactly when it happened."
â "You've been my favorite person for so long I forgot it was supposed to feel like more than that."
â "I know exactly how you take your coffee and I've never once asked. That means something."
â "You always reach for me in a crowd. You don't even realize you're doing it."
â "The way you trust me quietly without saying it out loud. That's the thing that got me."
â "I don't know how to go back to just being the person who knows you."
â "I've been here longer than you think. I'm not scared of this."
â "You laugh differently around me. I noticed a long time ago and said nothing."
â "I think I've been in love with you at every version of you. That's a lot of versions."
specific tropes in romance that always heal something in me that it never broke
like, forehead kisses, soft love confessions, peppering kisses all over the lover's face. promises that are kept, hands those are held with a gentle love, and hugs that engulf the heart too.
or when they rest their head on your chest, or lean on you for support.
"your tears kill me," kinda thing. or when a sunshine character finally cries and bawls their entire life's hurt out into their comfort grumpy character (plus point, if the grump feels guilty thinking if they had done something to trigger this emotional outburst)
communication. no matter hard the topic is, how big your differences are.
listening to the other person yap
admiring their facial features and seeing not just the outer structure but the person that they really are.
them getting angry on ur behalf
cradling each other in hugs basically
feeling emotional walls break when you're with that one person particularly
gentle communication. yearning to do more for your lover (!!!!)
affectionate smiles and eyes crinkling with a smile that's directed specially at you.
finding their laugh contagious.
the feeling of being accepted, despite flaws and all
silent domestic acts like being in the kitchen together, dressing up together, them drying ur hair while u sit between their legs
occasionally stolen kisses
or one deep kiss that just lights your world and fulfills your soul and heart.
sleepily nuzzling into each other!!
reaching for each other despite being asleep, with mumbled endearments and whispers of need!!!
laughter coming easily by their side, like happiness is just another day to day thing (this can also be about self love. when u truly love urself and prioritize your own rights and cherish the fact that you're you. happiness becomes beautiful even in solitude)
their fingers buried deep in yo- OOPS.?! :)
( a collection of too close for 'just friends' prompts. adjust phrasing as necessary.) feel free to make edits to better suit your muse.
Theyâve always hugged, but lately those hugs linger just a beat too long.
Sharing a bed during a tripâneither of them sleeps much because theyâre too aware of the otherâs presence.
Accidentally slipping into couple habits (buying each other food, remembering their exact coffee order, fixing their collar, etc.).
Friends teasing them for acting like a couple⌠and both of them freezing because it hits a little too close.
One notices the otherâs dating profile and feels irrationally territorial.
The line between âfriendly banterâ and âflirtingâ has gotten blurry.
A partner/bystander points it out bluntly: âYou know theyâre in love with you, right?â
A fight about boundariesâbecause one of them wants more, but is terrified of losing the friendship.
A drunken kiss that neither of them can stop thinking about.
Everyone else assumes theyâre together already⌠and they canât quite correct them.
âDo you have any idea what it does to me when you look at me like that?â
âYouâre supposed to be my safe place, not the reason my chest feels like itâs going to explode.â
âWe canâtâGod, we canât cross that line.â
âSay it. Say you donât feel it too, and Iâll drop it.â
âYou donât get to touch me like that and still call it friendship.â
âStop smiling at me like Iâm yours.â
âIf this is just friendship, then why canât I breathe when youâre this close?â
âYouâre going to ruin me, and you donât even know it.â
âOne more second like this, and Iâm not going to be able to stop myself.â
âTell me you donât want me, and Iâll believe you.â
âDonât kiss me like that and pretend it means nothing.â
âWeâre not supposed to do this. Weâre not supposed to feel this.â
âIâd rather lose my mind than lose you, and right now I think Iâm losing both.â
âDo you want me to beg? Is that what this is?â
âIf we cross this line, nothing will ever be the same. And God help me, I still want to.â
âIf you keep touching me like that, I wonât be able to stop.â
âFriends donât ache when the other leaves the room. So what does that make us?â
âTell me to go, and I will. Pleaseâsay something before I do something we canât take back.â
âDonât call me your best friend when youâre looking at me like Iâm more.â
âIf this is nothing, then why does it feel like everything?â
âYou donât get it, do you? Every time you smile at me, it feels like a promise.â
âYouâre in my head all the time, and itâs killing me. Friends arenât supposed to feel like this.â
âIf we cross this line, youâre not just my friend anymore. Youâre my downfall.â
âYouâre standing too close.â
âDo you even know what youâre doing to me right now?â
âStop making me want something I canât have.â
âI canât lose you to this, but God, I canât stop wanting you either.â
âYouâre looking at me weird.â
âThat wasnât a⌠friendly thing to say.â
âDo you always stand this close?â
âWhy does it feel different when itâs you?â
âYouâre supposed to be my best friend, not the one making my heart race.â
âThat⌠didnât sound like a joke.â
âStop holding me like that. Friends donât hold each other like that.â
âDo you even realize how youâre looking at me right now?â
âDonât call me yours. You donât mean it.â
âI canât breathe when you touch me like that.â
âSay weâre still just friends. Lie to me.â
âWeâre not supposed to want this.â
âIf this is nothing, then why does it feel like everything?â
âOne more second and Iâm not going to be able to stop myself.â
âEvery time you laugh, I forget weâre not allowed to be more.â
âTell me you donât feel it. Please. Tell me Iâm imagining this.â
âYou canât just kiss me and act like it means nothing.â
âIâm trying so hard not to want you, and youâre making it impossible.â
âIf you keep looking at me like that, I swear Iâll ruin everything.â
âTell me to go, or Iâm not going to.â
âYouâre mine. God help me, I donât care what we call itâyouâre mine.â
âIâd rather destroy this friendship than pretend I donât want you anymore.â
âDo you want me to beg? Because I will.â
âWeâve already crossed the line. The second I realized I loved you, we did.â
âStop staring at me like that. Youâre my best friend.â
âYou canât just⌠say stuff like that. Weâre supposed to be friends.â
âFriends donât make my heart do backflips when they smile.â
âWhy does it feel like Iâm cheating when you go on dates?â
âDonât hold my hand if you donât mean it.â
âWeâve been friends for years, so why does it suddenly feel different?â
âDonât kiss me like that if youâre going to pretend it didnât happen.â
âYouâre supposed to be the one I tell about my crush, not be the crush.â
âThatâs not a friendly kind of jealousy.â
âIf weâre just friends, then why do I feel like youâre mine?â
beomkai threesome thoughts have been festeringâŚ. i could no longer hold back so here u go
(wc: 4.2k / warnings: threesome but no mxm, mean-ish dom!beomgyu and soft dom!kai for the most part, oral (f & m rec.), manhandling, fingering, praise, degradation, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, nipple play, humiliation, sloppy seconds lol, the boys get kind of competitive, choking (f rec.), handjob, multiple creampies⌠i think thatâs all)
You are never hanging out with these perverts again. Twenty minutes ago, the three of you were drinking and laughing and being normal, but god forbid you make one joke that bruises their egosânow theyâve got you pinned to the couch and fighting against their grip.
âOkay, lesson learned, youâre stronger than me,â you groan. âYou can get off of me now.â
ââ´ď¸Ë・â Asking ur bf to come over! ââ´ď¸Ë・â
ââââŕ¨ŕ§ââââ
âËęŠď˝Ą cw: some suggestive comments, txt being a little freaky, desperate txt, swearing (like once)
âËęŠď˝Ą authors note: hi guys! Tysm for the support on my first post đĽšđĽš I was so nervous posting but now that schools out I will def be on here way more! i hope you guys like this smau and feel free to give me requests!!
ę§â đŠŕźşâ§ŕźťđŞ â ę§
Itâs always sub kai this sub kai that but what about dom kai are we forgetting about negative kai
I dare each one of you that liked this to write a dom kai fic asap
WaitâŚâŚI might cook something up ngl this is speaking to me
You will be my savior and Iâll be a very happy damsel not in distress anymore
t x t f i c r e c s â ⢠. * ă
stop I am blushingâŚ
Everyone's Watching Us
Part 1: Unpredictable
punch drunk, unpredictable
Pairing: Actor!Steve Harrington x Actress!Reader
Summary: Your team thinks they have the perfect solution to soften your image after recent backlash. Unfortunately, that solution involves an arrangement with Steve Harrington. Tensions rise as you're forced to navigate your new situation together.
Word Count: 8.3k
Warnings: fake dating/PR relationship, smut, enemies/frenemies with benefits, hatefucking, p in v (protected and unprotected), references to alcohol dependence, platonic with a capital P Stobin, Eddie Munson being an instigator, past Stancy, daddy issues and nepotism, modern!AU, drama, no use of y/n for reader insert and no physical description of reader
A/N: I'm so excited to share this fic with you! The dynamic between Steve and Sweetheart (aka actress!Reader) has been so so fun to write!
Fic Masterlist | Inbox
Disconnected
inspiration: Disconnected by 5sos pairing: boyfriend!Kai x fem!reader wc: 1.7k summary: disconnecting from the world to spend time with your boyfriend a/n: warm fuzzy vibes, I was craving this so much so I had to write it out
After what has felt like the longest day of your life at work, dealing with neverending phone calls and an endless list of tasks you can now retreat to your favourite place. Your getaway from reality and responsibility.Â
Dragging your feet along the hall you make it to your boyfriend Kaiâs apartment. Before you can knock the door is swinging open. His handsome face greeting you with open arms. You fall into him, relishing in his warmth and soft hoodie. Breaking apart, he closes the door while you abandon your belongings on the kitchen counter. You droop with exhaustion prompting him to say the most delicious words ever, âfood is on the way, letâs cuddle while we wait.âÂ
These are your all time favourite moments with your boyfriend. Quiet room with warm ambient lighting, all screens off, cuddled up close together. The only sounds are Kaiâs heartbeat as you snuggle closer to him and the summer rain pattering against the windows. The rain tunes out the constant sound of the city almost lulling you to sleep. You're unsure of how much time passes, Kaiâs chest is way too comfortable. He shifts carefully under you, not wanting to jolt you awake. You move for him, resting your head on the back of the couch. Kai jogs to the door as a knock sounds. Food is here. Your stomach grumbles at the thought.Â
Sitting crossed legged facing Kai on the couch you dig into the noodles he ordered. Food has never tasted this good. Sighing and moaning as you take your first bites, Kai giggles at your overdramatic reaction.Â
âHow was your day, love?â he asks you, then picks up his noodles.Â
âUrghhhhâŚâ you lower the container and roll your eyes, âwe were short staffed to start and then everything just seemed to keep going wrong as my to do list just got longer and longer.â His head tilted hearing how awful your day had been, an empathetic pout on his face.Â
âHow was your day?â you raise the food again, taking a big bite.Â
âWell⌠it doesnât sound that much better than yours. We had a big problem with the lighting rig and then there was a not-so-nice hashtag trendingâ, he muttered, staring down at his chopsticks. You reach over and gently lift his chin, his weary half-lidded eyes meet yours. Hearing that his day hadnât been the best either, you wanted to comfort him.Â
âHey, letâs forget about all of that for tonight, we can put the world away. You are all that really matters to me,â you hope he can feel how much you mean it. His lips tug into a small smile.
âYouâre right, you're all that matters.â He didnât need to say anything else.Â
Once the noodles have been devoured you head straight for a hot shower, needing to wash the day away. While you are gone Kai prepares for the evening. When you return in a towel, the king bed has been rearranged so the pillows and plushies will give optimal comfiness, the lights have been dimmed all the way down and there is one of Kaiâs t-shirts laid out on the bed. You do have a drawer here with extra clothes in for when you stay over but Kai knows you love wearing his t-shirts to sleep. They are somehow just way more soft and comfy to wear than your own, plus they smell of him. Throwing on the dark shirt, you dig through your drawer to find a pair of sleep shorts and fuzzy socks. Now being ready for bed you make your way out of the bedroom to find your boyfriend.Â
You find him tidying up in the kitchen, his back facing you. The fuzzy socks make your steps inaudible on the wood flooring so you take the opportunity to silently tiptoe up behind him and delicately wrap your arms around his waist. If this was the other way round, you would have jumped a mile at the contact but Kai is not easily scared. You hug his broad back against your chest and lean your cheek against him. The position causes your eyes to close.Â
âHi love, did you find the shirt?â his voice silkily slips over his shoulder as he places his hands over yours. You hum an affirmative note, he lets out a breathy chuckle realising your lack of speaking means you're tired and ready for bed. He spins in your drooping arms then effortlessly picks you up with his hands under your thighs. You melt into the crevice of his neck, wrapping your legs around his waist. Carefully, he carries you back to the bedroom, turning lights off as he goes, then gently places you on the bed pulling the covers over you.Â
Taking his phone out of his pocket he sees yours sitting on the dresser across the room. He makes sure his is set to silent and on do not disturb before placing it down next to yours, wanting to create a peaceful bubble with no distractions. He discards his jeans and hoodie then slides into bed beside you, tugging you as close as possible. Feeling his warmth, you lay your head on his chest finding his heartbeat once again. This is peace. A sweet escape from your usual hectic, overwhelming days. Kaiâs hand sweeps along your bare thigh lazily, savouring your soft skin. Between his wandering hands, light breathing and rhythmic heartbeat you are seriously struggling to stay awake.Â
Your evenings alone usually consisted of you listening to the radio while cooking, watching a tv show while eating and spending time before bed on your phone either scrolling or calling someone. Always needing background noise to fill the empty silence. When you are with Kai you don't need any of those things. He fills the silence.Â
Trying to snuggle closer and closer you notice his breathing steady and his hands still. Heâs asleep. A gentle smile forms on your lips. Inhaling his fading cologne you listen to the hammering rain outside, eventually drifting off too.Â
The violent downpour stops overnight allowing birdsong to wake you up in the morning. Kaiâs bedroom is basked in an orange glow from the sunlight beaming onto the curtains. You are still enveloped in his arms, almost in the exact position you remember falling asleep in. No tossing and turning in the night means you must have been exhausted and very comfortable.Â
Seeing your boyfriendâs eyes still closed you lift your head to place a delicate kiss to his cheek then his nose and finally his lips. The action alerts him, even in his sleep, and he kisses back. The only thing you possibly love more than disconnecting from the world with Kai is lazy morning kisses with him. They start so tender and sweet, slowly building as he wakes. His hands start wandering again and your smile grows. He canât help himself, you are just so enticing. Thighs so plush, skin so soft, and hips he loves to grab. He would wake up every morning like this if he could. Your hands are also wandering, over his toned stomach, up his flexing biceps and into his fluffy hair. If you werenât going to pass out from how unbearably hot it is now under the covers from you both and the sun, you would stay like this forever.Â
Pulling away gently from the kiss you throw the cotton sheets back and tug at your t-shirt to fan yourself. Kai lets his head drop back on the pillow and exhales. With his eyes still closed he asks âwhat would you like for breakfast love?â At the mention of food you realise how hungry you are. Kai makes the best eggs in the world, it has to be that.
âIf you can guess what I want in one try I will give you another kiss,â you say cheekily. His head tilts up and his eyes open at your challenge. A fake thinking expression takes over his face as he says âI bet it isâŚâ he pauses for dramatic effect tapping his index finger on his chin, âeggs on toast.â You playfully gasp, clutching your chest with your hand before leaning down quickly to peck his lips. His face shows a look of utter disappointment at the short contact, his hands reach behind your neck to drag you back down.Â
This kiss is different from the others, it is more passionate. You canât help yourself from giggling into it thinking about the upset look on his face from your teasing. Feeling your smile and hearing your giggles causes Kai to chuckle too. The kiss dissolves into fits of laughter from you both.Â
âItâs hard to kiss you when you're laughing you know,â he says, moving a strand of fallen hair out of your eyes.Â
âIâm sorry, no matter how many times I do it you still look so upset.â Kaiâs love language is definitely physical touch, so when you tease him by not giving him enough he gets all pouty which you find adorable.Â
âI always will when it comes to your kisses,â he squeezes you tight around the waist pecking you all over your face eliciting more giggles from you. He flips you onto your back, his large frame hoovering over you. His lips travel from your face to your neck. Silly pecks turning into long sensual kisses. Your laughter is replaced by blissful sighs. His hands tug up your t-shirt exposing your tummy allowing his lips to attack you there too. Your temperature starts to rise again when all of a sudden a loud low grumble sounds from your stomach. Kai, mid-kiss, roars with laughter. Your hands fly to your face, covering your red embarrassed cheeks.
âAre you hungry, love?â he asks even though the answer is blatantly clear. He slides his hand under your back and lifts you to sit up. Pulling your hands away from your face he stares into your eyes, suppressing his laughter behind a wide grin.Â
âLet me make you some breakfast.â Giving you one last quick kiss he holds your hand and leads you to the kitchen. Both of your phones are forgotten on the dresser.Â
Dominoes!
Mike Wheeler x Harrington!fem!reader
Synopsis: To keep your relationship a secret from Steve, you keep it a secret from everyone. But as the dominoes begin to fall, it's only a matter of time until the last one tips over.
cw: swearing, kissing, hugging, established relationship, secret relationship, fem!reader, harrington!reader, protective older brother Steve, some sassy Mike, some miscommunication, mentions of sex, mentions of violence, reader has hair, reader has arm hair, reader wears a tank top, reader wears lip gloss, use of Y/N (im sorry i really tried in the first half but then i just gave up đ), canon divergence, hellfire is back (for the plot), the beamer survived (for the plot)
wc: 8.5k
You and Michael Wheeler were in a casual relationship.Â
Not casual in the sense that you donât care much about each other and are also seeing other people, but in the sense that you guys justâŚwent with the flow. There wasnât any sort of plan or structure necessary. You really liked Mike. Mike really liked you. And thatâs all either of you needed.Â
ButâŚthere was one rule: Nobody could know.
It had started off as just Steve couldnât knowâyou didnât even want to think about how mad your brother would be if he knew you were going out with a boy, and of all boys in Hawkins, Mike Wheeler. It also didnât help that Mikeâs sister was his ex, so. That was really great.
But shortly after youâd told this to your boyfriend, made it your relationshipâs only official rule, you both realized that if Steve couldnât know, then neither could Robin. Or Dustin. And by extension, Will, El, Lucas, or Max.Â
So you amended the ruleâNobody. Could. Know.Â
It was actually much easier than anticipated to follow, for the first six months. You and Mike had never once spoken before you were swept into the whole âalternate dimension with monsters that would kill youâ thing, but became fast friends after. Nobody was ever surprised when you and Mike hung out together alone or leaned on each other or whispered about stupid inside jokes. Thatâs just what friends did.Â
But âfriendsâ didnât sneak into each otherâs windows at night, or stay up for hours talking on the phone about anything that came to mind. They didnât lay on the floor with each other, hands intertwined, just basking in the other's presence. And friends certainly didn't make plans to study together but then spend two hours making out instead.
It's a miracle Steve hasn't caught you.
When you push Mike's window open, a cold gust of wind hits your face, making your teeth chatter and the hairs on your arms stand up.
Mike gazes up at you, cheeks flushed, lips swollen, chin in his hands. "Are you sure you're good to get home alone? It's late."
"I'll be fine, Mike, it's a short walk," you tell him, swinging a leg through the window, firmly gripping the pane when your foot slides a little on the windowsill, still wet from the earlier rain. "See you tomorrow?"
Mike nods and leans up to kiss you. You return it happily, loving it so much that it takes a droplet from the roof falling on your forehead to make you remember you're supposed to be leaving.
With a final wave goodbye, you swing your other leg out your boyfriend's window, carefully climbing down the crevices of his house's outer wall, sighing in relief when you feel the softness his lawn under your shoes.
You turn, still tip-toeing, towards the sidewalk, and as you get to the pavement and drop your guard, you're nearly blinded by the flash of high-beam headlights. You raise your arm to shield your eyes, lowering it once you see the brights fading. Continuing your walk, you hear the car's door open and shut behind you, and the sound of boots against asphalt. Then a voice, calling your name. You recognize it.
Nancy Wheeler.
Your pace picks up. Her voice gets more insistent, then it gets closer. Closer and closer until you feel a hand on your shoulder, turning you around to face her.
"What are you doing out so late? Does Steve know you're here?" Your eyes dart to the ground. "I'm taking that as a no," she says, looking around the block.
You watch her face, fear rising as you clock the exact moment she registers Mike's open window, settling as you practically see the gears turning in her head, putting the puzzle together.
"Wait," she murmurs. Then her voice rises. "You...and my brother?" You don't reply, looking back down. "What? You're going out with him? Why? Since when?" When your mouth still stays shut, she sighs. "Come on. I'll drive you home. It's dangerous out this lateâdoes Mike not know that? Okay, I have a lot of questions about this. And I expect answers."
As you sit quietly in Nancy's passenger seat, you can't tell if she sounds more like a journalist or a concerned mother.
"How long has this been going on for?"
"Are you comfortable in the relationship? Is Mike?"
"Does Steve know?"
"This isn't a bond-of-trauma thing, right?"
"Are you having sex? If you are, you're using protection, right?"
That one gets a reaction from you.
"Whaâew, why do you want to know that, we're talking about your brother!"
"Exactly," she nods matter-of-factly. "I have zero intention of becoming an aunt right now, and I also don't want to attend Mike's funeral if you guys get into that situation because your brother will murder him. Now, answer my question."
"We're not," you mutter, earning a satisfied "good" from Nancy.
"Speaking of Steve," she says, "does he know about this?"
You have this sudden urge to kick Nancy from the car and drive it a million miles away to change your name and start a new life.
"You already asked that."
"You didn't answer. You haven't answered any of my questions, and I told you I expect answers."
"Sucks to be you, I guess." The glare she gives you elicits a sound that's a mixture of a laugh and a cry for help. "Fine," you mutter. "Steve doesn't know." Nancy nods. "And please don't tell him, or Jonathan, or Will, or Joyce. Or your mom. Or Holly. Or Robinâ"
"Calm down," she laughs. You give her a look this time, because does she not realize how serious this is? "I won't tell anyone. You have my word."
Your expression softens. "Thanks, Nancy."
You look at your lips in the glitter-framed mirror on the inside of your locker door, opening a shiny pink gloss to swipe over them.
Conveniently, however, your boyfriend decides to mess up your application by shaking your shoulder hard.
"JesusâMike, what the hell?" You turn to face him, brow furrowing when you see the expression on his face.
"Do you know anything about why Nancy pulled me aside before breakfast this morning and told me never to let my girlfriend walk home alone ever again?" His brown eyes are wide, searching yours for any sort of information about what compromised the two of you to his sister.
"...Maybe?"
"What? Y/N, what happened?"
"Okay, so..." You grimace, pursing your lips. "When I was leaving last night, she parked outside your house right as I came out. She asked what I was doing there, and I swear I said nothing, but it didn't take long for her to put two and two together. And then she gave me a ride home."
Mike buries his face in his hands, muffling a groan.
"But she promised not to tell anyone!" You reassure him, pulling his hands from his face and clasping them in your own. "That's good, right?"
"She has blackmail now," he mutters, leaning closer into you. "My life is over."
"It's not over," you say, quickly looking around yourself before letting go of his hands to pull him even closer, your arms around his neck. "I trust Nancy. I think we're still in the clear."
"...You really think so?"
"Yeah."
"I don't trust her, but..." His shoulders lose some of their tension, and he melts into your hug. "...I trust you. So. Okay. Yup. We're good."
Spoiler alert: One of you should've found some wood to knock on.
After a moment, Mike pulls back from you, reaching out to cup your jaw.
"Can I kiss you real quick?"
You smile. "Is there anyone here who can't see?"
Mike looks ahead and to the side. "Nope."
"Then go for it."
He leans in. You lean in. You meet in the middle. It's school, so you can't get as lost in it as you were last night (more lost in it than you could get last year, thoughâperks of being a senior), but it's still nice, one of your hands moving up to twirl one of the curls at the nape of his neck around your finger, the other one settling on his shoulder.
Then you pull apart for air, fighting back this bright, schoolgirl smile that's starting to creep its way up on your face.
"You have lip gloss on you," you whisper, noticing a smudge of shiny pink right on the corner of Mike's lip, wiping it off with your thumb. "And you should get to class."
"I'll walk you to yours first," he says, closing your locker door and turning around, immediately coming face-to-face with someone that isn't you.
Pencil case and notebook in hand, long brown hair tied back, big brown eyes wide and more shocked than you've ever seen them in the four years you've known her.
El.
"What's going onâ"
"We can explain!" You and Mike speak in unison, stepping further apart from each other.
"We, uh, were just talkingâ"
El interrupts this time. "You were kissing."
"We're notâwe weren't kissing, I..." You mentally scramble for anything that could cover up what El had seen. "I was, uhm, giving Mike mouth-to-mouth because, he was passing out, from, erâlow iron. Low iron. We've gotta get more spinach in this boy, am I right?"
Her eyes narrow. "You're lying."
You glance nervously at Mike. "I'm not lying," you mumble.
"Why are you lying?" El clearly doesn't believe you. "We don't lie to each other, Y/N. Friends don'tâ"
"Yeah," you sigh. "I know. Look, El, I...can we talk about this at lunch? Please?"
"Okay," she nods. "Lunch." She's walking away to her next class before you can say another word.
You wouldn't be able to tell anyone what your math teacher had said about derivatives that lasted twenty-five minutes.
You wouldn't be able to give anyone answers to the worksheet that still lay blank on your desk after thirty.
You were, however, absolutely sure of the fact that class ended in three...two...one...
The bell rings shrill and loud, the normally startling sound almost a comfort to you as you jump up from your seat, scooping all your stuff up into your arms and stepping out of your chair, through the door and to the lunchroom faster than the Flash.
You drop all your stuff at your and Mike's usual table, and it slams hard onto the surface. He's not there yet, but Dustin and Lucas are, arguing over something you're going to assume is sci-fi/fantasy related, only breaking out of their debate once they hear the crash of your things.
"Hi," you greet them, sitting down next to Lucas and tapping the edge of the table with your fingernails. "Where's Mike? And Elâsorry, Jane?"
They look at each other for a whole four seconds, then at you like you're some slimy alien species they want to discover by poking at with a probe.
"Are you...okay?" Lucas asks.
"Never better," you shrug. "Now, where's Jane and Mike?"
"You sound urgent," says Dustin, looking back at one of the hallways leading into the lunchroom. "They're probably just still in class."
"I need to talk to them," you say.
"About what?" The boys inquire in unison.
"None of your business. Hi, Max!" Your expression brightens upon seeing your friend, sliding next to Lucas' other side with a lunch tray in hand.
"Hey, Harrington," she smiles, then looks around the table. "Where's Jane? And Wheeler?"
Dustin and Lucas turn to her. Then to you. Then back to her. "Are you in on Y/N's thing?"
Max lifts a brow. "What thing?"
One of your favorite things about Max had just become your absolute favorite. She was a beyond excellent liar, which was something people kept in mind regardless of whether she was lying.
The boys do the eye-contact thing again, both unsure whether or not she's telling the truth, which thankfully, as Mike and El come into the cafeteria, starts another argument that distracts them from you standing up and dragging the two up and away from the cafeteria before they can even sit down.
You stop in front of the French classroom, glancing inside to make sure it's empty before pulling them inside and sitting El down at one of the desks, standing in front of her.
"So," you say. "About what you saw earlier..."
"You and Mike kissing?"
You look at Mike. Mike looks at you. You're both asking the same question. Do we tell her?
"She already saw," you murmur.
Mike nods with a sigh, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Yeah." He turns to El. "You're right. We were kissing."
"Why was Y/N lying?"
"Because nobody's supposed to know about us. So you can't tell anyone."
"This is like, super serious, El," you say. "So please promise me you won't tell anybody about it. It's a secret."
"It was a secret," Mike mutters, rolling his eyes.
El looks between you and your boyfriend. Then she nods sincerely. "I promise I won't tell."
"You're the best," you beam, stepping closer and wrapping your arms tight around her. "I love you, El."
She smiles softly. "I love you too."
As the three of you exit the classroom, Mike leans in towards you, whispering: âTwo people in two days. I think weâre screwed.â
After Mike had made that comment, you'd thought you were screwed, too, but maybe he'd jinxed it or something (can you jinx a bad thing?) because nothing embarrassing happened to the two of you for the next four weeks.
No being walked in on, no being suspected, no accidentally saying something and having to cover it up, just pure, secret (sort of), bliss.
And it carried over through spring break, when the weather finally warmed up and . Nobody you knew showed up when you took Mike on a picnic in the meadow, and Steve was never home when Mike called, either grocery shopping or on a first date or whatever else he spent his free time doing. You didn't really care as long as you got to talk to your boyfriend.
The whole week off you had for the break went by far too quickly, feeling like it had just been a hazy three-day weekend instead. That just wouldn't do, though, so (after annoying your brother into saying yes) you invited everybody to your house to sleep over.
Your one instruction to your friends was to bring bathing suits. You would handle the restâmovies, games, snacks. They pulled through, and you all spent most of the afternoon splashing around in your backyard pool, trying out fun tricks and dives and playing all the pool games you hadn't played since winter.
You had all climbed out of the cold water by the time the sun began to skin into the horizon and paint the sky orange, leaving wet footprints on the concrete in your backyard before going to changeâsome of you lining up in front of the pool shed, and some others waiting outside of the downstairs bathroom.
Once you were dry, hair damp and dressed in clean, soft pajamas, you had dragged all your friends into the living room, where boxes upon boxes of old board games were stacked on top of each other in an impressive tower.
"Take your pick," you grin. "I'll get the food." The second you turn around towards the kitchen, chatter immediately erupts between the group of friends, and you hear some of the boxes fall to the floor. You slide frozen pizzas into the oven, and you get some chips and Hostess cupcakes to hold you guys over while you're playing.
Multiple rounds of UNO, Twister, Clue, and a Connect Four tournament later, you're all on a couch or the floor, with cheesy slices of pizza in hand and a large bowl of popcorn on the coffee table that's almost empty already. Top Gun is bright on your television screen, and a pretty high stack of VHS tapes sits next to your player, shrinking one by one as everyone votes on more movies to watch.
By almost four in the morning, everyone's too sleepy to continue watching whatever movie was playing, sprawled on the floor or one of the couches. The sound of snores surrounds you, and they're just so appealing. So you point the remote at the TV and turn it off, leaving the room in silence and darkness. Your head lolls on Mike's shoulder and your eyes slip shut barely a second after as you doze off into a dreamland.
Your dreamland is dark. The sky is red and black, thunder clapping every so often, making you almost jump out of your skin each time. Under your feet, the ground feels slimy and moist, like you were going to slip on it any second. Which you knew from personal experience was the least dangerous thing about this place.
You weren't supposed to be here. This was supposed to be over. You'd destroyed it. So what were you doing back.
You turn your head frantically, looking around the area for any possible way out.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. What is happening?
And then you see it. Him. Alive. Not dead like you'd ensured two years ago. Alive and breathing and heading towards you with the speed of a falcon. You turn to run. But your feet are planted into the ground, and you can't lift them.
He gets closer. Closer. Then he lifts his hand toward you. Your body rises up. Higher, higher, higher, untilâ
You shoot up, head frantically lifting from Mike's shoulder, sweat dripping down your cool skin. Your eyes dart around the room, and though it's pitch-dark, you can still see everyone. Asleep. Inside. Safe. You can't help it. A loud sob leaves your mouth, one you can't tell is from relief or fear. Hot tears trail down your cheeks and drop onto your shirt, even though you hurriedly try to wipe them away.
Mike stirs. His eyes move fast, from everyone asleep in the living room, to you, pale and scared and very much awake.
Blinking rapidly, he pushes himself to sit up, looking at you with his brows creased in concern. "Hey," he whispers. "What happened?"
"Nothing." You tuck your knees up to your chest, curling in on yourself like it'll make you invisible to him.
"It's not nothing if you're crying about it," he says gently, tilting your chin towards him to meet his gaze. "You can tell me. I'm not gonna judge you or anything."
"I know you won't. I just don't want to talk about it."
"But it won't help you to bottleâ" Mike sighs. "Okay." He obliges for a moment, then looks over you and asks: "Do you want a hug?"
You unravel from your self-hug ever so slightly. "Yes please," you murmur, already moving to lean into him. He pulls you in all the way, wrapping his arms around your waist and you wrapping yours around his neck.
Your eyes water again, and the sobs come faster, harder, wracking your body, producing tears absorbed by Mike's sleeve. And in the midst of the sobs comes the story.
"I was back there," you rasp. "And I was alone. And he had me, Mike, he had me and I was gonna die. He was gonna do that thing where he made me float and snapped all my bones like he was gonna do to Max andâ" you're interrupted by your own cries, muffling them in Mike's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I woke you up and now your shirt's all wet and snotty andâ"
"Hey, no, don't apologize, it's not like any of this is your fault," Mike reassures you. "I think what happened haunts all of our dreams, tonight it just picked you. But you're okay. We killed him. The gate's closed. Nobody can hurt you, and nobody will hurt you, because I'm here. alright? We all are." He tugs you impossibly closer to him, pressing light but loving kisses all around your face. "And I'm gonna keep you safe."
Just him saying that made something inside you settle, and you respond to his kisses, giving him a few of your own.
You were safe. And Mike would help keep it that way.
As you cuddle tighter against your boyfriend, seeking sleep once again, your eyes meet a pair of hazel ones across the room.
Will.
You must have accidentally woken him up, too.
They move to Mike, then to you once again, and you exchange a silent promise.
He's not going to tell.
Will doesn't ask many questions except "how long has this been going on?" and the dreaded "does Steve know?". Once you had answered those, it was smooth sailing.
Steve didn't know, and he wouldn't know. Not yet.
You had been mindlessly flicking through the TV channels on a gloomy Sunday evening when the weather came up, showing that this coming Saturday would be sunny with a high of 74° F (about 23° C!).
That sounded wonderful with the quite consistent showers that had been raining on Hawkins, so what's the first thing you do?
Call Mike (once you were sure Steve wasn't home yet).
You hold the receiver against your ear, tapping your foot impatiently as you wait for him to pick up. He does on the fourth ring. "Mike, I have the perfectâoh, hi Mr. Wheeler. Could you tell Mike I want to talk to him?"
"Who's this?"
"I'm his friend, Y/N Harrington." Though you're not the fondest of Mr. Wheeler, you speak brightly into the phone, so as not to ruffle his feathers or anything that could make him hang up on you.
It's silent for a few moments, then you hear another voice.
"Hello?"
"Mike? I have the best idea for a date."
"A date?"
"Yeah. You know, that thing that boyfriends and girlfriends go on?"
"Yeah, I know." You can practically see the eye-roll. "We just haven't been on one in a while."
"Exactly," you grin. "Are you free Saturday? Because if you are, we're gonna go to the hill where Dustin put his radio thing and watch the sun rise."
"...You want us to climb all the way up Weathertop. At like, five in the morning."
"Okay, it sounds bad when you say it like that, but I promise I'll do everything. I'll bring us like, a breakfast or something, I'll pick you up from your house, and you won't have to dress nice, and I can carry you up the hill if you get too tired to walk."
"I can walk up a hill! And I'm gonna pick you up from your house. I'll take my bike. Or Nancy's car if she lets me."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah. I'm showing up at 5 AM sharp on Saturday, and you better be ready. With that breakfast you mentioned."
"Great. I'll see you then, Mike."
"You're gonna see me at school tomorrow."
"Oh, right," you giggle. "But I'll see you on Saturday, too."
The sound of the front door's lock turning hits your ear, and your heart rate doubles. "Shit, Steve's home. I'll call you back later if you still wanna talk, 'kay? Bye!"
"Byeâ" The phone is back up before he can add anything else.
Usually after a long, boring five days of school and homework and socializing and bedtimes (that you never followed anyway), you're ready to stay up on a Friday night at a party, or watching a bunch of movies or whatever stupid shit is still airing at two in the morning.
This Friday night, however, you're in bed before even 10:00 PM, alarm set to 4:00, blankets soft, pillows fluffed, window, blinds, and curtain shut; and a sleep mask that you'd received a million years ago as a party favor (to keep out any and all light). You're in your comfiest pajamas, curled up on your side as you wait for sleep to engulf you.
You roll over. And over again. You shift to your back. You flip your pillow. You shift to your stomach. Back to your side. A cricket chirps outside and every nerve in your body jolts. But you don't move. You won't move. You will sleep.
You don't want to know when, but you do fall asleep eventually.
And soon, it's 4:00 AM, and you feel like you're physically fighting the sleep in your body as you groggily push yourself out of your bed and hit the button to turn it off.
By the time you've showered, brushed your teeth, and done your hair, you were awake enough to walk over to your wardrobe and pick out something nice to wear for your guys' first date in weeks.
Fuzzy sweater...no, too warm. Sundress...no, too fancy. Pink tank top...yes. Casual but nice and suited for the weather. You pull that on over your head, careful not to mess up your hair, and style it with a pair of denim shorts you'd bought on sale for Black Friday and couldn't wait to wear.
As you clip in jewelry, your gaze passes over the numerous cosmetic products that line your vanity. Is it worth it at almost 5:00? You knew Mike wouldn't careâhe'd like your look either way, but it was still a date. And you wanted to look nice. So you apply a bit of mascara and lip gloss to top everything off.
Perfect.
At 4:59 in the morning, you hear a light tap on your window. Then a slightly harder one. Rushing over to it, you open the curtains and pull up the blinds.
"Hi Mike."
"Hey, Y/N." He's not in his pajamas like you said he could be, but actually dressed, in a band T-shirt and a pair of jeans. "I couldn't get Nancy's car, but I brought my bike, and I tied one of Holly's old bike baskets onto it so that you could put the stuff you bring in it."
"Okayâ"
"And I parked it a block away so Steve doesn't see it."
You had really taught him well over the past few months. "You are so amazing, Michael Wheeler."
"I know," he grins. "You look pretty."
Your face flushes, and you look from Mike to the rug on your floor, twisting the ends of your hair between your fingers. "Thanks."
"Okay, so are we gonna go sunrise-breakfast or what?" He stares into space for a second. "Sorry, that sounded a lot cooler in my head, and then I said it out loud and I was like, 'Mike, shut the fuck up that sounded disgusting'. But are you ready to go?"
Sunrise-breakfast. Breakfast. "One minute. Stay here!" You bolt from your room, keeping your stride short once you leave your room so your steps don't make as much sound, running to the kitchen and grabbing every crowd-pleaser in the cabinet before running back to your room, where Mike is very confused at the window.
"What's that?"
"Breakfast," you answer, holding up the stuff you'd swiped. Actually looking at it, a box of Twinkies, Cheetos, and a couple pouches of Capri-Sun didn't sound like the best breakfast, but it was better than nothing.
Mike nods. "Solid choices. I'll get that for you." He holds a hand out towards all the food in your arms.
"What? No!" Your eyes widen. "You're hanging off my window pane!"
"Yeah," he says. "And you'll be too once I get down. I don't want you to fall."
"I don't want you to fall," you argue. "I'll be fine."
"Y/Nâ"
"We're gonna miss the sunrise if we keep arguing, Mike, just climb down and I'll climb after you."
Mike could tell that you weren't going to take no for an answer, so he sighs and starts back down the wall of your house. You watch through the open window, waiting until his feet hit the grass and he's some feet away from the house until you move all the food to one arm, using the other to grip the wood as you swing your legs out the window and slowly climb out, too.
The snacks breakfast move to the bike basket, and you sit behind your boyfriend on his bike, wrapping your arms around his waist as he pedals through Hawkins and all the way to Weathertop. You don't talk to him, letting him focus on biking, and instead busy yourself with the dusky purple sky.
It's become a much paler color by the time you arrive at the hill, and the two of you dismount the seat, grabbing the food and, hand-in-hand, running up the hill (haha see what I did there). You plop down onto the soft green grass, pulling Mike down with you and leaning your head against his shoulder. He wraps an arm around your back to get you closer.
Twinkies unwrap, and straws poke into the juice pouches as you both sit on the hilltop in comfortable silence.
The sun slowly starts to come up from the horizon, and its beams streak the sky in pinks and golds.
"Wow," Mike mutters. "It's really pretty."
"Beautiful," you agree.
The sky is blue by the time you reach for another Twinkie, but all you feel underneath your fingers is cardboard. It tears your gaze from above and you turn to Mike, who's holding the last one in his hand...and he finishes it off.
"Mike!"
"Hm?" There's a couple yellow cake crumbs stuck around his lips and his brow is furrowed in confusion. "What?"
"That's the last one!"
He looks down at the box, seeing it empty, and he runs a hand through his hair sheepishly. "Sorry," he says, half apology, half laugh.
"It's not funny."
"I'll get you another one, Y/N."
"But I'm hungry now," you pout.
Mike doesn't say anything for a second. Then he scoops all the food up in one arm and holds the other one out towards you. "Okay. Let's get you one now."
You take his hand and he helps you up, pulling you down the hill. When you reach his bike, he shoves the leftover snacks and all the wrappers in Holly's basket and climbs onto the seat, waiting for you to settle and hold on tight before he starts pedaling.
Your surroundings pass you in a slight blur as your boyfriend takes you from the hill all the way to his house.
"Just stay here," he says. "I'll be in and out in like, twenty seconds." He hops off his bike and kicks the stand down, leaving you on the front porch.
His return with a Twinkie actually took twenty-five seconds, but you were willing to let it slide. You unwrap the sweet treat, taking a bite, and using your free hand to pull Mike into a sweet embrace, wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him tight.
He hugs you back, his arms sliding around your waist. You both stay like that for a little bit, then he pulls away.
"What was that for?" He asks with a raised eyebrow.
"I just wanted to thank you," you shrug, taking another bite of your Twinkie. "You woke up super early, biked me up a hill, and then biked me all the way to your house because I'm hungry and want a Twinkie. It's really nice of you to do for me, Mike."
He looks at you for a second. Just looks at you, a soft sparkle in his eyes. Then, quietly, he speaks. "I would do a hell of a lot more for you, Harrington."
You'd insisted on going on a quick walk while you were halfway through your Twinkie.
"The day's so nice. I don't want to waste it just standing around."
So you'd rushed through the rest of your Twinkie, and you and Mike were now walking around his neighborhood, fingers intertwined.
"You should all come over later," you tell him. "It's gonna be even hotter. We can use my pool. Or we could just hang out outside, I have popsicles."
"Or," Mike counters. "We could all go to my houseâyou know, enjoy the ACâand keep playing that D&D campaign."
"No," you refuse immediately, kicking at a pebble in front of you. "I'm not playing that campaign."
When you'd first started hanging out with Mike and the party, that sentence had left your mouth at least twice a day. Dungeons and Dragons was for loser nerds, and you wouldn't be caught dead rolling one of those twenty-sided dice.
Now, though, it's a different story.
"You're only saying that because all your wealth was looted," Mike laughs.
You roll your eyes, but press closer to him, leaning against his side. "I hate those bandits. I'm so screwed now, there's literally no point in playing."
"Maybe you could get more," Mike shrugs.
"...Did you write that in?" You glare at him through the corner of your eyes. "Michael Wheeler, tell me if that's written in."
"I'm not gonna tell you! You'll find out when you play."
"Mike," you groan. "That's so unâ"
The sound of your name stops you in your tracks. Mike stops, too.
"Didâ" He looks behind himself, then to the side. "Did you hear that?"
Another voice calling Mike's name startles you both again. "I definitely heard that," you agree. You feel sweat beginning to bead on your hands, and wipe them on your shorts. "Mike, what if it's him? Or what if it's the flayer and we never really destroyed the bridge and it's coming for us andâ"
Your name. Again. Much louder this time. And with it, this time, a head of fiery red hair coming towards you on a skateboard. Max. You exhale in relief. It was just Max.
The minute her foot stops her movement on the ground, you rip your hand from Mike's and step closer to your friend, throwing your arms around her and squeezing her tight.
"I'm so glad it's you," you whisper.
"Uh, okay," she says, confused. "Thanks."
Lucas appears behind her. "You guys," he asks, looking at Mike and then at you. "What are you doing awake and outside at 6 AM?" He turns fully to you this time. "And why are you even here, you live all the way across town!"
You can see that those were the kind of question that was answered just by asking it. The gears turning in Lucas' head are basically visible, and his slowly gaping mouth and his pointing between you and Mike.
"Oh my God," he says slowly. "You," he looks at Mike. "And you." He looks at you. "Max, are you seeing this? Mike and Y/N!"
"I'm seeing it," she nods.
"How long has this been happening?" Lucas asks, gesturing wildly. "Does your brother know?"
"Obviously Steve doesn't know," Max huffs. "Wheeler's alive."
Lucas lets out a chuckle. "So...the two of you. How come you didn't tell us?"
"There were a lot of risks," you sigh. "In how my brother could find out. So we decided not to tell anyone?"
"Wait, so we're the only ones who know?" Max lifts a brow.
You and Mike glance sheepishly at each other and Mike shakes his head. "Well...Nancy knows. So do Eleven and Will." He runs a hand through his hair. "And now you guys."
"Please don't tell anyone," you whisper.
"I mean, pretty much everyone knows at this point, so I don't see why notâ"
"Max, I'm not joking," you tell her, your voice low and flat. "Please keep your mouth shut about this, I don't want me or Mike getting in trouble."
She stares at you for a moment then nods slowly, understanding. "Okay," she nods. Lucas does, too. "Our lips are sealed."
"What are you doing here again? You're not in Hellfire."
"Sorry." You put your hands up sheepishly. "Just walking Mike here before Steve comes to get me. Do you guys need any help setting up?"
Dustin shakes his head, and beckons with his arms for Mike to enter the room.
You turn to face your boyfriend, taking a step back from him. "I will...uh, see you later?"
"Yeah," he nods. "I'll call you."
"Cool." You almost give into your natural reflexes of leaning in to kiss him. Almost. "Have fun." You turn and walk away from him before the urge to do anything rashâlike hug himâovertakes you completely.
(Mike's POV!)
Once you're out of Mike's field of vision, Dustin gives him a sly smirk, pulling pieces out of a box. "So you and Y/N have been hanging out a lot."
Mike is so grateful in that moment for the darkness of the room that serves to hide his reddening cheeks. "Yeah." He clears his throat. "What about it? She's one of our best friends."
"I mean, you don't see me walking her to all of her classes," he points out. "Is the 'little' thing you had for her back in seventh grade coming back again?"
"Iâwhat? No! No. No." Mike shoves one hand in his pocket, and runs another one harshly through his hair. "I do not like Y/N." It almost killed him to say.
Unfortunately, Dustin and his valedictorian-sharp brain saw right through it. "Oh, you so do," he smiles.
Not-so-thankfully, Dustin and his valedictorian-sharp brain also think about it. "You know, now that I'm looking back on it...she might like you, too."
Mike blinks, biting back some sort of sarcastic 'you don't say?'.
"Nope." He shakes his head. "I think that...she does not like me."
"Oh, come on, Michael! She wouldn't be voluntarily hanging out with you all the time if she wasn't into you, would she?"
"Thanks?" Mike couldn't tell if that was supposed to be a compliment or an insult. "And we're..." He runs a hand through his dark curls. "We're just friends, Dustin."
Dustin wasn't listening. He was thinking again. "What do you guys do when you're hanging out anyway?"
"Uh, weâwe eat," he sputters. "Eat."
"Eat?" Dustin cocks a brow.
"Yeah," Mike nods furiously. "Like, food. We eat food. At shops and diners and stuff."
"You just...eat? You can do that with the rest of us, too, you know. Oh, we should all go get pizza. We should just make it a thing, though. We can make a list of who gets to pick where and when, and we can do rotations, like once a week or month or something."
Mike blinks. It's not that he minded going out to eat with his whole friend group, just that Dustin was implying that it was going to become a group thing. That's the part he didn't like. Getting alone time with Y/N when they didn't have full guard up for someone watching was hard enough as it isâhe didn't want even less of it.
"Ehh...I mean, it sounds really fun," he nods along. "But don't you think it would be hard to plan? Like, you and I have Hellfire, Lucas has basketball, Will is always painting...I don't think it'd work out."
"Well, we have the whole summer. And it's our last summer together before we're all gone our separate ways for college. We should do it. Make more memories."
An uncomfortable guilt washes over Mike. Dustin was right. Mike hadn't wanted to think about everyone leaving, not yet, but they really only did have this one last summer before having to go about their lives on their own. He tips his head back, running his hands through his hair again, tugging at the strands slightly in agitation. "That's true," he mutters. "I just...I dunno, I like hanging out with just Y/N sometimesâ"
"No," Dustin interrupts. "You like like Y/N."
"I don't!" He huffs, crossing his arms across his chest.
"Yes you do," his friend tells him matter-of-factly, his tone alone serving to be the finger that pushes nonexistent glasses up the bridge of his nose. "It's just like back in middle school, except she likes you back this time."
"Oh my GodâI don't like her, she doesn't like me back, there is nothing going on between me and Y/N!"
"Okay, yeah, but there might as well be!" Dustin argues. "You act as if she's your girlfriend anyway, soâ"
"That's because she is my girlfriend!"
Mike's loud yell is followed by a silence even louder.
Then Dustin breaks it. "That isâIâyou've really contradicted everything you were just saying."
"I know," Mike sighs. "We're going out, though. We've been going out. I just got so frustrated trying to convince you that nothing was happening that it...slipped out of my mouth."
"What the fuck?" Dustin looks appalled. "You're actually with Y/N. You and Y/N Harrington." His eyes go even wider. "You are dating Steve Harrington's little sister. Oh, shit; Mike, you're gonna be dead."
"I know," he repeats. "Believe me, we've been keeping this quiet forâ"
He's interrupted by the creaking of the door, a gaggle of freshmen and sophomores bursting inside the room, tossing their backpacks onto the floor and settling into their self-designated spots, waiting eagerly for the two older boys to say they can get started.
You're filling me in on everything later, Dustin mouths to Mike with a stern expression before sitting to face the rest of the club and starting the session.
Mike slumps into the seat next to him. Oh, dear God...
(Back to your pov!)
You walked Mike to Hellfire the next week, too, and you'd planned for him to come over after to make out do homework, because Steve had work late.
Because he wasn't free to pick you up today, you walked home, which you didn't mind. It was sunny but not blinding with a slight breeze that made the temperature more than bearable.
You push the door open, letting some of the early summer air into the Harrington House before scanning the lower level for your brother, just in case. If he was home, you wanted to make sure he was tired and knocked out before Mike got here, to make your little rendezvous as stress-free as possible.
"Steve?"
No answer. You check the pantry, and call for him again. Still nothing. So he was still at work. Or on the way home. After pulling a boxed lasagna from the freezer and sticking it in the oven, you cross your fingers for the former, and drag your backpack upstairs to finish some schoolwork.
Your brother arrives later than usual, while you're in a whole different realmâwalkman on, headphones on, music blastingâscribbling down notes from your Physics textbook, pushing your bedroom door open and smacking the back of your head.
"Ow!" You push his hand off of you. "What the fuck was that for?"
"I called you down like, twenty times. I took the lasagna out of the oven and it's getting cold."
Oh. At the mention of your dinner, you realize just how hungry you are, and sit up from your chair. "Let's eat, then," you say, already walking out of the room.
"Uh-uh." Steve shakes his head. "Not so fast."
"What?" You groan. "Why?"
"I drove Henderson home from his club today."
That's why he was late. "Okay," you say. "What about it?"
"I, uh, heard something pretty interesting from him."
"Ooh, did they finally get past the demon shark and into the caverns?" You've never seen a more confused look on someone's face until now. "Sorry. Mike was telling me about the club campaign."
Your brother's eyebrows raise and he nods slowly, crossing his arms across his chest. "Mike. Wheeler. Michael Wheeler. Funnily enough, that's what Henderson was telling me about."
Shit. "...Why?" You hesitate before asking your next question. "What'd Mike do?"
"Well, according to my sources, Y/N, Mike did the one thing I told him and all his little friends not to do, and that was get together with you."
You freeze. Your mouth opens but your brain can't form words for it to get out. "Iânoâweâ"
"Save it. How long has this been going on for?"
Your mind catches up, scrambling to come up with anything that can save yourself. "No, Mike and I aren'tâ"
Tap. Steve's head spins to the source of the sound, yours following quickly. Tap. Your window.
Fuck.
He takes a step, pushing your curtains to the sides and pulling up the blinds. And his eyes, just as expected, meet a pair of round brown ones, that widen, breaking eye contact with Steve immediately, scanning the room for you.
You look at him apologetically, then turn your gaze to the floor. I can't do this. You hear the hiss of the window's glass being pushed up, and the slight breeze from earlier has kicked up, blowing into your room and through your hair, sending goose bumps down your arms.
"What are you doing at my sister's window?" Your brother asks your boyfriend, peering down at him.
"I learned from you. I guess the student becomes the master," Mike shrugs.
Steve's hands curl into fists. "I'm so tempted to push him off," he mutters, still staring at Mike through the open window.
"Whaâno!" Whatever glue had stuck your feet to the floor this whole time seemed to have worn off now, and you walk over to the window, pushing your brother aside and sticking both arms out to help pull Mike up and into your room. "Hi," you whisper once he's fully inside, plucking a green leaf off his sleeve.
"Hey," he says, his gaze going to the man next the two of you, hands on his hips and a deadly stare. "IâhowâI'll be sneakier next time."
"Oh, don't worry about that, Wheeler," Steve smirks with mock concern. It drops fast. "Henderson told me everything."
"Oh my God," Mike groans, running his hands through his hair. "He told? I literally said not toâ"
Your brows shoot up. "Wait, Dustin knows? Since when? How much? Why didn't you tell me?"
"Since Hellfire last week," Mike explains. "I told him...pretty much everything, which was a dumb mistake now that I know where his loyalties lie. And I was going to tell you about it but you just always talk to me about more fun stuff and I got so lost in that that I forgot to mention it and...I'm sorry," he sighs.
"It's okaâ"
You're cut off by your brother. "Um, no! It's not okay! Nothing about this is anywhere near okay! You two have been sneaking around behind my back for...God knows how long, and you..." He points a finger at Mike. "I trusted you. What was the first and only rule I ever asked you to follow?"
"Y/N's off limits," Mike mutters.
"And what do you do? You break it!" Steve throws his hands in the air. "I'm going to ask this one more time, and I better get an answer. How long has this rule been broken?"
You look at Mike. Mike looks at you. You hold up a hand, counting on your fingers. "Like..."
Steve lifts a brow expectantly.
"Okay, don't be mad," you murmur.
"I'm already mad, Y/N. And I don't think I can get any madder."
"That's great," you laugh nervously. "Like, eight months?"
Mike's eyes widen and his lips curve upward. Steve's eyes widen and his jaw falls through the floor.
"Eight months? You have been dating Wheeler behind my back and lying to me for EIGHT MONTHS?"
"I'm sorry," you start, pursing your lips. "I just didn't want you to stop me from seeing Mike."
"Oh, I willâ"
Mike shakes his head. "No, you won't." His lips are set in a firm line and his eyes have this determined look to them, the one you usually love to see, except right now.
"Wheeler," Steve exhales. "One more word out of you and I will throw you out of that open window."
"Steve!" You cry, cutting through the stiff tension between your brother and your boyfriend. "This is why we didn't tell you. You get all...Steve."
"I am Steve," he huffs. "And do you not think it's justified? I mean, this is Wheeler we're looking at here; he's a boy. I'm trying to protect you!"
"From what?" You scoff incredulously. "For the whole eight months we've been going out, Mike has been nothing but kind and patient with me. He's never pressured me into anything, he's never hurt me, and he's never taken me for granted. He helps me when I need it, he laughs at my jokes and he actually cares about what I have to say. He makes me feel safe, and protected, and light, and Steve, he makes me really happy. I didn't want you to break us up because I didn't want to lose that. So I'm sorry I lied to you, but I'm not sorry for being with someone who means as much to me as Mike does. That's not something that should upset you."
Your brother's eyes soften visibly. "...I'm sorry, too. I know I get protective, but I just really don't want to see you hurt. Especially by some dumb kid who can't treat you right. I want you to be happy. And if Wheeler makes you happy, then..." his face twists into slight disgust. "Date him."
A gasp leaves your mouth? "Really? No shovel talk, no nothing?"
"Nope," Steve shakes his head.
"Thank you!" You squeal, rushing over to him and throwing your arms around his torso, squeezing him tight. "You're my favorite brother!"
"I'm your onlyâwhatever. Thanks." He pulls away from you. "But no sneaking in." He looks between you and Mike. "And no touching. Absolutely no touching. You need to stay at least three feet apart from each other at all times, andâ"
"Steve."
"I'm serious. And that doesn't look like three feet, so one of you needs to move aside a little bit."
You and Mike both stay still. Then Steve gasps, facepalming.
"Y/N, we forgot about the lasagna. Could you toss some slices in the microwave? One for Wheeler, too."
His last sentence is an absolute delight to your ears. "Really? Yes! Totally!" You step out of your room, running down the stairs to the kitchen.
Once you're out of earshot, Steve steps closer to your boyfriend.
"What are your intentions with my sister?"
Mike rolls his eyes. "I care about her, Steve." His voice softens a bit. "More than anything. She's my favorite person. I wouldn't ever do anything to hurt her, I just want to see her smile. I want to make her happy. I promise you nothing is going to happen to her; not while I'm with her."
Steve nods. "You know the bat that's been in my trunk for years?"
"What could I possibly have said wrong?" Mike huffs.
"Nothing," says Steve. "But if you break that promise you just made, if you hurt Y/N in any way, you'll have the privilege of being the first one to see it since 1984. Understand?"
Mike stays silent.
"I said do you understand, Wheeler?"
"Yeah," he says, voice quiet. "I understand."
He knew he'd never ever break that promiseâeven if Steve hadn't threatened him with a bat.
can i request a steve x gf! reader fic where the reader and him met through working and shes constantly saving up money because her family doesnt come from much and left during the earthquake but she doesnât want to tell steve abiut her money problems so she skips meals and her own needs to offer to buy things for the kids and even a big gift for steveâs bday or anniversary? maybe steve one day sees her money box or handwritten expense sheet or even she skipped too many meals and doesnt feel well and they have a heart to heart âşď¸ steve jjst wants to provide for his girl
my heart is full of doubt
pairing: steve harrington x reader
summary: request above!
word count: 3.3k
content warnings: financial insecurity, reader is self-sacrificing, not proofread, idk what else
author's note: hi!! thank you so much for this request my angel! and thank you for being so patient with me!
¡ ¡ ââââââ ę°ŕŚÂˇâŚÂˇŕťęą ââââââ ¡ ¡