k

20 , khmer & mexican , infp

[miniy00ng1]

Drunk

Mike Wheeler x Female!Reader

warnings/tags: slight season 5 spoilers!!!, underage drinking, vomiting, established relationship, momma steve to the rescue <3

summary: mike is an asshole who doesn't think before he speaks and causes you to feel insecure in your abilities to contribute to the team. you get drunk!

wc: 1602

find my masterlist here!

hello lovlies!!! i am back with a mike wheeler fic this time! there will be a part two that will come out in due time. i also have a few other ideas floating around in my head so stay tuned for those as well! thank you to everyone who showed love and enjoyed my previous fic, i really appreciate it! anyways hope y'all enjoy!

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The music blared from the speakers causing the house to shake, the bass thumming deeply in your chest.

Sweaty bodies engulfed your frame as they danced, drank, and stumbled about. You were not nearly drunk enough to be enjoying this house party, not that you would typically enjoy this type of scene anyway.

You were however, extremely upset at your boyfriend, Mike Wheeler, and like any other rational teenager, decided to get drunk to fix your problems.

Squeezing past the tightly packed crowd, you found your way into the slightly less crowded kitchen, where a smorgasbord of alcohol and chip bags littered the countertops.

You plucked a red solo cup from the counter and ladled the mixture of juice and alcohol into your cup.

Quickly tipping the cup into your mouth you feel the burn of the alcohol hit the back of your throat. A wave of nausea took over as the alcohol settled into your stomach and you inhaled, in through your nose and out through your mouth.

You repeated this process two more times; refilling your cup, consuming the liquid, and fighting through the sick. Now you stood, holed up in a corner of the kitchen as you felt the alcohol course through your veins.

“It’s not fair Mike,” you call out at your boyfriend, who you notice begins to take larger strides up the hill towards The Squawk radio station.

“It’s not about fairness, it’s about being safe and making smart decisions,” Mike calmly replied back, not bothering to look at you.

You rolled your eyes at his stupid excuse, “So you’re saying that it’s a smart decision to strip me of my role and replace me with Eleven, and no offense to El, but in what universe is that the best option?”

You throw your hands in the air in exasperation, “She’s the one being tracked down by the entire fucking military!”

“Just drop it already. I’ve already to talked to the party and they agree that the two of you should swap. It’s better if you’re not out there,” Mike replied with a finality in his voice.

Annoyance began to gnaw at you, “No. I don’t think I will drop it. I was doing just fine out there, pulling my weight. I don’t understand why I can’t help anymore. This is stupid!”

Mike whips around with anger in his eyes, “El has powers! She can protect herself and you,” he pauses, “you’re just you. So just fucking drop it.”

Those words stop you in your tracks. Eleven has always been a sore spot in your relationship and Mike just hit you where it hurt.

You and the boys had been friends for as long as you could remember and you were the only girl in the group for a long time, that was until Eleven came along.

You didn’t dislike the girl whatsoever, if anything you were envious, some might even say jealous of her. Seeing her befriend the boys so easily and how enthralled they were of her and her powers made you feel easily replacable.

Those feelings only amplified when your longtime crush on Mike had been abruptly shut down when the two started dating. 

Eventually Eleven and Mike ended their relationship, deciding they were more compatible in a platonic relationship in comparison to a romantic one. The pair ended on good terms without any bad blood or awkward tension. 

Ending the relationship with Eleven was one of the best decisions Mike had ever made. He had come to the realization that he had feelings for you and pursued them.

After facing Vecna, he knew his days weren’t promised and made sure that the time he had with you was worthwhile.

Although your relationship with Mike made you the happiest person alive, there were still moments where your insecurities snuck up on you.

“You’re a real asshole Mike, y’know that?” Hurt laced your voice, “You think that I don’t know that I’m not special, that I can’t flip cars, or make the bad guys drop dead. I know these things Mike. You don’t have to rub it in.”

“You know that’s not what I meant,”Mike argued, beginning his descent back down the hill towards you.

“Don’t worry Michael, I know exactly what you meant,” you turn around walking away from Mike as he calls after you.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” A voice asked harshly, bringing you back to reality. Despite becoming increasingly more intoxicated as the seconds passed, you recognized this voice anywhere. 

A beat of silence went by as you chose to ignore your boyfriend’s question, “The silent treatment?” Mike furrowed his brows in anger, “Really? This is what we’re doing now?”

Mike grabbed ahold of your wrist, “Let go of me Mike,” you slurred, weakly attempting to free your arm from his grasp.

“No, we’re leaving. We are not having this conversation at Jackson Wang’s goddamn house party,” Mike spat out, adjusting his grip on your arm and guiding the two of you to and out the front door.

You stumbled behind your boyfriend as you made your way into the brisk night air. Goosebumps erupted throughout your body and you yanked your arm from Mike’s, using your hands to rub your arms for warmth, “I said to let go,” you mumbled out.

Mike stopped in his tracks and spun on his heel to face you, “You’ve got to be shitting me,” his face flushing as his annoyance grew, “It’s bad enough that you missed the crawl tonight, quit acting selfish and get in the van.”

Your eyes drifted past the brunette’s firgure to find your friends– Steve, Lucas, Dustin, and Robin scramble and pretend that they weren’t actively watching your lover’s quarrel go down. You felt your face grow hot in embarrassment, a stark contrast to the cool breeze nipping at your skin. 

“M’not selfish,” you stated slowly, “I’ve done everything for you guys. You’re the one who took that away from me today and gave it to her,” you poke your finger into Mike’s chest.

You didn’t mean to bring Eleven up, your frustrations truly lied in the fact that you once again felt helpless and replaced, but the alcohol clouded your thoughts making it a muddled mess. 

“Jesus, that’s what this is about? Mike questioned, frustration seeping out of his words, “You’re jealous of Eleven?” You let out a huff of air, you didn’t understand how he could be so stupid.

“I am not jealous of her but clearly you need her more than you need me, so don’t let me hold you back,” before Mike can come up with a retort you angrily retreat across the yard. From behind you, you can hear Mike stomp in the opposite direction and pulling open the van door.

“She’s not coming,” Mike states as he clambers into the van. The four friends look at each other as the brunette sits and stares out the window clearly fuming.

“Are you stupid?” Steve asks the younger boy.

Mike snaps his head towards Steve and glares, “No, seriously dude. Are you?” Steve asks again, “Because from an outside perspective, that was a girl who was begging to feel important, to be important. And her nimrod of a boyfriend basically just told her she wasn’t and let her walk away.”

For the first time, Mike didn’t have a rebuttal and just stared at Steve, his mouth gaping like a fish, “Whatever man,” Steve handed his keys to Dustin who was sat in the passenger seat, “You’ve started driving lessons right? Take everyone back to The Squawk, and I swear to god Henderson, if you crash this van…” Steve trailed off. 

Opening the driver side door Steve jumped out, “Where are you going?” Dustin cried out.

“To find her. We all know how dangerous Hawkins is, there’s no way I’m letting one of you guys stumble home in the dark, especially not this idiot’s poor girlfriend,” Steve gestured his head towards Mike’s direction, “Wh–,” Steve slammed him door before Mike could get out another word.

Steve beelined towards the direction you disappeared in, hoping to find you as soon as possible. When he found you, you were doubled-over emptying your stomach’s contents onto a lawn. He gingerly approached you as to not startle you, and gently rubbed circles onto you’re back.

“There you go, get it all out,” he patted your back as you continued to vomit. Once you finished, you turned to face Steve. Your eyes watery and your nose running, from both puking and crying. Another sob escaped your lips and Steve pulled you into a brotherly hug, once again rubbing your back.

“I know, I know. Boys are stupid, trust me I know how they think,” Steve said attempting to console you.

“I know I’m not special, but I try my hardest and I would do anything for this, for you guys. I would die for anyone of them,” You blubber, hiccuping inbetween words.

Steve pulls away from the hug and grabs ahold of you shoulders, “Don’t say that. That you’re not special. What you just said, there aren’t many people who would do that for their friends. You’re so brave and so smart and a great asset to our team. And Mike…He knows this, he’s just scared.”

You blink slowly at Steve, tears still blurring your vision, “Scared of what,” you ask.

Steve sighs, how does he always end up giving life advice to children. He wraps his arm around your shoulder, “It’s not my place to say,” the two of you start in the direction of your house,” Let’s get you home kiddo, you are drunk as a skunk.”

[anonyymouslyyours]

the concept of f!reader & mike being a band/music duo & mike producing while reader writes and sings..... would be so cute to read esp with fluff🥹✌️

the concept of this since finn used to be in a band... i'm making this modern!au

i'm imagining it all started when mike heard you sing for the first time, maybe like joking karaoke at a party or something. and he was honestly surprised, because wow, you actually sound really amazing, like angelic, and all of a sudden he's wondering how he didn't know this about you when you've literally been friends for so long!

he asks you about it after, and you sort of brush him off, maybe embarrassed. but mike is very persistent, and eventually you tell him that you actually write some of your own stuff. just as a little hobby to pass time. and of course he manages to convince you to show him some of your lyrics. you agree, a little hesitantly, so he comes over to your house a few days later. you show him your songs that you've been working on, and literally have to cover your face and hide while you wait for his reaction. but he's so sweet, and tells you that you write beautifully, and the lyrics and so smart etc.. etc.. etc..

and then he drops the question; would you ever want to actually make and release music?

and at first your like... no way, but as i said mike is very persistent. so he convinces you to do, and eventually your recording vocals on voice memos on your phone, and mike's staying up all night learning how to use production software like ableton live and watching tutorials and stuff. he comes to you the next day, telling you all about how it works and how he thinks you guys can actually make something really good together, and your honestly a little shocked because he's just so committed to the idea of you guys making music together.

you spend a long time working on your first song, like so many hours at his house re-recording and listening to loops and clips over and over again until it sounds just right.

when you put out your first song, with your own lyrics and vocals and mikes production your surprised how much attention it gets. i mean, obviously all your friends support you guys but you get some attention from other people in the area as well. you guys are super hard working, sort of spurred on and inspired by the other. your working together late most nights, going over different sounds and versions of lyrics. you get a mic to record proper vocals, and mike also getx a launchpad for MIDI sound control, and he's thinking about actually learning to play guitar. sometimes on particularly late nights you get distracted when your trying to make stuff with him because he's just so focused and talented, and he always tells you how amazing you sound, and how well your doing...

eventually you've actually gotten bigger and have enough songs for an ep! mike insists you should reach out to record labels or something.. or at least do some kind of marketing on social media. you agree, and it kind of snowballs from there.

let me know if u want smth else like.. when they get a bit more famous, or if they start dating orrr like specific scenarious like a studio session or smth :) i love this idea!

[reignpage]

hey, wifey... just checking you still love me <3

Synopsis: frat boy!gojo, your boyfriend, got himself blocked on all of your socials. it was his fault, even he knows that - spamming your girl with dick pics whilst she's studying for an important exam was only ever going to end one way. you've practically forced him to resort to a means of communication he didn't know still existed. and well, he's gonna have fun with it. Warnings: some sexual content, 18+, cursing, college au, can be read as a standalone but is a part of my EdenU au, gojo is dramatic, reader is done with him, reader is goth and female, established relationship, not proofread

From: [email protected] Subject: why do you hate me?

Dear most gorgeous girl in the world,  You’re killing me.  Please unblock me on iMessages, Insta, Snap, Facebook/Messenger, Whatsapp, X (sorry Twitter or whatever liberal agenda you’re on now), Discord, Reddit, Letterboxd, LinkedIn, Spotify, and Tumblr. How did you even know I was stalking you on Tumblr? Do you have a girlfriend sixth sense? Like does your clit tingle when you realise I’m near? Cause my balls speak to me when you’re within a mile radius, like “yeah, boys? you feel her? where? lead the way!” If you gave me a chance, instead of instantly blocking me (heartless meanie), you’d know I am very, very apologetic. I’ll stop spamming you my dick pics, even though you should be honoured to receive reminders of how hard just the thought of your name makes me. Love,  Your sad big-dicked daddy :(((

From: [email protected] Subject: email? really?

Dear Gojo Satoru,  Clearly you can’t take a hint. Let me spell it out for you. I. Am. Busy. Leave. Me. Alone. Unhappily,  Your girlfriend P.S. Do not call yourself ‘big-dicked daddy.’ It upsets me greatly.

From: [email protected] Subject: keep being mean to me please im close

Dear adorable goth baby,  You’re so hot when you’re being mean. I already know you’re frowning in that cute way that makes me want to smother you in kisses and you’re rolling your eyes so hard NGH! I already said I’m sorry.  Please give me another chance. I’m so damn bored I started playing spin the bottle alone in my room. I made out with that picture of you sleeping with drool down your chin. Picture You was even getting handsy. ‘Down girl!’ I said. ‘Bad!’ Stay tight,  Toru (not Gojo Satoru, that’s like a slur coming from you, very triggering stuff) P.S. I am your big-dicked daddy tho I’m confused?

From: [email protected] Subject: shut up

Satoru,  I gave you multiple chances when I asked you to stop and give me at least 5 hours to study before we go out for dinner and I entertain you, you giant freaking child. But no, you just had to hound me with your dick, like I was supposed to be dickmatised and persuaded to drop everything at your beck and call.  Fuck, I’m getting mad all over again.  Stop emailing me. You’re gonna see me at 7pm for our date anyways. You can last 4 more hours. Yours not for long,  Girl who just wants to pass

From: [email protected] Subject: my bad bro

Sweetiepie :( I’m sorry.  I thought it was gonna motivate you to work hard. Pwease forgive me. Pwease? Towu is vewy vewy sowwy.  In fact, I’m so so so sorry, I’ll pay for dinner tonight. Scout’s honour. Asking for mercy and forgiveness,  Your boyfriend no matter what

From: [email protected] Subject: dinner? that the best you can offer?

You always pay for dinner. Last time I offered, you damn near wrestled me in the middle of the restaurant so you could get your card out first. We’re still banned from there, remember? Btw, you were never a Scout, don’t play with me.

From: [email protected] Subject: you gotta address me and sign off!

Dear love of my life who doesn’t understand how email etiquette works,  Of course I always pay for dinner — you’re broke and your family is destitute, I remind you lovingly. But even if you were as rich as me, or even richer (which isn’t possible, not to flex), I would still pay every single time. It’s the least I can do for reparations for the violence committed by my gender against yours. Plus, that restaurant sucked anyway — the owner is problematic towards immigrants and the servers don’t even know if the meat is locally and ethically sourced, like hello??? In the big 2025?!? How’s studying going? Do you need a snack or a smoothie to boost you?  I can drop by. Promise I won’t linger. I just didn’t see a purchase on my card for breakfast or lunch. Please don’t starve. If I can’t watch your ass jiggle when I hit it from the back, I’m gonna be devastated.  Yours most sincerely,  Satoru P.S. You have to be a Scout to say Scout’s Honour? Crazyyyyyy

From: [email protected] Subject: so fucking bossy omg

Dear Satoru (happy now?), Please don’t remind me of my family’s shortcomings. You know I like to pretend I came from a normal background. And stop being more woke than me. It’s hot. Studying’s fine, I guess. I think I forgot how to study. I’ve missed a lot of content too. If a certain someone hadn’t been clinging to me so tightly every morning, maybe I wouldn’t be so behind. God, you make my life so hard.  A smoothie and pastry would be lovely, actually. I can’t be bothered leaving my room to get some food. Just drop it off outside and disappear by the time I open the door — if I see even a glimmer of white hair, I’m going to freak.  Thanks. Love begrudgingly, A girl who’s gonna fail her exam

From: [email protected] Subject: you're not gonna fail

Dear cutie,  I don’t cling to you that hard. You’re dramatic. I wonder where you got that from. And last I checked, we have a safeword you can use anytime to get me away from between your legs if you really wanted to get to class. But I like our game where you pretend you’re not just as obsessed with me as I am with you (I know you get all hot and bothered when I reference Marx, dirty girl) Food’s outside babe. The line was stupid long and I ran into Fushiguro — remember the guy I told you has the highest body count on campus? He’s in a relationship now and he’s so pussywhipped lmaoooo Couldn’t be me. Hoping you’ll stuff your face and get all the brain power you need,  Satoru

From: [email protected] Subject: not impressed

I told you to disappear before I could see you.  You didn’t have to kiss me and hump my leg you animal. My neighbours were NOT happy with the pornographic noises you made, asshole.  Yeah, I remember Toji. Cool dude. Always wearing gym wear no matter the weather and for some reason hates you. Don’t make fun of him for being loyal and loving to his girlfriend. You’re probably so much worse. I envy his girlfriend. She probably doesn’t have to put up with a yapper who spams her with dick pics. Thank you for the food though. Very appreciated. What I didn’t appreciate, however, was the number and the smiley face on my drink. I already told you, if someone tries to hit on you, bark at them and tell them you have a girlfriend you worship endlessly. 

From: [email protected] Subject: EMAIL. ETIQUETTE. COME ON.

Look: Dear angry girlfriend I do in fact worship endlessly and beyond,  I’m sorry I didn’t follow your exact orders but I desperately needed a kiss from my girl. If I don’t get my daily dose, I wilt, like a rose. You know this.  And disrespectfully, f your neighbours. It wasn’t anything they hadn't heard from us before. Sensitive ears ahhh About Fushiguro — he does not hate me. Why does everyone say that?  We’re actually besties. We’re like dumb and dumber, but dumber is him obvi. Plus, once he gets some shots in him, he’s super in love with me. I get more over the clothes action from him than from you lol You never need to thank me for feeding you. I fear that’s like bare minimum. Get those standards up girl. Oh and sorry about the drink. I didn’t even notice. Leave it outside your door and I’ll get you a new one. I’ll even make a scene and call the manager over. Maybe I’ll buy the store and get everyone fired. Just give me the word babe. Yours forever,  Satoru 

From: [email protected] Subject: YOU ARE EXHAUSTING

Dear my sweetest, most frustrating boyfriend, Fine, I’ll forgive the kiss (I might have needed it too). And yeah, f my neighbours because the guy on my left loves playing Doctor Who Season 8 on repeat and on full volume every night like clockwork. It’s not even the best season! Forget about the drink. Just don’t ever go back there again. Number and smiley face aside, the drink is abysmal and tastes like bog water. Pastry is great though. 10/10 You’d really make a scene for me? Yours occasionally,  No longer starving girlfriend

From: [email protected] Subject: awww I knew you loved me really

Dear the Morticia to my Gomez,  I’d make a scene for you at the drop of a hat. I’d serenade you in malls, on campus, in a Michelin star restaurant, and in a lecture. Heck, I’d yell ‘BOMB’ in an airport if you asked me to – just maybe not an airport we frequent. There’s quite literally nothing I wouldn’t do for you. If you didn’t know that already, then I’m not as great of a boyfriend as I thought I was. I will remedy that immediately, my goddess eternal. Obsessedly yours,  Your husband in every way but legally (we can fix that)

From: [email protected] Subject: ugh

Dear Toru,  Stop being sweet. It’s disgusting. Come inside already. I’m done pretending I’m getting anything from the textbooks. I’m only giving myself a headache.

From: [email protected] Subject: woahhhh

You can tell I’m outside???

From: [email protected] Subject: you're loud as hell

I can hear you giggling at my emails, Satoru. You’re probably sitting on the floor, leaning against my door. 

From: [email protected] Subject: just got shivers

Damnnnn are you sure you’re not a witch?

From: [email protected] Subject: well?

Are you coming in or what?

From: [email protected] Subject: yippeeeee

Okay okay, yes I am. LOVE YOU BABY <3

[wildpalmtrees]

you can call me ❝honey❞ if you want ⋮ mike wheeler bf hcs

・mike talks for hours on end about dungeons & dragons. like actually. he once spent a whole date bragging about the (supposedly) most epic campaign he had—with you occasionally interrupting to ask about certain things you didn't understand. he loves that you seem interested in it too, and that you're paying attention the whole time. mike can only ever really talk about d&d around dustin and them, so you caring about what he has to say means so much to him.

・and as much as he loves talking, he loves writing to you even more. sometimes it'll be long letters, like pages upon pages long, that he hands to you at school, but tells you to read it when you get home because he's shy. and they'll be the most heartfelt things you've ever laid our eyes on.

other times, it's small notes. he'll compliment you via sticky notes where it goes somewhere along the lines of "your hair is so cute today. it's always cute." (plus a little drawing, most likely a comic book reference.) and put it on your composition book during class, which makes you turn around to look at him and grin, but you notice he's already staring at you.

・there's no surprise mike's also a big physical touch person. that's how he expresses his feelings (besides his writing) most of the time: by constantly reassuring not only you, but himself of the admiration he feels for you. whether that be his arm hanging over your shoulders, or holding pinkies during passing period. mike tries to not be too overbearing in front of people, but he'll still find a way to feel your warmth. hell, even just slight grazes of his fingers against your arm is enough for mike, and that's just when you're at school.

・when he's over at your house, he'll always manage to end up laying on your chest as you guys talk. it doesn't even matter what position you guys start out cuddling with. mike just loves resting his head on you. and his hand will probably be tracing little things on the side of your thigh as he gets sleepier and sleepier because you just smell too comforting and you feel too soft.

・mike loves dragging you to the corner of the gym afterschool to make-out. you'll just be walking out of class with your friends after the bell rung and mike's already outside—waiting. you wave goodbye to your friends and quickly go to give your boyfriend a peck and he leads you to the gym as he's asking about your day.

"oh, and at lunch—" mike cuts you off by dropping his backpack to the floor and pushing his lips against yours. you move your hands up to his abdomen, feeling the navy cashmere sweater he had on before you tugged on it, pulling him down so that he's not just kissing your top lip. "sorry, you can talk," he murmurs, moving his mouth down to your neck. you put on the perfume he gifted you, how sweet.

halfway through kissing though, you grab onto his wrist, which makes him look at you, then down to his hand, then to his watch. "four? fuck! i forgot to pick up holly!" and within mere seconds, both mike and his backpack were out the door, leaving you to stand there left hanging and breathing heavy in the schools' gymnasium.

・mike's not big on nicknames; that's because he's quite nervous and doesn't know how to slide them into conversations. but he loves the ones you have for him: 'mikey, baby, babe, honey, etc.' they just sound so natural coming out of your mouth, like you were always meant to call him by those cute little alias'. and to be honest, you calling him 'mike' leaves a sour taste in his mouth now.

・drives with him are the best. after he got his license, his parents gave him their old car which he takes you everywhere in. of course, mike's a responsible driver and pays attention to the road. but he still always keeps his hand on yours, playing with your fingers as you look out the window into the endless forest that engulfs hawkins.

・he sneaks out past his curfew for you—but don't tell his mom. mike has to quietly tread down the stairs and into the garage so that he grab his bike (the car's too rowdy) and come over to your house at twelve a.m., on a school night nonetheless. and when he gets there, you're already by your bedroom window waiting for him.

[peachhcs]

you're  not  crazy

mike wheeler x reader (she/her pronouns)

summary: (SPOILERS FOR ST 5) mike stands you up on your third date, but you can't really find it in yourself to be angry. when he shows up late that night apologizing and trying to explain himself, he reveals the true reason why he missed again and you reveal some secrets of your own

word count: 2.8k

author's note: RAHH no surprise, i wrote more mike x reader. (i did write this like a few days ago now but it’s been in my drafts. working on everything else atm so here’s this to hold you over until i get to everything!! :)). i've been a mike wheeler fan since the show came out, but i wasn't writing publicly anywhere, so this has been fun getting to venture out and write for other characters :)) also thank u thank u for the support!! i also wrote an extended summary for this fic bc i lowkey gave it a lot of plot and depth LOL so read below for that

extended summary: your brother, seth, dies after being attacked by a demogorgon the same week will disappears into the upside down. no one speaks a word about it which makes him become secondary to everything that's happened. you know what happened though and you believe what you saw. for the next four years, you're the only one who can still see and talk to him, so he comes to see you. he sees you on the night mike stands you up for the third time and you reveal to mike later that you've known about the upside down all along and tell him about your brother.

st masterlist

you looked at the time on your watch. 7:47. your eyes bounced to the window like mike was going to just appear, but you knew that probably wasn't going to happen. he was 17 minutes late. this was a new record for him and also the third time he stood you up. a soft sigh escaped your lips as you looked around for the waitress to tell her your date wasn't coming and you wanted the bill.

"stood up again?" you jumped at the voice. when you spun back around you saw your brother sitting in the chair across from you—well a figment of your brother. he wasn't actually there and no one around you could see him.

you didn't know how he did it or why he appeared, but it's happened for four years now since he died. "what are you doing here?" you mumbled and hoped the older couple next to you didn't see you "talking to yourself."

"i figured you could use some company," he shrugged. your eyes glanced around the restaurant again. some kids from school were there and you really didn't want to become some laughingstock if they saw you talking to nothing. you hoped the waiter came back soon. "thanks, i guess," you hummed to him.

"what's this..the third time?" seth counted on his fingers. you rolls your eyes, "yeah. don't need to point it out to me. he's a good guy, i promise. he just.."

"he just...what, y/n/n? you've been going out with him for how long and he can't even show up for a simple dinner?" your brother had a lot less empathy than you did when it came to stuff like this. you really wished he was real so you could reach over and pinch his ear. he hated whenever your mom did that.

"he's shows up, seth. swear it. he just must've lost track of time or something. he's got a lot going on," you defended the boy that was supposed to be in the spot your brother was in. subconsciously, your gaze went to the window again one more time like you'd see him come biking over the hill and rush in and profusely apologize about how late he was.

"you've been saying that for almost a month. no guy your age truly has "a lot going on" besides seeing other girls," now that was a dig. you narrowed your eyes. "and what's that supposed to mean? you're suggesting he's talking to other girls?"

"could be. i dunno," seth shrugged.

"fuck off," you muttered and that's when the couple next to you finally looked over. your entire face reddened, "sorry. hit my knee," you lied and they just gave you a weird look before continuing their conversation. your waiter finally came back over, looking between you and the empty seat with a sad expression. you tried ignoring her sappy look.

"just the bill, thanks."

"here, let me pay," seth pulled out his wallet and slid you cash. this was the other weird thing. you could only see seth, but he accumulated things in whatever in between he still lived in and gave them to you and that made them become real in your world. the money he slid you appeared like magic on the table and you were so glad no one was looking as you swiped it and pretended like you just got it out of your purse. "thanks," you mumbled.

the waiter came back with your receipt and you just handed her the amount and tip right there so she didn't need to come back and you could leave faster. she thanked you, another sorrowful expression on her face for your date not showing. you kind of felt pathetic as you beelined past everyone to the door and just hoped none of your classmates saw you sitting there like a loser for 20 minutes.

seth followed you to your bike. "i think you should break it off with him." well, didn't he just have a lot to say tonight.

"i'm not gonna do that. you don't know mike like i do. he's a good guy, i swear. he's been through..a lot since last year. i'm giving him grace," you rolled you eyes, now talking freely because you weren't in the eye of everyone else talking to a mysterious imaginary figure.

"i think you're giving him too much grace, y/n/n. he's 17! he should know how to show up for a girl he "likes." i would at least."

the air quotes were harsh and again, seth was saved from another one of your punches because he was basically invisible and imaginary. "what if something happened? what if he got hit on his bike and couldn't tell me?"

this seemed to shut your brother up. you got on your bike to go home when a different thought crossed your mind. you went by mike's road anyway, you could just bike by to see if there was something going on. somehow seth had a bike so he biked next to you as you went towards home. even though he was annoying as hell, you appreciated the company and it was nice to see him.

he hadn't come see you in a few weeks. you didn't know how he decided to come see you in the real world, but whatever it was, you didn't question it and as far as you knew, your parents couldn't see him. only you could.

you turned down mike's road and your brother didn't even need to ask where you were going. he didn't say anything which you were grateful for because you really didn't want another snarky remark from him right now.

you started slowing when you got closer to mike's house. nothing looked unusual at least. the lights were on inside and you wondered who was home. you tried seeing if mike's bike was there or not, but you couldn't see anything and the garage was closed so you wouldn't know anyway. "nothing," you sighed. "can't you like..go and see where he is with whatever..stupid magic you're using to be here right now?" you turned to seth.

"i..it doesn't really work like that. it's complicated," he mumbled and that was your cue to not keep asking.

"whatever. i guess i'll go home now," you continued biking in the direction of your house feeling defeated about another missed date.

—

it was late when you heard a small tap on your window. you turned over in bed, grabbing the clock and mumbling something about how it was literally 12:30am. the tap came again and you finally sat up. you eyes adjusted to the dark room and thought it was seth being annoying, but you didn't see him anywhere. when the third tap came you finally directed your attention to the window.

you got up and carefully pushed your curtains open. when you saw a face on the other side you nearly screamed until they put a finger to their mouth and you realized it was mike. you were shocked, especially because you didn't know how he got up to your window. you pushed the glass up. "mike?" you whispered.

"hi. i'm sorry. i know it's late. it's so late. i know i messed up. can i come in?" he was rambling. you glanced behind yourself at your door. your parents would literally freak if they saw a boy in your room at this hour without permission, but you let him in anyway.

he kind of stumbled in. he looked a bit disheveled and he smelled like..like dirt? blood? you couldn't tell. you shut your window once he was in and when you turned to look at him better in the light, you saw the scrape on the side of his face and the other blood on his coat.

"holy shit, you're bleeding!" you exclaimed. mike touched his face like he just remembered he was. "shit, yeah. i am," he seemed unphased though.

"what happened? first you don't show to our date and then you come here past midnight bleeding and.." you stopped talking when you saw how regretful his expression looked. it kind of hurt you seeing him look at you like that. "i know, i know. i'm sorry. i'm so sorry. i-i just..i lost track of time..i was with my friends and we were.." he paused and that same look crossed his features. "i'm sorry. i didn't mean to stand you up again."

it was so hard to be mad at him when he looked at you like a lost puppy with those eyes. you huffed. "come on, i think i have stuff to clean you up with," you dragged him to your bathroom. the lights came on and you made him sit on the toilet while you rummaged through your cabinet for your first aid kit.

the two of you were silent. you didn't know what to say and neither did mike and it was pretty obvious he had a lot more to say than you did, but just didn't know how.

"well, look who finally showed up. mom would kill you if she knew you had a boy in here," your gaze shot to your brother who suddenly appeared again. he was standing in the doorway.

your gaze shot back to mike who was staring at the wall. you gave seth a glare as you went to mike with your wipes to clean the blood off of him. seth took your place at the sink and hopped onto the counter to watch. "does it hurt?" you wondered as you gently cleaned his cut.

"only a little. i can't even feel it honestly," mike said.

"look, i'm not mad you stood me up..i'm just worried. it's the third time," your voice softened.

"shit, i know. i know. i don't even mean to..i just..stuff happens and i get distracted and then i don't check my watch and then..when i do you're definitely gone for me to even make it up to you," he was always so vague when he told you why he missed a date. he only ever said "stuff" or "with his friends" and while you didn't want to believe the stuff seth was saying earlier, you were almost starting to.

"what kind of stuff?" you dared to ask because you'd eat yourself alive if you didn't.

you watched his expression morph into something unreadable and then he flinched when you cleaned with the hydrogen peroxide. "just...stuff. i don't know how to..how to explain it. you'd think i'm crazy," mike shook his head.

"it takes a lot for me to think people are crazy," at least he wasn't bleeding anymore and it was just dried blood. the cut wasn't even that bad and would definitely heal in a few days.

"well, you would definitely classify me as crazy. sometimes i even think i'm crazy."

you slowly sat down on the edge of the bathtub. your gaze swiftly flicked to seth and then back to mike. his eyes found yours too. "just..try me," you encouraged because if anyone was crazy, it was you for talking and seeing your dead brother of four years.

mike sighed and you saw the gears turning in his head as he found the right words to describe whatever it was to you.

"i missed our date because i had to go on this thing we call a crawl. the military base in the middle of town, the mac-z, i don't know if you know what's in there but there's this big hole the soldiers are guarding. there's a lot of scary, scary creatures in there. we call it the upside down. it's like.."

"it's like a parallel universe to ours?" you finished his sentence and mike had never looked so surprised before. "it's gotten worse, right?" you continued.

"what? h-how do you..h-how do you know about that?" mike stuttered and you shifted. your eyes bounced to seth on the counter again. he didn't say anything. mike followed your gaze and when he didn't see anything, he looked back at you with even more confusion.

"you're gonna think i'm even crazier," you sighed. "back in '83...there was a kid who died close to when will "died" but the news didn't really cover it because they didn't wanna freak out the town even more after barbara and will. do you remember seth?"

"seth..i mean..i think there was a seth in my sister's year or close to it," mike wasn't really following.

"yeah, well that was my older brother. he died four years ago. i literally watched a demogorgon eat him and then no one believed me because they just thought i was imagining things. they told my parents cause of death was suicide but i knew that wasn't true because i watched that creature eat him and then take him far into the woods probably to finish him off. no one said anything else after that," you explained and mike's eyes widened. you looked at seth again and he had a solemn expression on his face.

"holy shit, y/n. seth l/n. i should have known. oh my god. i'm so sorry. that's how you know about.."

"the upside down? yeah. i heard the talk. i mean i heard you guys talk at lunch sometimes too. the squawk? i figured out what robin was really saying when she went on the air and started with the upside down. i just...i don't know. i didn't wanna believe it was still bad. i mean after will came back i thought everything was okay again," you shrugged.

"i'm sorry. i shoukd have just been honest with you. i was just scared you were gonna think i was insane because..a lot of insane stuff has happened. the crawl tonight didn't go the greatest. that's why i lost track of time and by the time we got back, it was already too late," mike frowned and you quickly reached for his hand. he sent you a grateful smile.

"trust me, i know insane too," you looked at seth and mike followed your gaze again. he still didn't see anything but he knew you were seeing something. "do you..do you see seth?" he asked.

"are you gonna think i'm crazy if i say yes?"

"no."

"then yeah. i do. i don't know why and i don't know how, but he visits me occasionally and i see him as his 17 year old self before he died. he talks to me and i talk to him. no one but me can see him and he brings me stuff from...wherever he is..and then it becomes real," you probably sounded schizophrenic honestly. if you were listening to this from someone else you would definitely think there was something wrong with them.

"do you think..do you think it has something to do with the upside down? you said a demogorgon ate him? what if he's like..weirdly trapped in there but can still reach you here?" mike said and you didn't know. seth didn't give any indication that mike was right or not.

"i don't know. he won't tell me anything about how it works. i don't push either. i just..i've kind of accepted it?"

"is he here right now?" you nodded.

you watched as seth pulled out his wallet again. he opened up a scrap piece of paper and wrote on it with a pen he must've also had in his pocket. he then reached over to give it to you and like magic, mike watched how the paper appeared in your hand out of thin air. you showed mike how it said "hi mike" on it.

"holy shit," the boy gasped.

"is it schizo?" you worried you sounded and looked insane.

"no, no. it's..it's cool. it's like..it's like el's powers. el..she's this girl we met when will disappeared. basically, she can control things with her mind and kind of is a product or..created the upside down? i have no idea, but she can see people in this void. you're not crazy," mike assured and you giggled. he softened his gaze and squeezed your hand.

"i'm really sorry i bailed. i promise, it won't happen again, and if it does, i'll be honest. i really like you and i wanna make this work. i do. i promise i won't be some shitty boyfriend," mike's words made your heart flutter. you smiled and quickly collected him into a hug.

"i'm glad you're okay. i'm sorry your crawl went bad," you mumbled into his shoulder.

"if you're not tired, i can tell you more about it?" mike wondered. you smiled. "sure. i'd love that."

you helped him up and when you went to turn off the lights, seth was gone again. you kept his note on your desk though and then listened to mike catch you up on everything you missed in the last four years about the upside down.

[wildpalmtrees]

"study" sessions ⋮ tutor!mike wheeler hcs

you failed physics—horribly—and so as a result, you were forced to spend your friday's after school sitting in the dim-lit school library with mike wheeler. content: kissing/making-out, not proofread

・it truly did start off as mike just helping you with your homework; you both kept your distance and did your homework quietly.

・but what drew you to him was his patience and how he never made you feel dumb for not understanding something. whenever you would start to sound defeated, he'd reply with reassurance and calmness.

"i don't get this."

"that's okay," he'd say "we have time to go over it again." and give you a small curl of his lips as he reviewed the same topic again, for the third time.

・soon, your pinkies would start to overlap with one another as you closed the gap between your chairs, knees touching and all.

・and it sounds ridiculous, but mike got butterflies in his stomach whenever the very tips of your elbows would touch; the tension was killing him.

・mike was always sure of himself when he was talking about physics, it was something he was well-educated in. but when you would look up at him through your lashes, he felt his breath hitch and suddenly he was a mute man.

"divide both sides by two-thousand to get-" fuck, not again.

"mike?" you furrowed your brows together. "miiiike?"

he forced his eyes off of you. "sorry—what was i saying?"

・yet you both acted oblivious, which didn't last for too long since eventually you couldn't even focus on your work as you just stared at him talking about whatever the fuck—and he stared right back.

・of course though, mike didn't make the first move, he couldn't make the first move, he was too much of a scaredy-cat. you had to drag him to the back of the library where you finally kissed him.

・he smelled oddly good for a teenage boy, and not in an overbearing cologne way. his lotion smelled of crisp cedarwood with touches of vanilla and cinnamon, something you picked up as you prodded your nose in the crack of his neck every week.

・oh, and he's a great kisser.

・it took practice though, he was really nervous at first and didn't know what to do. there were times where he felt nauseous from how quick you were moving, and how saporous your raspberry lip-gloss tasted on his tongue.

・mike practically craved your always-fruity lip products that made you taste even sweeter than you already were. so by the end of each session, the cherry flavored lip-gloss you meticulously put on was wiped from existence.

・you loved touching his pillowy soft, lavender-scented hair. and every time you would tug on it, his perfectly-shaped brows would ever so slightly scrunch together. fucking hot.

・speaking of touching, mike loved to feel you with his hands. when they rested on your hips, you could feel the small calluses he developed; most likely from how hard he would grip his bike.

・he seemed to always want to touch you in any way. like, he just had to hold onto the hem of your stripped tank-top as you kissed, while his other hand rested on the side of your cheek, his thumb softly caressing your warm skin.

・he also loved putting his hand on your nape to deepen the make-out. sometimes it caught you by surprise, and you would let out small giggles at how much he craved your lips as he continued to kiss you everywhere, ignoring your stifles.

"mike," you whispered in between each connection of your lips "you know i'm not going anywhere, right?"

oh how he wished that was true.

・the once dreadfully long study sessions you had with mike wheeler seemed to now pass by in a second. even as you walked out the library doors at five pm, his lanky hand grabbed onto your wrist until the very last second.

mike really couldn't get enough of you.

[wildpalmtrees]

"i like noses, i like big noses." ⋮ mike wheeler drabble

you were charmed by mike's nose.

it was just so perfect looking to you. like, no matter how you looked at it, no matter the angle, his nose looked like it was sculpted by the gods.

whenever you reminded him of it, mike would purse his lips together as if he didn't believe what you were saying.

"i just don't understand how anyone could have a nose so beautiful," you admired, delicately tracing over the tip of his nose with your finger.

"can you not?" he would shoo your hand away, darting his eyes to the side to give you a look.

mike was always bullied in school because of it, so of course he hates his nose. in fact, back in the eighth grade he was thankful that his nasal bone broke and the doctor's had to bandage him up. those three weeks where he didn't see his nose were the best of times in junior high school.

but it just added so much to him. his nose is what makes him...him. there was no way to explain the phenomena that is mike wheeler's nose. just insert those movies where the love interest walks into a random gust of wind and they look absolutely alluring. that's how you looked at mike and his fucking nose.

you loved how it nudged against your shoulder when you guys would cuddle, how he always had to turn over to the side to kiss you so he wouldn't hit you with it. god.

sometimes, you would just stare at mike's nose for long periods of time when he wasn't paying attention. your eyes memorized the shape of it, and would draw each detail in your head before you fell asleep.

even when he wears sunglasses, you still admire how the bridge of them sat on his nose. mike can definitely rock any look with glasses, as you tell him all the time.

it annoys mike though. he's still in his denial stage and will occasionally get shy when you look at his face for too long, turning his head away so that you won't see what's "wrong" with him.

but truly, there is no flaw in mike.

[miffywhispers]

💌 i got my mind set on you ! a drunk mike wheeler confesses his feelings to you

miffy’s notes | fem!reader. mike and reader are both in uni. emetophobia warning. mike wheeler gets really drunk. fluff. lowercase intended. this one is pretty long oh goodness. also this is a part 1 of 2!

mike wheeler had long forgotten about his lunch, far too focused on sneaking glances at the girl that sat at the lunch table just opposite his. she was snacking on a granola bar and a packet of chips, laughing about something one of her fellow cheerleader friends said. he loved the way she laughed, the way she covered her mouth with her hand and the way she tilted her head back-

“if you keep staring at her like that she’s gonna get creeped the fuck out man,” the voice of lucas pulled mike back to reality, tearing his eyes away from the girl that he truthfully had been staring at for way too long.

“good lord yeah it’s actually creeping me the fuck out. you’re staring at her so much i’m genuinely like, worried for her safety man,” max chimed in, pulling her face into that of mock disgust.

“don’t fucking say that so loud she’ll hear you man,” mike argued, voice hushed and tone full of panic. this made the entire group erupt into laughter (except for mike) - loud enough for the group of girls sitting across from them to look their way in confusion. including y/n l/n - mike’s crush. he made eye contact with her for a split second before looking down at his plate in embarrassment. his cheeks burned.

the laughter died down and eventually everyone went back to eating. mike didn’t look y/n’s way again, a bit too worried that she’d caught on or that one of his friends would say something a little too loudly for his liking again.

dustin leaned over to mike, this time speaking only loud enough for him to hear, “well she is really pretty. although i didn’t expect you to have a thing for cheerleaders man.” mike just shrugged.

mike wheeler didn’t have a thing for cheerleaders.

mike wheeler had a thing for you.

even though you two weren’t friends and he’d spoken to you only a handful of times - he had a pretty big crush on you. the kind of crush that never really goes away. the kind of crush where just looking at them for too long makes your stomach knot up. mike knew how terribly cheesy it was, but since the day he saw you he could never get you out of his brain. you were up there living rent free, with your bright smile and yellow and green pom poms.

but he knew he didn’t stand a chance with you. this was highschool. real life. this wasn’t some movie. social hierarchies and cliques did exist. and there was no way a beautiful popular cheereleader with tons of friends would ever want anything to do with the nerd that played dnd with his friends every weekend.

but that was highschool. fast forward a few years, mike wheeler was starting his first year of college. the same college that y/n l/n coincidentally was also going to attend. he felt like this was the universe’s way of telling him to go for it. social hierarchies and cliques didn’t mean all that much in college. here, he could start fresh. he wouldn’t be known as the nerd who played dnd every weekend with his ‘loser’ friends. he could be whoever he wanted to be.

but mike still hated how lame he felt. pining after a girl for so long who hardly even knew him. but he wanted - he needed you to notice him. he’d liked you for so long and never even got the chance to say more than a few words to you. he was sure that maybe now, now there was a chance that he could get to know you. that you’d want to get to know him.

so when one of his friends mentioned an off campus party, an off campus party that you were going to be at.

he knew he had to go.

⚘

the sound of retching was enough to make you yourself puke. but you held it in as best you could, looking the other way and trying not to breathe in too deeply-as to not get the pungent smell of mike wheeler’s throw up in your nostrils.

moments before this you’d left the party and stepped outside to get away from the deafening music and suffocating smell of alcohol and sweat. you sighed, being sober at a party was not fun. you needed to stay sober due to the fact that you had some errands to run tomorrow and there was no way you were going to be hungover while shopping for groceries. this college and living alone shit was tough.

your clothes reeked of weed and your frilly white skirt was stained with beer from when some drunk idiot spilled it on you earlier - if you were drunk however, you probably wouldn’t have cared about either of those things. you wished you hadn’t come in the first place, the only reason being your dorm roommate practically dragging you along with her friend group.

but now she was wasted and humping her boyfriend in the laundry room. god.

you were about to head back to the dorms, deciding there was no way you could go back into that sweaty hellhole sober. your friend also had a (sober) ride back to campus, so you didn’t have to worry about that.

and that’s when you saw him - mike wheeler.

he was standing in front of a bush near the house, coughing.

well, he wasn’t coughing. he was actually gagging. he was gagging really fucking bad.

you only caught a glimpse of his face before he doubled over and started puking into said bush. but you knew it was him. you knew that face anywhere. you had a crush on the boy since like elementary school (despite only having a handful of conversations with him.)

little did mike wheeler know, that when he wasn’t looking at you - you were looking at him. he probably doesn’t remember, but back in elementary school he helped you when you fell face first into the ground after tripping over a rock. he helped you up and took you to the nurse. you were crying terribly, and he held your hand the whole way.

and ever since that day, the crush started. you were too afraid to talk to him again after the incident, a little bit embarrassed. but you still kept your eye on him all throughout elementary and middle school. and when you got to highschool and you saw mike wheeler standing by his locker talking to his friends about dungeons and dragons or something, the attraction and the crush just kept growing. you just wished he would approach your or something. but you thought you probably weren’t his type.

he was your type for sure though, you always had a thing for nerds.

you quickly ran over to him, rubbing his back gently in circular motions as he threw up. it genuinely seemed like it went on for an eternity. you could hear the poor guy sniffling from how badly he was throwing up.

once he seemingly stopped, you looked back at him.

“hey mike,” you spoke up, “is there anyone that could take you home?” “uh. n-no i came alone-”mike started hurling again, cutting off his own sentence. you grimaced, clamping your hand over mouth and looking away again as not to gag. you continued rubbing soothing circles into his back, you really felt for him. you remembered that in highschool, him and his friends were rarely ever at any of the many house parties that had been thrown in your junior and senior years. it wasn’t really their scene.

so you wondered why he came. you wondered what his motivation was for coming to a party alone and getting absolutely wasted for what appeared to be the first time.

your own thoughts were interrupted by mike finally standing up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. you got a good look at him for the first time tonight, his eyes were red and glossy - pupils blown wide. hair a little messy, much shorter than you remembered it being in highschool. it was a little curlier too, a few stray curly strands sticking to his forehead that glistened with a sheen of sweat. he wore a pair of light wash jeans and a t-shirt you could only assume was from a band you were unfamiliar with.

he was also, much taller. taller than you.

and even though he’d just spent the past few minutes throwing up into a bush, your stomach was in knots and your cheeks were burning from just looking at him. he still looked so handsome.

once he composed himself a bit, he got a good look at you. his eyes widened, and you swore he went even more pale. he looked like he was going to puke again.

from mike’s perspective, he did feel like he was going to puke again. the situation was already embarrassing enough, why’d it have to be you that caught him hurling like a loser.

“oh god. y/n. oh fuck oh god. shit. i-i’m s-hic-sorry about that. fuck. i think i’m actually f-fucked right now,” mike slurred, bringing his (big) hands to his hair and tugging at the strands in frustration. he swayed from left to right, and you quickly stepped forward to hold onto him so he wouldn’t go tumbling back into the bush he’d just hurled into. it was a bit awkward trying to help him seeing as he was much taller than you, his lanky frame nearly pushing the both of you over. but he gratefully and eagerly accepted the help, swinging an arm around your shoulders to steady himself. his grip on you was tight, and you felt like you were back in middle school again from how your stomach knotted up at his touch.

there was no way you could just leave him here.

“okay mike wheeler, let’s get you home.”

⚘

you thought the drive back to campus would be quiet, mike didn’t seem all that talkative. but that quietness was short lived. all of a sudden mike started talking, and he just didn’t stop. he’d said more words to you during the drive than you guys had exchanged in the many years you’d known each other.

“can i tell you a secret n/n? can i call you that… can i give you a nickname?” mike started, and before you could answer mike started talking again. “the secret is… wait you can’t tell anyone okay. i only came to the party ‘cause i knew youuuuu were gonna be thereee. but then when i was there you weren’t! ‘nd then everyone kept offering me drinks ‘nd i just took ‘em. ‘nd then when you did come to the party i tried talking to you! but i lost you ‘nd i couldn’t find you and then i drank a little m-m-moreee,”

your cheeks burned again. you knew he was drunk, but his words still made your stomach turn to jello. just for your own curiosity you asked him a question.

“because i was gonna be there? why’d you wanna see me mike?”

“because i likeee-hic-you,”

your grip tightened on the steering wheel. you knew better than to get excited. you knew better than to give it too much thought. this wasn’t a confession. mike was drunk. this was not your secret crush for so many years confessing to you. this was a man who had more than a little too much to drink drunkenly rambling to you. he most likely wouldn’t remember any of this in the morning.

you got to a red light, shifting your gaze from the road to look at mike next to you. he was already looking at you. slumped up against the seat with his head in your direction, dopey grin on his face and droopy eyelids.

you wished he wasn’t drunk. you wished he was sober. you wished he was looking at you like a lovesick puppy and confessing all these things to you sober.

“i like you too mike,” you said sincerely. you figured you might as well. he wouldn’t remember it in the morning anyway.

mike’s eyes widened at this, and he shot up so fast that you were a little worried he would hit his head against the car roof.

“oh my god! ohhhhhhh my god she likes me back. ‘m gonna call lucas and dustin and will and tell ‘em. i’ll even tell nancy she’s gonna be sooooo happy.“ he said excitedly, and you turned back to face the road once you saw the red glow in the car change to green.

you drove in silence for a while and you thought he was done spewing his word vomit, but it seemed he had one little drunken confession left in him. he turned to you again, and you didn’t see it - but mike wheeler looked at you with pure adoration, “you’re so pretty y/n. so soooo pretty. do youuuuu knowwww t-that? i always knew that. pretty inside and out. thanks for-hic-taking care of me.”

you laughed. a genuine laugh that bloomed from the depths of your chest. it was really nice hearing this from mike, even if he most likely didn’t mean it. you hoped he’d remember all of this tomorrow, maybe it’d give you both something to talk about. laugh about. maybe you could become proper friends when you were both sober.

and just like that, the rest of the ride was quiet again. it seemed like mike had fallen asleep. you were thankful for this, you didn’t think your poor little heart could handle hearing anything else drunk mike wheeler had to say to you.

[abbothecary]

Somebody Else | mike wheeler

summary: 1,5k. between the quiet ruins of post earthquake hawkins, mike and you, a former childhood friend-turned-petty rival, end up stuck sorting boxes together.

cw: childhood friends to rivals, petty teenage fighting, unresolved tension, teenage angst, mutual pining (in denial), awkward teens being awkward, english is not my first language xx.

currently playing: somebody else

The thing about Hawkins—now mostly stitched back together, but still carrying the shape of its scars—is that it never really went quiet. Not even after the gates closed. Not even after the ash settled. People kept pretending it did, carrying on with school and work and grocery lists, but underneath the normality, there was a hum. A memory.

Mike Wheeler felt it every time he biked past the old woods or the now-condemned Creel House, a low buzzing under his ribs like his bones remembered danger long after his brain tried to forget.

He felt it today too—but for a reason that had nothing to do with monsters.

She was standing on the Wheeler driveway when he arrived, arms crossed, expression sharp in that way he’d been trying very hard not to think about. She used to never look at him like that—not when they were younger, all part of the same messy group that played in basements and rode bikes until streetlights blinked on. But everything changed as they got older.

Everyone grew into different versions of themselves.

Somehow, she grew into someone who acted allergic to him.

And he—well, he tried not to think about her at all.

Tried.

“What are you doing here?” was the first thing she said, like the driveway belonged to her.

He blinked. “Uh… I live here?”

She rolled her eyes. “I mean out here. Your mom said you were going to help today.”

“I am helping,” he muttered.

“You’re late.”

“You’re not exactly my supervisor.”

“You’re late,” she repeated, stepping past him and heading toward the garage. Her shoulder brushed his as she passed—probably accidental, definitely irritating.

He stared after her, jaw tight. “Okay, great, we’re doing this.”

He followed her inside, into the clutter of dusty boxes Karen Wheeler had begged them to help sort through—old holiday decorations, forgotten toys, things Mike didn’t even recognize. The air smelled like cardboard and the faint hint of dust that rose whenever anything was moved.

She was already kneeling by a pile of boxes, tugging one open with too much force.

“You don’t have to tear the cardboard,” Mike said, crouching opposite her.

“I’m not tearing it.”

“You’re… ripping it.”

“I’m opening it,” she snapped.

He raised his hands. “Okay. Sorry. Opening.”

She gave him a look that could’ve melted metal.

And that was how it always went now. Petty, prickly conversations. Snide comments. A push-and-pull that neither of them seemed capable of stopping.

The thing Mike hated most—hated in a way that made his heartbeat stumble—was that they never used to be like this. When they were younger, she laughed at his jokes, even the stupid ones. She liked building forts and playing stupid lawn games the same way the boys did. They’d shared popsicles on summer afternoons after long biking trails. They used to get along without trying.

Now it felt like an electric fence between them.

“What’s this?” she asked suddenly, pulling out a worn cardboard tube.

Mike leaned in. “Oh. Old D&D maps. Will made those.”

She hesitated, her hand still on the tube. Something softer passed through her expression—nostalgia, maybe. He saw the exact moment she remembered being there when some of those maps were drawn, tossing dice onto the Wheeler basement carpet, arguing about spells, smearing Cheeto dust on character sheets.

Then she hid that softness again—pushing the tube toward him.

“You should put it somewhere.”

“You don’t have to be weird about it,” he said before he meant to.

She froze. “Weird?”

“Yeah, like—every time you look at anything from before, you act like it’s radioactive.”

“That’s not—” She shook her head, annoyed. “I’m not the one who changed.”

“Oh my God,” Mike muttered, sitting back on his heels. “Seriously? That’s your angle?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” he said, voice sharper than intended, “you started hating me for no reason.”

She scoffed. “I don’t hate you.”

“You act like you do.”

“And you act like you’re still twelve,” she snapped.

He blinked. That one stung. More than he wanted it to.

There it was—the sharp words, the unresolved feelings sitting beneath them like live wires.

He dropped his eyes to the floor. “Whatever.”

Silence seeped in—heavy, thick. She shifted, rummaging through another box, less violently this time. Mike found himself watching her hands instead of helping. He hated how familiar the shape of her knuckles was. Hated that he remembered her handwriting, her laugh, the way she used to knee him under the table when he annoyed her.

He hated a lot of things that weren’t hate at all.

“You did change,” she said quietly, without looking up. “After… everything.”

He exhaled, a small bitter sound. “So did you.”

That surprised her. She glanced at him, caught off guard. “Yeah. Well. Life happens.”

“You stopped talking to me.”

“You stopped trying,” she said—and there it was, the thing she’d never said before.

Mike went still.

Her throat bobbed. “Everybody else was dealing with stuff. You were dealing with stuff. I didn’t want to be… I don’t know. Another thing.”

“You were never just a thing,” Mike said before he could stop himself.

The garage felt smaller suddenly.

She looked down at her lap, small frown forming, as if she wasn’t sure how to respond to that.

He cleared his throat, trying to ease the weird tightness in the air. “Look, we don’t have to fight. Just—we can get this done and not bite each other’s heads off.”

She snorted softly. “You’re the one who said I ripped a box.”

“You did!”

“That’s not—” She burst into a reluctant laugh, covering her mouth.

Mike stared.

That laugh hit him like a punch. It was unfair how much he’d missed it.

She caught him staring and the laugh died, replaced by something more complicated. Her eyes flicked to his, and suddenly they were too close—knees nearly touching, shoulders leaning in without permission.

He felt the shift like the air thickened.

She noticed it too. Her breath hitched—barely, but he saw.

“You’re staring,” she whispered.

“So are you.”

It wasn’t hostile. It wasn’t snark. It wasn’t even sarcastic. It was just real, stripped down to something raw and unguarded.

Her gaze dipped—briefly, stupidly, dangerously—to his mouth.

And Mike Wheeler, who could face monsters and dimensions and hell itself, forgot how to breathe.

“Mike—” she whispered, voice unsteady.

He leaned in without meaning to. Not a full move, just a slow tilt—like gravity, not choice. She mirrored it, barely, the smallest lean, like she didn’t notice she was doing it.

His heart thudded violently.

Her eyes fluttered halfway closed.

The moment stretched thin, fragile, stupidly breakable—

Then the garage door rattled open.

“Kids? How’s it going in here?” Karen Wheeler called, stepping in with a laundry basket.

They shot apart like magnets flipping polarity. Mike nearly tripped over a box. She knocked over an entire stack of Christmas lights.

“Oh!” Karen blinked. “Did I interrupt something?”

“No!” they said in unison—way too fast.

Karen stared, suspicious. “Right… Well. Your lemonade’s on the table if you need a break.”

She left, the door clicking shut behind her.

Silence slammed down again, but it wasn’t the same silence as before. It was charged. Embarrassed. Breathless.

She pushed her hair behind her ear. “We, um… should get back to sorting.”

“Yeah,” Mike croaked.

They worked for another hour, barely speaking—but the tension sat between them like another person. Every time their hands brushed a box at the same time, they flinched. Every time they leaned too close, they froze.

And when they finished, standing in the driveway under the late sun, she hesitated before leaving.

“Mike?”

“Yeah?”

Her voice softened. “We’re not actually still twelve.”

He swallowed. “I know.”

“And I don’t—” She faltered. “I don’t hate you.”

He nodded, throat tight. “I know that too.”

She looked like she wanted to say more—something important, something that would tip everything over the edge. Something he wasn’t sure he was ready for.

But she didn’t.

She just gave him one of those looks—complicated, sad, hoping he’d understand.

Then she walked away.

Mike watched her go, heart beating too loud in his chest, feeling that hum again—the one that meant something was starting, or maybe starting again.

Something he wasn’t saying out loud.

Not yet.

[abbothecary]

The Louvre | mike wheeler

summary: 1k. mike tries (and fails) to pretend nothing happened, she pushes back, and the line between arguing and almost-confessing blurs. they don’t resolve anything… but they stop pretending there’s nothing to resolve.

cw: teenage angst, unresolved feelings, petty rivalry, argument as flirting, english is not my first language xx.

note: this is part 2 to this one shot. part 3? :)

currently playing: the louvre

By Monday, Mike was still thinking about the garage.

He told himself he wasn’t. He told himself he didn’t care. He told himself it had been the dust, the heat, the weird isolation of the Wheeler garage that had made things feel different. He could have blamed anything—summer humidity, Karen’s dramatic timing, maybe even the haunting trauma of nearly dying a few times.

But deep down, he knew it wasn’t any of that.

It was her.

And he hated it. Hated that his brain couldn’t drop it. Couldn’t drop her. The almost-lean, the almost-touch, the almost-kiss that wasn’t a kiss but still felt like something.

He’d rather go back to fighting monsters. At least those were straightforward.

And then—because the universe was mean—he spotted her at school.

It wasn’t even school hours yet; Hawkins High was still half-asleep. The morning air smelled like damp pavement, like the leftover fog from the Upside Down had never fully gone away. She stood on the steps, backpack slung over one shoulder, hair messy from the wind, flipping through a notebook like it had personally offended her.

Great.

Mike slowed mid-step. His friends weren’t here yet—Will had a later ride, and Lucas was on early basketball warmups. Dustin was… Dustin.

So it was just her.

She looked up at the same time he did.

Their eyes met.

And they both froze for half a second too long.

She was the first to break it, snapping her notebook closed and crossing her arms like she was preparing for battle.

“Are you stalking me now?” she asked.

Mike let out a short, humorless laugh. “It’s a school. People come here. Wild concept.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You’re funny this morning.”

“You’re annoying every morning.”

She scoffed. “Oh, so we’re doing this again.”

“We never stopped.”

She paused at that—just long enough for him to regret saying it. Her expression wavered, something softer slipping through before she masked it with annoyance.

“Look,” she said, adjusting her backpack strap, “about the other day—”

“Nope,” Mike said immediately, too loud. “We’re not talking about that.”

Her jaw dropped a little. “You’re the one who—”

“We didn’t do anything,” he snapped. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

He saw the exact moment her expression hardened. Like he’d slammed a door in her face.

“Right,” she said flatly. “Of course. Nothing.”

“That’s not—” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean—”

He didn’t get to finish.

“What’s going on here?” Lucas’s voice cut clean through the tension as he jogged up the steps, sweat still clinging to his forehead from practice. He looked between them, confused. “Did I interrupt a fight or…?”

“No,” Mike said.

“Yes,” she said at the same time.

They glared at each other.

Lucas blinked. “Cool. Love the consistency.”

Before Mike could defend himself, she spoke again, voice pointedly casual.

“Wheeler’s just mad he can’t handle losing.”

Mike stared. “Losing what?”

“Every argument.”

Lucas muttered, “Oh boy.”

“What are you talking about?” Mike demanded.

“Oh, please,” she said, stepping past him toward the doors. “You start every fight and I finish every one.”

“You don’t finish anything,” Mike shot back, following her inside. “You just walk away!”

“Because talking to you is like arguing with a brick wall!”

“At least I’m not the one who—”

She whirled around so fast he nearly collided with her.

Their faces were suddenly too close. Too familiar. Too charged.

Mike forgot his sentence.

Her voice lowered. “You think I’m scared of fighting with you? Seriously? I’ve known you since we were kids.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “That’s the problem.”

Her breath caught.

Lucas silently backed away down the hall.

She ignored him, eyes locked on Mike’s. “What does that even mean?”

“It means,” Mike said, pulse thudding in his ears, “that you can say one thing and I hear ten.”

“That’s your issue, not mine.”

He took a small step forward.

She didn’t back up.

“No,” he said, “it’s not.”

Their arms brushed. Not a dramatic touch—just a small, accidental graze. But it was warm, stupidly warm, and it shot straight through his chest.

Her voice softened. “Mike…”

There it was again—that tone that made everything feel like it could break open.

“I didn’t mean what I said outside,” he admitted quietly. “When I said it was nothing.”

She folded her arms again, defensive. “So what was it, then?”

He opened his mouth.

Nothing came out.

Because she wasn’t teasing. She wasn’t mocking him. She wasn’t being petty or sharp or annoying.

She was being real.

Mike Wheeler was notoriously bad at real.

“I don’t know,” he said, which was true and not true at the same time. “I’m still figuring it out.”

Her eyes softened—dangerously so. “Okay.”

“Okay?” he echoed, thrown off.

She nodded once. “Okay. We can… figure it out. Not today. Not all at once. Just… eventually.”

He exhaled slowly, like someone had loosened a knot inside his chest.

“Okay,” he repeated.

A beat. Two.

Then she stepped past him, brushing his arm again—not by accident this time.

“Try not to pick a fight with me before lunch,” she said, glancing over her shoulder.

Mike stared at her retreating figure, heart thudding unevenly.

“No promises,” he muttered, but he was smiling.

She didn’t see it.

But she did look back once.

Only once.

Long enough to prove he wasn’t imagining anything.

Long enough to make him hope—something he wasn’t sure he was ready to admit yet.

Something that definitely wasn’t “nothing.”

taglist: @druthesigma @serenablamelessheart @unknowinglina

[harringtonsbyers]

MIKE WHEELER X READER — byers!reader— warnings: dryhumping?

reader is the same age as mike, it’s pretty fast paced sorry; also please bear with me english isn’t my first language

“ come on let me in or i’m gonna wizz on the floor! “ the boy yelled through the door, practically breaking it down.

“ IN A MINUTE. “ i yelled as i tried to quickly wash off the soap in my hair. staying at the wheelers house wasn’t easy, there was what? about nine people living in one house? how much longer do i have to endure this.

i mean yeah it was kind of fun staying in nancy’s room and talking with her, but what wasn’t fun? getting kicked out because jonathan wanted to.. have a important talk with her. which almost always needed the door to be locked.

Mike has been nothing short of a mental breakdown ever since el and his break up. it was messy, but if you asked him about it? he’d say they were just fine and if anything they were still best friends.

I stepped out of the shower and quickly wrapped the towel around my body. i speed walked towards the bathroom door, almost slipping in the process.

My hand flew the door open, mike standing infront of me.

“ wizz away, i hope you slip. “ i retorted, my bare shoulder brushing his as i made my way towards nancy’s room. shutting the door and quickly getting dressed. something about living in a house with my brothers best friend was.. kind of thrilling?

Sure, maybe i’m messed up but i liked being near mike— as much as i make fun of him and bully him. i mean, i don’t mean it.. sometimes.

Once again, i was shunned to the basement. thanks jonathan and nancy.

I sat there, arms crossed— my head thrown back against the old couch in the basement. i heard the basement door open, footsteps coming down the stairs. my ears perked up, maybe it was just will.

I lifted my head and realized it was mike.

“ What are you doing here, “ he said to me. raising a brow, almost in disgust.

“ What? i can’t be in the basement now? “ i replied, looking at him up and down. where else was i supposed to go? hollys room? the living room with mr wheeler? absolutely not.

He sighed, shaking his head. as if he didn’t wanna argue today, weird.. it’s not like i’m saying the highlight of my day was arguing with my brothers friend, that would be weird.. right.

He took a seat next to me, throwing his head back on the couch, running a hand through his face with a sigh. i side eyed him, what am i supposed to do in this situation.

“ What’s.. up. “ i forced myself to speak. it almost felt unnatural to say something to mike that wasn’t an insult or a threat, it was so.. weird? i mean usually we’d be across the table and threatening to jump across and attack him.

He turned his head, almost in surprise that i said something that wasn’t an insult. i squinted my eyes shut for a moment, already regretting this.

“ What? “ he replied.

“ What’s up.. “ i repeated myself. “ why are you.. weird. “ i shrugged, looking at his stressed out state.

It was silent. as if he wasn’t sure if he should be honest or not, should he actually say what was bothering him or was this just a trap so she can tease him again.

I shrugged, about to get up “ i mean fine if you don’t wanna tell me- “

“ It’s el, “ he finally spoke with a sigh.

I sat back down, almost immediately. i turned my head to look at him. he adjusted his body to look at me, my heart quite literally got stuck in throat as i made eye contact with his stupid puppy eyes.

Those should be illegal actually.

“ I mean- i still think about her, not that i wanna get back together it’s just, so confusing. “ he groaned, putting his head in his hands. “ and there’s times where i think about someone else, and i just feel.. guilty. “ he continued.

I just sat there. silence, what was i supposed to say to that? genuinely. i just hate that i couldn’t focus, not one bit. he just looked.. way too good when he was stressed, as much as i hate to think that.

” I mean, you shouldn’t feel guilty for thinking about someone else.. you guys broke up like a year ago, “ i said to him, not breaking eye contact. “ it’s not you have to be hopelessly devoted to el forever, if it didn’t work out then it just.. didn’t work out. “ i added, leaning back on the couch.

Did i just give advice to mike wheeler? weird. no, very fricking weird.

Another beat of silence.

“ It’s just, “ he adjusted himself closer with a deep breath, his hand unintentionally on my thigh. “ you ever feel like something’s right there infront of you, but you can’t.. grab it? “ he finished.

I wanted to speak, i really did. but i just couldn’t ignore his hand on my thigh. none of us spoke. my eyes darted to his hand, his eyes darted to his hand.

I looked at up and him, he looked up at me.

He didn’t move his hand. i blinked at him, was it bad i didn’t want him to move his hand? i swallowed. he moved his hand back to his side.

“ Oh, yeah i get it.. “ i tried to fill up the silence. it wasn’t awkward silence.. but it was just so quiet i had to say something.. anything!

“ Like, you want something that feels.. off limits? “ as i spoke i noticed him getting closer, and slightly closer. why is he getting so close! please back away, even though i don’t want you to back away.

“ Yeah, something like that. “ he said, looking at me with those stupid eyes. my eyes were on his, then his mouth.. his stupid mouth, what’s wrong with me.

He looked down at my chest, then back up to my eyes. “ Mike. “ i said, barely above a whisper, swallowing hard.

“ Yeah? “ his voice low, his chest heavy. his hand returned to my thigh. i blinked and he leaned into me, i leaned into him.

My lips were on his. it was slow. my hand traveled up to his side of his neck, then to the nape of his neck— my fingers finding their way to his dark curls. both of his hands were on my thighs, rubbing up and down.

I didn’t wanna pull away, i didn’t want to catch my breath. this felt wrong, really wrong, but i didn’t want to do what was right.

He tapped my thigh with his hand, moving me to sit on his lap. i pulled away, catching my breath. my forehead on his, our noses touching.

“ do you wanna stop. “ he asked.

“ shut up. “ was all i said before my lips met his once again. it felt so good, too good to be true. my heart was beating so fast i was sure it was going to jump out of my chest.

I felt his tongue in my mouth, i let him explore it. what was the point of fighting it anymore? he was good, way too good.

He started kissing my jaw, moving down to my neck. my hands were on his hair as he did so. his hands traveled up and down my body, squeezing my hips as he continued his attack on my neck.

His hands went inside my shirt, grabbing my bare hips and pulling me closer to him as he started biting and sucking on my neck. my breathing started to become heavy, throwing my head back as i moaned in pleasure.

My hands moved to his face, tilting my head down to kiss him once again. i felt something poking my inner thigh, i broke away from the kiss for a moment just to look down at the tent in his pants.

“ fuck. “ he breathed, throwing his head back.

My mouth found his once again, my tongue explore his mouth now. his hands remained on my hips, i began to move against the tent in his pants.

His hips jerked up against me for a moment, my hips continued their movement. i moaned against his lips, why did this feel so good? i needed someone to pull me away.

I pulled away from the kiss, my head resting against his shoulder as i moved. mike moaning aganist my ear as i continued, his hands on my hips— helping me to move. “ yeah- keep doing that. “ he said in my ear, squinting his eyes shut. my hand tugging on his hair. his hands dropping from my hips to my backside, squeezing what he could before his hands fell from the amount of pleasure.

My hips bucked, i swallowed hard as i cursed under my breath. squinting my eyes shut, my head in his neck as i moved.

My movements began to get more needy as i desperately tried to reach my peak. my chest heavy, my breath heavy as i was on the brink of falling.

I felt him, just as desperate for release as i was. i mumbled against his shoulder, spewing absolute nonsense from my mouth.

Until, i felt it.

I sighed, whispering curses as my hips began to slow down. my breath still heavy, my head in his neck. not fully stopping, until i rode out my release.

“ shit. “ was all i said.

What the hell did i just get myself into? why couldn’t i just pull away? but.. i didn’t regret it. not at all, it’s just.. shit. i was still ontop of him, i could practically hear how fast his heart was beating.

I didn’t know what else to say.. i mean, what do you say after making out with your brothers best friend in his basement?

I got off his lap with one final kiss. i sat there, in thought. it was quiet, should it be quiet? should i say something? “ hey- “ mike began but got immediately cut off by holly screaming from upstairs.

“ DINNERRRRR!!!! “

sorry this was short, i haven’t written in a while, hope you enjoyed it you have any requests lmk

[luveline]

𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

Steve hates that you don’t like him, and you love how much he hates you. fem, 2k

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

“You cannot keep bringing your nerds with you to movie night, Dustin.”

You don’t bother acting offended, though Eddie and his entourage of idiots all glare and hiss accordingly. “You said we were invited, Henderson!” Eddie says, slapping Dustin’s arm. 

Dustin throws up his hands. “I didn’t know how long he’d have the tape, and he won’t let me borrow it because you lost The Thing! You want to watch the movie, don’t you?” 

You’d been lured here under the impression that Steve was hosting a watch party. This does not seem to be true. Steve huffs this bitchy little sigh and rolls his eyes as he steps back, opening the door to allow you all inside. Eddie kisses Steve’s cheek as he passes and Steve says, “Gross,” with enough venom to make you laugh. 

He glares at you next. 

“I brought jiffy pop,” you say. Two packages of the stuff, actually. “And Reese’s.”

“Good for you.” 

“Can I make it?”

“And ruin the stovetop? No. I’ll do it.”

You shut the door behind you and allow yourself to marvel at the caves and caverns that make up the Harrington house. Daniel Harrington is a rich bastard, and while Steve might not get the sort of allowance you’d imagined, he still gets to stay here. You let out a low whistle. 

“I like what you’ve done to the place,” you tease lightly. 

Steve doesn’t answer. You wave at Robin and the others as you pass the living room, glad when Robin waves back enthusiastically. 

Steve huffs. “Come on,” he says.

You’d already been going, but you hurry to match his pace into the audacious kitchen. Steve’s stovetop could cook for ten, and the main counter is already laid out with snacks, sodas, and red cups. You lean on your elbows between chocolate covered pretzels and a bowl of fruit, wondering if tonight’s the night Steve might blow his lid. The wager is a generous sixteen dollars accrued between losers. Eddie thinks Steve’s gonna crack tonight. Jeff and Gareth both agree that the end is near but not nigh; a week or two and he’ll throw you out on the street. Cindy and Mindy have better faith in your ability to charm him, both girls betting on months further ahead. 

From the way he’s looking at you, you aren’t sure you’ll make it to the end of Hellraiser.

It might have something to do with your chewing. “Uh, sorry,” you say, pushing the bowl of pretzels away from you. 

He shrugs. “It’s fine. Who cares, right? What’s mine is yours.”

His sarcasm is acidic. 

“Aw, thank you, Stevie. I didn’t know you felt that way.”

Steve snorts. It’s not a nice laugh, but something in your chest pulls hot and rough at the sound. He practically throws your popcorn onto the stovetop and lights the burner, his shoulders tensed under a warm brown polo, steam curling out of his ears with every second you stand there behind him. The metal of the container starts to creak in the heat, but you wait for the first pop of popcorn inside before you slip around the counter to stand beside him. 

“Where’d you get the movie?” you ask. 

Steve doesn’t answer. So annoyingly immature. You love the stupid haughtiness lining his eyes and the set of his mouth as he ignores you. It’s a tad smug, poorly concealed. 

“I didn’t know you liked horror.”

“How could I? Do jocks even watch movies?” he asks. 

Your eyebrows raise of their own accord. “Do they?” you ask. 

“I worked at a movie rental.” 

“Well, one doesn’t like to assume.”

Steve scoffs, as if to say, that’s rich. It confuses you enough to have you fall silent, turned completely to Steve as he shakes the jiffy pop over the heat. He looks less angry and more sad for a moment, his almond eyes in a sorry downturn you’d happily kiss back upwards again, until he feels you looking and snaps his gaze to yours. His glare comes alive. “What?” he bites. 

“I didn’t say anything?”

“Why are you looking at me?”

You widen your eyes, a little showfully. “Am I not allowed?”

“Why would you want to?”

“Is that a trick question?” The popcorn pop-pop-pops, quicker now, a steady rhythm. “Why do people usually look at you, Steven?”

“Are you guys coming?” Robin calls. 

“In a minute!” Steve sounds as annoyed as he looks.

“I’m just asking!”

He swings open a cabinet door and slams a bowl onto the kitchen counter. Risqué, he tears open the jiffy pop like it isn’t scaldingly hot and upends your popcorn into the bowl. 

You like seeing his twitchy brow, the way he clenches his fist when you take a step forward, but you’re not as eager for a beating as you might pretend. “I can go home, if you really don’t want me here. I wasn’t trying to abuse your hospitality, or anything.”

Your careful monotone attracts his incredulity. “Why’d you even wanna come, anyways? You knew I’d be here, didn’t you? It’s my house.” 

“That’s exactly why I came.”

“To fuck with me.”

“‘Cos I like you, Steve.” You take pleasure in his lack of response, reaching over his arm to turn off the heat on the burner, the weight of his eyes like a burn on the side of your face. “Despite what you might think.”

“Since when?”

“Since forever?”

“You called me a neanderthal.”

“You were being rude.”

“You told Dustin you’d rather be caught dead than date me?”

“Is that what I said?” You meet him head on, staring right into his eyes with that flirty flare of your lashes and a gentle smile, something to mess with his head, even as you tell him the truth. Is there anything so fun as making Steve’s heart pound? His lips part in surprise. “I don’t think that’s what I said. What did Henderson tell you, word for word?”

“He said you’d rather die than go on a date with me.”

“Well, I told Dustin I’d rather die than go to see Wham! with you when he implied you had a spare ticket.” You tilt your head gently to one side. “But that was hyperbole. I could’ve toughed it out… given a good enough reason. I told him I’m persuadable.” 

“That little shit didn’t tell me that.” 

“No, he’s fine. You were so sweet to me before, but I like this version of you.” You follow the line of his neck to his Adam’s apple. It bobs as he swallows nothing at all. “Bitter suits you, H.”

“I think you’re fucking with me.”

“Do you want it in writing?” 

You drag the bowl toward you and shovel a few pieces of popcorn into your mouth. It’s fresh and crunchy, still hot in their centres. You’re tempted to smile at Steve with kernels in your teeth, but you pout a little for a kiss instead and watch his jaw go slack. 

“No?” you murmur when he doesn’t move, licking your teeth clean. 

“You’re evil,” he says, reaching for your side, his hand behind your back and pressing you closer as his brain works overtime, “you knew he lied to me?”

“He didn’t lie, Steve, he just told you what he thought I meant. I lied, a little. Just to see what you’d do.”

You should’ve expected the kiss. His hands are on your body and you’d goaded him, invited him, but the press of his lips to yours isn’t half as spiteful as you’d pictured. There’s no clack of teeth or sudden gasp as he yanks you into his chest, just heat as he closes the distance between you and folds you into a half-embrace, his free hand covering your collarbone as he gives a firm, testing kiss. Quick as anything, he pulls away, eyes flashing open again to yours that hadn’t managed to shut. 

“Fine?” he asks. 

You offer him a real smile. 

The second kiss is more like what you’d imagined. It’s not better, but harder, and greedier, the hot seam of his mouth meeting yours as the bridge of his nose nudges your own, too close, too quick, too needy. You sew your hand into his hair, tugging him back when you need to breathe. He presses a needy kiss into the line of your jaw rather than part from you, and you start to wonder if you should’ve been more flexible about the Wham! concert.

“You still like me, then,” you say happily. 

“Yeah. Apparently,” he mutters, red blush spread over his nose and the tops of his cheeks. He looks like he could sit you down and bite you hard if you let him. 

“Let’s sit together,” you say, hip checking him as you turn to leave. 

He grabs you by the top of the head and gives you a back-and-forth shake, though whether it’s affection or a warning is up for debate. It’s not cruel in any capacity, at least. 

[inknopewetrust]

𝔉𝔬𝔬𝔱𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔭𝔰 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔖𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔰

summary: in the blistering summer evening heat, you and felix play a little game. [felix x fem reader. WC: 2.6k]

warnings: smut. minors dni (18+ only). p in v, fingering (fem receiving), saltburn bathtub, slight voyeurism, dirty, dirty talk, some degrading language, not the dirtiest thing but still like… kinda hot?

Though the sun had set long before, the lingering scorch of the sun sat like a film on your skin. Its thin veil dry and aching to shrivel against the boiling water of the tub. You felt the sticky nature disappear under the trails of steam that painted the surface of the water.

A bead of sweat pebbled from your temple to cheek to chin to neck.

But you lit a cigarette anyway. And if you listened close enough, you could hear the crackle.

A blistering bud sizzles; the porcelain was drawing cool waves against the skin of your arms and for once, in the vast nothingness of the bathroom, the heat that rose from its surface made the ghosts vanish.

It made them disappear in house once home to Kings.

Now, as it boiled under the night sky, it was home to something other. It had bled itself into the walls and the ghosts wished to witness not the haggard scrounging of wealth that festered within.

But you imagined Henry the Eighth liked to stare as you bathed. They all did. Felix had told you that once a few summers ago.

How they all wanted to touch you in the ways that he did. How they wanted to whisper in your ear that they were better than him. No one truly was and it kept you crawling back with the poor souls who got sucked into a heated whirlpool of pity each and every summer.

Nevertheless, you envisioned Henry in the corner itching to touch.

They all trembled to flutter their hands onto your skin, onto your breasts, squeezing pieces of you dipped below the waterline.

If his ghost could smile, Henry’s ghastly teeth gleamed.

‘Fuck off, Henry,’ you saw the paunchy apparition lounging in the chair in the corner with a bead of sweat dribbling from his own temple.

Oh, envy, King Henry.

A bit of ash fell onto the tiles below.

“You’re making a mess of it.”

You tapped the cig on the side of the tub as another bit of ash wilted to the cold floor.

Felix hummed.

Stocky Henry vanished. If you gazed toward him, Felix’s eyes bore deep. Heavy and brooding, downcast at a peak of what existed beyond the bubbled suds.

Dinner had long passed. Everyone was supposed to be in bed.

He could feel you in inches. The soft skin of your back, the plush thighs that laid between his own. A hand of his traced over the skin of your collarbone gently as the ash continued to drift.

You were nearly on fire. In the swelter of the stone walls and the patterns of the paper before him, you glowed in a red sweat.

“You’re letting it die.”

“I was thinking,” you murmured.

“About what?”

“King Henry.”

“King Henry?” Felix’s voice peaked. His head leaned to rest on your shoulder, his smile leaving a trail as it grew. His nose drew a delicate line on your dampened skin.

You liked Felix in this way. So quiet and removed. But Saltburn always kept pace in the background.

“Yes, King Henry,” his hand glided along your own, gently taking hold of the cigarette and placing it between his lips.

The smoke of the puff rose high into the air beside you. It’s curls twisted like your insides aching for a touch too far but never too close.

“I like to imagine them sitting… staring at us now.”

“Now?” Felix questioned. “So erotic in an ugly tub. I can see him now,” he pointed to the corner of the room, “he just popped one. Can’t you see it? In his trousers there.”

You grinned. Your laugh filled his chest with a shuddering life. So fulfilled and free yet trapped in this same world as he.

And he was never far away. Here, in Saltburn, always waiting in the same shadows for the opportunity to strike while the others weren’t around. No sister or friends or parents or mewling poor fighting for his attention. They were retired for the evening; all snuggled in beds with curtains drawn and fantasy dancing in their heads.

“He isn’t the only one.”

You tipped your head to the side. The profile of your face meeting his forehead as he dipped his own downwards. The cigarette still burning from his fingertips. It was a mere bud now.

You could feel what waited for you on your lower back.

“I can feel that, you know?” You feigned an innocence he liked. Keen and blatant, but cunning with sin.

“Is it Henry that makes you feel that why?” You whispered, lips ghosting his chin.

Felix breathed in deeply. The same chest that shuddered with joy in anticipation.

Every summer.

The excitement would stir within his bones as the gates would open wide and beside his family would be the one steady thing he had everything to give.

“I hope,” Felix hushed, “for your own sake that’s not the fucking case.”

“So it’s me?”

Felix groaned as you pushed against him. The gentle pressure of your body arching into him without a touch, he begged to put his hands on you.

The cigarette fell to the floor in its end.

Felix took his hand and turned your head back to face him with a firm grip on your jaw. The water around you sloshed. It cleared the bubbles from your chest.

“I want to play a game,” he suggested in a dusty, breathless tone. “Want to play, darling?”

“Can I win?” You suggested. His hand loosened, letting the fingers dance along the column of your neck before beckoning up toward your mouth once more.

His index finger traced the outline of your lips. In a slow glide, Felix pulled your lower lip out slightly, gathering the wetness with his finger before inching it back to the space where your lips had parted.

You kissed his finger with your tongue as it found purchase in the suction of your mouth. The plushness of your tongue, the slight drag of your teeth as it emerged from between your lips.

“I don’t want to play if I can’t win, Felix,” you whispered.

His eyes now hooded with a thick want. He watched his finger redraw the lines of your lips again as you begged with doe eyes to win. A near child’s play of a woman’s ability to seduce.

“You can win,” Felix huffed as his other hand snaked itself from the edge of the tub to your torso under the water. “But I’ll need you to be quiet. We have guests and as much as I do love our dear, sweat guests, I can’t have them imagining the way I fuck you, can I?”

“No,” you relished in the way his hand returned to the base of your throat and squeezed with the slightest amusement. “I’ll be quiet.”

“Good,” Felix smiled at you. Your heart squeezed in the same way your cunt ached for his fingers to gather the strength to follow through.

“What do I win?”

“Whatever the fuck you want. You just have to be quiet.”

You smiled deviously that the thought.

“I can’t see how we’d be able to look a boy like Ollie in the eyes if he heard the sounds that come out of your mouth.”

His hand swooped past your center and to your leg, drawing one over his own which sat you straighter in his hold. You felt his cock jump at the pressure of you pushing on him. Felix flitted his finger tips from your knee to waist, switching hands to bring his wet palm to your breast while the other perched your opposite leg over his other.

The pebbled nipple was taut as he kneaded the skin in circles. He pressed down hard, pulling up on your nipple to elicit the sounds he wanted so badly to hear but knew you’d repress.

You were like him in many ways. He too wanted to win a game of control.

With you in his hands like a play of putty, he felt in control but with one hand on the wheel.

As he palmed your breast, his hand gripped your thigh. His mouth traced a pattern of hot breath along your neck as his tongue relished the salty sweat that had gathered at its leisure. The goosebumps that rose from your skin welcomed his breath kindly.

“I want this house to ourselves,” Felix moaned. “So we don’t have to be quiet.”

“Tell me what you’d do,” you asked him, placing your hand over his own and bringing his fingers to you. He cupped your heat as you groaned, guiding him back and forth to gather the wetness he could feel different from the water of the tub.

“Tell me what you’d do to me.” You spoke faintly. “Tell me and I’ll be quiet.”

You guided one of Felix’s fingers in you as he shushed the sounds that threatened to speak themselves into existence.

He put his lips on your ear as he began to pump his fingers in and out of you with a slow glide. So plush and tight, he thought to himself. It sucked him in and dared not to spit him out.

“I would fuck you on the floor,” he breathed out against your cheek. “I’d spread you wide and taste your sweet pussy as the sun bathes the floor. And when I’m done, we go to the pool-“

Felix pulled out his finger, tracking it along your folds before going in with two. You arched against his back, drawing up as he pulled you back down and rested his hand on your waist.

You curled the toes of your right foot down the edge of the tub.

“-we’d go to the pool and sit out in the sun. You’d give me head in one of the chairs and I’d paint your fucking face with my cum.”

You clenched around his fingers. His thumb pressed into your clit, another jolt aching to send you squirming but he held you down as he patterned circles on the gentle flesh.

“You like that, don’t you?” He breathed in the smell of you. “And maybe we’d go for a walk through the maze after dinner. I’d fuck you in the center and you could scream as loud as you fucking want. No one could get to us. No one would hear us.”

“F-F-“

“No, no, no, shh,” Felix shushed. “Good girls only win by being quiet, yeah?”

You nodded, clenching onto his fingers again as a strangled ‘fuck’ tumbled out of his lips. He could imagine the coil building. Felix wasn’t going to let you finish alone.

Felix pulled his fingers from you and felt the disappointment in the wither of your body.

“But I don’t want to imagine what’d I’d do if we were alone,” Felix blanked. “Turn around.”

As the water sloshed around you, you turned to wrap your arms around his neck. Like you, Felix had sweat beading from his jaw that glimmered in the red light of the bathroom. He looked intoxicated, entranced but in control of what he could.

“I want to see you ride me like the fucking whore you are.”

You weren’t a whore. But for Felix, you could be anything.

At the nape of his neck, you gripped the back of his hair and drew his head back as your other hand gripped him under the water.

Hard and lengthy, his cock was a welcome intrusion every time. You pumped him in your hand slowly. The sounds of water creating currents was soothing against the sounds of your battered breaths kissing his own. You lifted yourself on your knees, leaning against Felix as he squeezed your ass tightly, watching as you lowered yourself onto him under the water. Slender and veined, your cunt molded to him like art. You both would never tire of the feeling so profound.

It would never be like this with anyone else.

Loose pants left his lips as you sat completely full of him. A fit for a King in his own home, he supposed. Once you had settled with him inside, you moved above him.

The water moved languidly too. Meeting the fiery skin of two intoxicated minds too oblivious to see the peering eyes between the crack of a door.

“Right there, baby, right there,” Felix mumbled as you rose again and again, drawing him in and out as he stretched you with every swell and spur he could muster on his own.

“You’re such a good girl, darling. So good for me.”

You could peer down at him from above. Your breath fanning his face and lips but never seeking to truly kiss him as your hand tangled in his hair.

Bits of water spilled over the tub and splashed onto the floor. It soaked the ash tray and the speckles of ash and bud that littered the floor.

“Don’t stop baby. Don’t fucking stop,” Felix crooned in the room’s empty sounds. Only the pleasured sighs and gasping breaths filled the air.

You bounced on his cock with a measured pace. Each stroke of his manhood against your velvet walls lured him deeper into you, entangled with the missing links of a year gone by.

“Felix,” you broke the rules to whisper in his ear. He was taken away by the insatiable need of his rapture. He listened. He beckoned to your call.

“Tell me that you love me.”

From the shadows, Oliver Quick felt his blood run as hot as the sun. He loved Felix.

“I love you.”

Whom did not love him back.

“Tell me you need me.”

He was enamored by the idea of Felix.

“I need you.”

Who was enamored with the idea of Oliver.

“And what do you want from me?”

He was taken by the sight before him.

“I need you to cum, baby. I need you to fucking cum for me.”

Oliver was taken by the gleam of your skin. The way Felix’s throat bobbed as a strangled groan escaped his lips and the way your own melted onto his forehead in a silent struggle to come down from a high.

You placed both hands on his slender chest, careening like winged victory in a heated satisfaction.

Your fingers shook.

He had never seen a woman shake so elegantly before. The tremble of your lips as you breathed in shaking respite, the jolt of your shoulder blade as Felix ran a hand up your back.

Oliver licked his lips at the sight.

Felix lifted his head from its position against the tub. His eyes fluttered open as you pulled away in the slightest.

And Felix smiled.

You returned the grin with one of your own as his still sat erect inside of you. The bubbles of the tub had long ceased to exist and the water that was left was filled with the combined spent of you both.

“I don’t think I won that one,” you chuckled quietly, pushing hair out of Felix’s face before cupping his cheek in your hand.

“I’ll take pity on you, I guess.”

“The water’s gone cold.”

Felix kissed the inside of the palm of your hand. He cherished the high that lingered.

“The water’s gone cold,” he repeated. “But we could stay here forever.”

“Pruned and sweaty? Not a chance in fucking hell, Felix.” You laughed a bit too loudly. Oliver disappeared at the groan Felix let out as you pulled off of him.

You stood before him as the water dripped from every piece of you. Marbled and finite of the most precious carvings he only wished to hold forever.

As you exited the tub and the throb of him began to settle, you grabbed his linen shirt from the floor, draping it over you as it stuck to the wetness of your skin.

“The bed is just the slightest bit more comfortable.”

And you disappeared behind his doorway with call for more as the walls of Saltburn added another sordid story to add to it woven trims.

But it was never just the walls of Saltburn watching.

A/N: as always, the best gift of reading is likes AND reblogs and why not, we love comments too. Thank you for reading and feel free to check out my other works on my masterlist here. xo

[stvolanis]

Farleigh with an innocence kink for Felix’s friend that he brings home for the summer?

love this sm. I made Farleigh kinda a perv sorry😭 (not sorry) reader is naive and too innocent‼️

Farleigh Start! Who didn’t think much of it when Felix mentioned bringing someone home with them for the summer, and quite honestly didn’t care. till he seen you.

Farleigh Start! Who’s thoughts were only filled of doing vile things to you as he shook your hand, Felix introducing the two of you. The skirt you wore when you first met while forever be engraved into his dirty mind; a lace baby pink with small flower designs on the frill, but what he remembers the most, was the way it barely covered your ass.

Farleigh Start! Who thought you knew what you were doing when you’d suck on your little cherry lollipops everyday, or when you’d lick your popsicles from the base to the tip to prevent the juices running down. Hell, he almost confronted you when you bent over in front of him while wearing your thin bikini that left little to the imagination; but you were truly oblivious.

Farleigh Start! Whos dick hardened at the way you blushed profusely, trying to avoid eye contact the day in the meadow when they were all naked. His eyes had zoned in on how you squeezed your thighs together when you glanced at his body. Of course, you were the only fully clothed one there. Farleigh made sure of that. No one was ever going to get to see you naked but him.

Farleigh Start! Who shares a bathroom with you; the both of your rooms connected. He’ll quietly crack the door open, just enough to see you undress and take your place in your rose petal filled bath. God, it smelled heavenly to him.

Farleigh Start! Who makes dirty jokes around you, only to grip his cock through his pants discreetly when you either give him a look of confusion, or embarrassment. Or, when you sit next to dinner he’ll rest his hand on the plush of your thigh, telling you it was just a “friendly gesture” as he squeezed. And of course, you’d believe him, why wouldn’t you? Farleighs an amazing friend!

Farleigh Start! Who keeps you close to him and scares off drunken men, and even a few women, who tried to hit on you at one of the many parties they hosted throughout the summer. Acting as your own body guard, even going as far as beating one man to a pulp for grazing his hand over your ass.

Farleigh Start! Who you beg to tell you about sex one day, seeing as you were the closest to him, and he sees this as his opportunity to finally taint the dainty aura of innocence you head floating around your pretty little mind.

Farleigh Start! Who reluctantly sits you down on your bed, watching as you clutched your stuffed bunny to your chest; peering up at him through lashes as the filthiest words slipped past your strawberry lips. “What’s masturbate?” You asked with a tilt of you head. He inhaled deeply. “Masturbation.” He corrected you.

Farleigh Start! Who merely said, “let me show you.” As he, right then and there, whipped out his throbbing member, standing tall against his lean stomach. He watched as you dropped to your knees unknowingly in front of him with awestruck eyes. “What’s this?” You asked. “S’my cock. It likes you.” He chuckled out as he watched your brows furrow when it twitched.

Farleigh Start! Who gave you the okay to touch his cock, letting you play around with it for a little bit. He hissed when your finger skimmed over his weeping tip. “I’m sorry.” You rushed out. He groaned. “That’s alright, didn’t hurt me. Felt real good, baby.” He reassured with a smile.

Farleigh Start! Who instructed you how to give your first hand job. “Tighten your fist, sweetheart. Juuusstt like thattt..” he bit out as you stroked up and down his shaft with a tightened fist. He gripped the pink sheets beneath him, trying to restrain himself from forcing his cock into your mouth and down your throat.

Farleigh Start! Who was losing his self control as you’d look up at him with blown-out, lust filled eyes. The fact that you had no idea just how amazing you were making him feel had him close to the edge. His groans getting more louder as he grew breathless.

Farleigh Start! Who painted your face white when you batted your lashes up at him with the hesitant question of, “Am I doing a good job, Farleigh?” Your lost little puppy dog eyes had him folding. You flinched in surprise as what you learned was his cum, landed on your cheeks, nose, and mouth.

Farleigh Start! Who instructed you to open your mouth, scooping up the cum on your face before shoving it into your mouth. Your oral fixation kicked in as you sucked around his thumb. “Good girl, baby. Made me feel so fuckin’ good. My best girl.” He said as he kissed your head.

“Now, let’s take care of that little ache you have down there, hm, Princess?”

don’t be shy, ask to be a part of the tag list and request things!!

TAG LIST: @elvisalltheway101 @epthedream69 @claire-elvisgirl @elvisrealgf @littlehoneyposts @ireallydontcareanymorebrooo @luxuriouslokistan-3 @foxevxid @parkbabyj

[kamitv]

▷ STALKED

Synopsis . In which Geto and Gojo chose the wrong right person to stalk. (loosely inspired by the show "you" on netflix) Pairings . stalker!suguru & stalker!satoru x fem!reader / Content . afab!reader, stalking, obsession, alcohol, college girl activities, porn with a tinge of plot, lots of song references, breaking and entering, Gojo & Geto are both filthy perverts, threesome, bickering, oral sex (m!receiving), slight cum play, a hint of satosugu, filth, spitting, praise, premature ejec, bondage, dirty talk—they're both really mean, degrading, pet names, etc. / wc . 10.6k

A/N: Y'all see tht word count? We startin this month off STRONG... Hope you guys enjoy!! Banner from: "Infiltration! Agent on Edge." (Kinktober Masterlist.) [MDNI]

Not to quote Rockwell but, you really were starting to feel like somebody was watching you.

Dancing drunk with your friend while surrounded by people in all sorts of costumes and getups could have been part of the reason why but, the point remains still.

Your body was thrumming with that drunken bliss, limbs moving fluidly to the music bumping all throughout the house you stood in currently. And yet, every breath you took, every move you made, and every step you took—it felt like someone was watching you. No shade to The Police, of course.

Yes, your chosen costume was far shorter than anything you wore normally and you were easily grabbing the eyes of many around you but, there was something distant that didn’t quite feel like the usual attention you receive.

In the midst of your dancing and giggling alongside Utahime, you noticed two things. Or, to be more specific, two sets of eyes on you. 

Off in some corner of the room there were these deep invoking violet eyes that bored into your frame, the mysterious haze in them standing out amongst the crowd of dancing people that surrounded you. 

Then, on the opposite side of said room, there were eyes of pure azure blue that felt as though they were piercing into every inch of you—especially as you make brief eye contact with them, feeling a shiver of cold chills slipping down your spine.

Every sway of your body was being watched and studied like a hawk in a way that differed from how everyone else let their eyes occasionally stark down your figure. Something about these two gazes felt unmoving, like no matter which way you faced to dance, one of those sets were noticeable off in the distance.

And even when they weren’t noticeable, you could feel them nonetheless.

Luckily for you, your drunken mind simply blames the alcohol you’d drank as to why two random guys looking at you from across the room seemed to stand out a bit more than anyone else’s. Especially when you take into consideration both men had looks that just naturally stood out from everyone else! It was absolutely nothing to worry about—

“Hey, are you alright?” Grabs your attention as you whirl your head around to meet the eyes of Utahime, her cheeks flushed from drinking just as heavily as you’d been if not more.

You nod, not fully processing her words yet as your lashes flutter and then the words leave you. “Yeah, m’fine, why?” You manage out, though you’re sure your words come out a lot more slurred together than intended.

Utahime giggles before placing a hand on your arm, caressing the skin there just barely as a sweet smile spreads across her rosy-glossed lips. “I’m gonna go talk to Shoko for a sec’,” She informs you, “Didn’t wanna leave you without sayin’ anything so-,” She lets out a little hiccup, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Her hand slips downwards along your arm as she watches your expression, smiling at the way she can see you visibly processing her words again. Utahime’s hand soon meets yours and she gives it a soft squeeze.

That seems to lull you into vocalizing a reply instead of just staring at her. Shaking your head a bit—as if that would help to clear the weight of alcohol running through you right now, “Uhuh, I told you m’fineee. Tell Shoko I say hii,” You tell her, flashing a reassuring smile afterwards.

You feel the pad of her thumb slide against your wrist in small mindless little circles before she hums, giving you nothing more than a nod in response before leaving your side.

Left on the dance floor, you’re quick to end up dancing against stranger after stranger. You got a name or two here and there, along with some touches against your waist and even your hips but you really can’t remember from who or even why you allowed it all. 

At some point, you end up dancing in between two guys. Between them, you remember feeling overwhelmingly hot all over. The man in front of you had familiar blue eyes that made your heart skip a beat every time your own crossed over them. And the male behind you was nearly fighting for your attention back on him.

You remember angling your head back and being met with the most devastatingly hungry set of purple irises ever—also equally as familiar as the first guy.

In the back of your mind, you felt like you knew these two men but in the moment you couldn’t think straight at all.

All you knew was that Mr. Purple Eyes was really good with his hands, running them all up and down your hips and tugging your ass back against his crotch.

Whereas alternatively, there was Mr. Blue Eyes who’d wrap his arm around your waist and press himself closer just to keep you sandwiched between the two of them. Now, this part you actually think your brain made up but, there was something very hard poking at both your ass and your front.

Maybe you were delusional but you swore there were two cocks rubbing against y—

The sound of your name being called is what snaps you out of your trance and your eyes lazily land over on the, seemingly fuming, Utahime. 

The white-haired man is the first one to get shoved off of you and you stumble to the side at the impact of it all.

“Keep your grimy paws off of her, Satoru.” She breathes out before quickly turning to you and practically snatching you away from the raven behind you. Sending him a glare, “Same to you, Suguru. Ugh.”

It suddenly clicks for you. That’s why they looked familiar, because you knew them! Duh. They were both Shoko’s friends!!

Drunkenly, your hands end up meeting Utahime’s face and you squeeze her cheeks in your palms as if to rid the disgust and annoyance written all over her features. “‘Himee, s’okay, we were just dancin’,” You giggle with the most innocent expression.

Her annoyance melts away at the sound of your voice and she moves her hands to your wrists, carefully prying your hands away from her face. “I know, I know,” She says all softly before sending Gojo another glare. “I just don’t think certain people deserve your attention like that—especially not him.” She spits out.

Gojo lets out an amused huff before throwing his hands up in defeat, “Relaaax, Utahime. You’re acting like friends can’t dance together now.”

Her glare grows impossibly colder with the man, “The two of you are not friends.”

“Oh yeah?” Geto suddenly purrs, earning your best friend’s attention and making her eyes go wide as she watches him snake his arms around you to pull you back into a hug. “Then what do you call us, hm?”

“Manipulative whores who’re trying to take advantage of my friend,” She grumps, reaching forward and tugging you right out of that hug. To which you allow yourself to fall right into her arms.

Geto scoffs, brows meeting center now as a vein peeks out against his jawline, “Take advantage? She’s a grown woman, she can handle herself just fine. Plus, we were just dancing.”

Utahime scoffs, “Liar—“

“He’s right ‘n you know it,” Gojo chimes in, “I watched-, er, happened to see her ward off multiple creeps within the past few minutes. If she didn’t want us to dance with her, she would’ve sent us off as well.” He points out. 

Which was true, you’d cycled through plenty of people who tried dancing with you within the time Utahime had left your side. Pushing off the too touchy, shaking your head at the too eager to get you to go upstairs with them, and eventually ending up with Gojo and Geto who you just felt comfortable against.

Your best friend, still annoyed, finds herself at a slight loss of words. She’s always hated Gojo and seeing him anywhere near you made her unexplainably frustrated. Then there was Geto who was trouble in human form, breaking girl’s hearts left and right for all she knew based on the things Shoko had told her. 

Frowning, “That’s not—“

“‘Himeee,” You’re finally budding in again, slumping your forehead onto her shoulder, “My head’s startin’ to hurt, I think m’gonna head back home now…”

“Ah, o-okay,” She stammers quickly, her entire demeanor changing in an instant as she redirects all her attention onto you, “Do you want me to-“

You’re shaking your head already before pulling away from her, “Nope, I can-, mh, I can get there jus’ fine on my own.”

Now, normally Utahime would be the one to escort you home safely—she refused to ever get you an Uber or even a taxi home because she didn’t trust any of them with an overly drunk you. But, she was too drunk to drive tonight or even think completely straight so..

Utahime nods, “Alright but, text me as soon as you get home, okay?”

You give her a thumbs-up and she smiles at you.

Luckily, you lived just down the street from the party you guys were attending so she really had nothing to worry about. Or so she told her intoxicated self, anyway.

As you begin wobbling away from her, bumping into a few people while you make your way towards what you fuzzily remember to be the exit, Utahime’s got her eyes on you the entire time—at least making sure you manage out the front door. Once you do, she turns to give Gojo and Geto another scolding only to find that they’ve both vanished.

She blinks a few times as she glances around, realizing that they’ve almost quite literally disappeared into thin air. Perhaps her mild curses from before managed to scare them away for the night. Good riddance.

Now, after this party everything around you starts to get… strange.

——

You live alone, courtesy to your parents who left the house to you almost as soon as you turned eighteen and then moved out of town completely. That was years ago but, because of that there are certain things in your home that just never change.

You have your own routines and small things you do and yet, after only a few weeks, you begin to notice odd things.

For example, your hygiene products like your body wash and shampoo. You’ve always left them in a specific corner of your tub for as long as you remember but there was one day when you went to shower that you noticed some of the items there had been left on the opposite side.

Obviously this isn’t a world-shattering difference but, it was something that left you humming in thought. Perhaps you were in a rush during your last shower and moved it? Even though you’ve never done that before and happened to be quite particular about your things…

Weird.

The next thing you picked up on were weird strands of hair in certain places like your bedroom and your living room. On your couch you once find this long strand of silky black hair that doesn’t exactly match yours. 

At first you thought that maybe it could’ve been Utahime’s because she’s the only person with dark colored hair that frequents your house nowadays but, you weren’t sure.

And in your bedroom, you found a shorter strand of white hair on your pillow one time and then another strand of the same color in your closet. Maybe Utahime had been hanging around Shoko and your friends and things transferred over…? You did have Shoko herself over at one point but, you weren’t sure if that was it.

Weird.

The thing that stood out to you the most though? Your favorite pairs of panties started to go missing one by one along with your underwear drawer being left slightly ajar some days.

Now, there were lots of times you left your house in a hurry to make it to class on time but that was one thing you really don’t feel like you were responsible for. You tried to also consider the fact that your washer and dryer has a tendency to eat up your socks and occasionally small clothing items but, still.

The panties you usually wore most often and definitely felt most confident and comfortable in just.. disappeared one day. And not just one but two of them at that.

You searched your house high and low but you really could never find them.

Weird.

There were also some other things like you finding your laptop in a different room than you remember leaving it or your shorts popping up in the crack of your living room couch instead of your bedroom but, those were things you shrugged off and assumed you were just getting more careless as the days went on.

After all, classes were getting increasingly difficult and you were stressed between that and work, so maybe all of those little homely mishaps were because of your busying life.

Little did you know…

——

It was on days like today where you would leave your house late-afternoon to head over to Utahime’s and spend more of your evening with her that one of the two people responsible for all those mysteries would act.

See, the funny thing about having two of the most obsessive people in town stalking you is that each of them are so entrapped in you that they don’t even acknowledge or notice the other.

Until today that is.

Geto watches your car drive off before he makes his way into your house via a spare copy of your key he’d oh-so-politely made for himself. Walking around your place as if it were his second home and wondering what it is he should do today while you’re out.

Some days he chooses to follow you around town and watch how you spend your time but after a few weeks of meticulously learning your routine, he hadn’t felt the need to do that anymore. Especially since he already knew where you were going.

He and Utahime didn’t talk much but he definitely started to care less for her as time went on. She took up most of your days and it was hard to ever catch you alone—not to do anything, of course, but just to watch you from afar. Yet, you were always with her and it was annoying as fuck.

How is he supposed to know what you do in your free time if you never have any??

Rolling his eyes at the thought, Geto makes his way upstairs in search of your bedroom. He knows the way by now but he’s stopping by your bathroom quickly just to go and smell one of your perfumes—eyes fluttering to the back of his skull at the scent.

Everything about you really was perfect. So perfect that Geto swore he planned to stop this whole stalker thing someday and properly ask you out. Y’know, after learning everything there is to know about you and making himself into the perfect embodiment of the kind of man you hope for.

Today, he was here to return a pair of your panties he’d stolen, jerked off with more times than he can count, and washed thoroughly after the fact. One of his hands remained taut in his pockets as he rubbed his thick thumb over the black fabric and tried not to get worked up all over again.

He knew these were your favorite since he’d literally counted the number of times you’d washed and worn this pair instead of any others. Smiling to himself as he thinks about it, Geto pushes open your bedroom door and then the sight he’s met with leaves him frozen.

Gojo’s nose-deep in one of your pillows right now, soaking in every bit of your smell that he can before he realizes his best friend just walked in. Fumbling to drop the item in his hands and acting as though he wasn’t doing anything, Gojo then clears his throat obnoxiously loud and moves to scratch the back of his neck.

“What uh, what’re you doing here?” He asks all confusedly, as if the same question doesn’t apply to him as well.

Geto cocks a brow and he’s surprisingly casual about this, taking a step into your bedroom and softly pushing the door shut with his foot before turning toward your drawers, “I came to return something. What are you doing here, aside from sniffing pillows and dryhumping a clueless woman’s bedsheets, that is.”

Gojo watches his friend stroll over to your drawer and open in, taking a small black fabric he’d recognize anywhere out of his pocket before ‘discreetly’ returning them back to their rightful place. “Huh.” Gojo tuts, “What were you doing with those panties, Suguru? A-And I wasn’t dryhumping her sheets!” He stammers out afterwards.

Rummaging through the other fabrics in your drawer as if it were second nature, Geto finds himself cracking a little smirk, “Returning them, obviously.” He answers slyly as he plucks another pair that’s a deep purple shade and holds it up in the air to contemplate something. “She… let me borrow them,” He lies.

To which Gojo’s head cocks back immediately and the scoff that comes flying past his lips is almost comedic, “You can barely hold eye contact with the woman, let alone hold an actual conversation with her long enough for you two to have a significant relationship in which she’d let you ‘borrow’ her favorite pair of panties.”

“I’d ask how you know they’re her favorite but,” Geto sends a sideways glance back at his friend and there’s something cocky written all over his naturally smug expression as he does so. Then he sizes Gojo up and down, “Given the way you were sniffing that pillow… it doesn’t surprise me that you’re privy to that information.”

“I’m privy to it in the same way you are,” Gojo shoots back, giving Geto a size-up of his own. There was some sort of unspoken competitive tension stirring between the two men now. “Plus, I was gonna go for those but they went missing before I could snatch ‘em up… now I know why.”

He then reaches into his pocket and pulls out a softer blue pair of panties and tosses them over to the raven-haired male, watching the way he effortlessly catches it in one hand before slipping both of his hands onto it to feel the fabric.

“I got stuck with those,” Gojo continues, “Not that I’m complaining, of course. They’re cute ‘n match my eyes,” He says matter-of-factly. A smirk similar to Geto’s drags across his face as he eases his way closer to his best friend before placing a hand onto his shoulder and squeezing lightly. Then Gojo leans into his ear just to whisper, “Oh, and they were used when I got them.”

Geto physically reacts to just the mere thought of that. Being able to snatch up a pair of panties fresh off of your body, dripping in your scent, perhaps even dripping in something else, and-

God, he was getting hard at just the thought alone. 

And unfortunately, it was pissing him off. He shrugs Gojo’s hand off of his shoulder rudely and flings the panties back into your drawer before rolling his eyes, “Oh whatever.” Geto scoffs sassily, “Are you implying that you’re a better creep than me or something?”

Gojo throws his hands up as if admitting defeat, “Nono, I’m not a creep at all! A bit of a weirdo? Maybe. A stalker? Perhaps. But I’m not a creep.”

“Listen here Radiohead,” Geto starts up snarkily with a sideways glance toward his friend who mumbles something along the lines of, ‘that’s not even how the lyrics go…’ in between his talking. “I regret to inform you that you’re all of the above.” Geto finishes off with a sigh. He then turns around to face Gojo and the two are eye to eye now. “Now back to my question, Satoru. What are you doing here?”

“I’m not sure you’re really in the position of questioning me at all, Suguru.” Gojo bites back with a smug look on his face. Then he shrugs, “You came to return panties you stole, I came here to do what I always do.”

Cocking a brow, “What, pillow-sniffing?” Geto scoffs in question, stuffing his hands—which still have a new pair of your panties in them—back into his pockets.

Gojo rolls his eyes at that, “No…” The dramatics in his tone make Geto bite back a chuckle at how ridiculous his friend was being, as if he hadn’t already been caught in the act. “Well,” Gojo moves a hand to scratch the back of his neck all nervously, “Okay, maybe, yeah-, b-but before you judge me, you should give it a try! It smells just like her.”

“No shit, she sleeps on the damn thing.” Geto deadpans, violet eyes boring into Gojo’s blue ones.

“Damn, you really are a stalker,” Gojo replies anyway. His habit of shifting the blame onto his friend was truly growing more and more comical by the second, “How do you know she doesn’t sleep on the other side?”

Geto blinks in slow motion before letting out a very long breath of air, “The same way you know, dingus.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever-”

“And I won’t be giving that a try at all, that’s weird.” The raven adds on as he glances over to your bed.

To which Gojo takes offense and scoffs, “No weirder than going through her laptop.”

Geto’s eyes snap back onto Gojo and he quickly sizes him up and down, his face twisting up in mockery, “Says the one who jerks off with her favorite body wash.”

“Like you haven’t done the same with her lotion,” Gojo fires back quickly enough for it to seem like he had the reply ready.

“‘Least I don’t go fishing through her laundry.”

“Yeah because that’s so much better than going through her drawers.”

“Well-”

Before Geto gets to finish that, the sound of a car pulling up outside makes both of their words die off on their tongues as they go completely still. Geto and Gojo stare at one another for a long moment, their breaths catching in their throat at the mere sound. They knew it was you.

Rushing over to your window and practically pushing at one another, the two hurry to get a look just to make sure they’re not going crazy and that you had actually come back home early.

To their everloving surprise, there you were getting out of your vehicle rather quickly and causing alarms to go off in both of their heads. Geto turns away from the window first, shoving at Gojo to get a move on before you make your way inside because maybe they could-

The thought can’t even be concluded before they hear your front door opening and then closing. Holy shit you were moving quickly.

The duo shares one more lingering stare between each other before they both move to the nearest places they can think of. At first, they both head toward your closet to hide in but Gojo trips Geto and gets in there before he can, shutting the door quickly and quietly.

After the past few weeks of stalking you, if there’s one thing Geto’s learned, it’s how to be spookily quieter than normal. Given that, he manages to land on his palms with the faintest thump humanly possible.

A ticked off glare is sent toward the doors of your closet, one of which Gojo could feel even from behind the shut doors. Yet, before Geto could make another attempt at getting into the closet, he heard you making your way up the stairs. Fast as shit, too.

So, he does the only logical thing possible in this situation.

He’s already on the floor and it’s only natural that he lays flat down and then rolls himself over until he’s laying on his back and fully underneath your bed.

Just as he gets under there—heart pounding in his chest and breathing unsteady—your room door is pushed open, then shut softly behind you as your feet come pattering against your carpet floor.

Geto has to slip a hand over the lower half of his face to conceal his heavy breathing and his lashes are batting nervously as his eyes trail your every move. He watches the way you near the bed, listens to you place something down on it, and then watches you walk over to your mirror before you begin to undress a little.

Something stirs within him as he watches your jacket fall to the floor where you stand and he wonders—hopes, even—if you’re going to go into your closet and find his idiot of a best friend standing there.

Now that would make the fact that you came home early all worth it. Well, so long as Gojo doesn’t rat him out shortly after by saying something dumb like, ‘damn, guess we’ve been caught, Suguru’.

Geto rolls his eyes at the thought, knowing wholeheartedly that that’s definitely something Gojo would do.

Then he returns his attention to the currently undressing you, who he watches your top fall to the floor before you (unfortunately) walk over to your dresser. Geto listens for a bit longer as you fish through your drawers for a more comfortable top and then he suddenly feels his phone buzz in his pocket.

Thank God his ringer is off and luckily for him the buzz isn’t loud enough to catch your attention. He pulls the device out of his pocket to see a text from Gojo that reads, ‘She bought a sex toy.’

Geto swallows dryly as he runs his eyes over those words a few times. After processing it, he lets his gaze flick toward the closet, which he notices is now cracked open just enough for Gojo to be able to see out of without looking obvious.

That explains how Gojo knew that, he probably saw the box on the bed. Or hell, maybe even the toy itself.

Geto clicks his phone off without replying to Gojo and turns his head to face straight up. 

A box of a newly purchased sex toy was sitting on the bed he was currently laying under. To his knowledge, you didn’t have any other toys. This would be your first.

Meanwhile Gojo’s eyes are flickering back and forth between his phone—awaiting some kind of reply from Geto aside from the read reciept—and that box sitting oh-so-prettily atop your bed.

From what he could see, it was definitely a dildo. Your (presumably) first and only toy for pleasure.

The two men hidden in your room watching and listening to you both wonder the same thing at the same time:

You’re not about to try that out now, are you?

Could that have possibly been why you were in a rush earlier, Geto wonders. The delivery of that item is probably why you didn’t stay at Utahime’s place for hours like you normally do, Gojo figures.

And while they're busy pondering to themselves, the sound of you carrying on with the opening of said package could be heard.

You—completely oblivious to your company—found a pair of scissors and began to work open that box of yours. With the way you were facing, Gojo had a clear shot of your face and he finds himself smiling at how truly oblivious you are. Is this whole situation by far the creepiest thing he or Geto have done since they started stalking you? Well, yes. Does that mean they aren’t enjoying this whole thing despite their fear of being caught? Of course not.

By the time you get the actual item out of its packaging, you’re sitting all prettily on your bed and holding the item up in the air for inspection.

Gojo lets out a gasp all too loudly as his eyes fall on the dildo in your hand, having to slap a hand over his mouth because of it. Geto hears the sound—shutting his eyes immediately and biting back the world’s longest sigh—and he knows for a fact that if he heard it from all the way under your bed, you did too.

Your head lifts and you look into the direction of which it came, wondering if you’d really heard that or if you were imagining things. Truth be told, you’ve been paranoid because of all the oddities happening around your house for the past few weeks so obviously when you hear something that sounded like a gasp, you’re left on edge.

Gojo should have stumbled back deeper into your closet the moment your head began to turn but he did everything but that. If anything, those bright blue eyes of his widen and you’re sitting on your bed staring carefully. Everything was fine as your eyes narrowed to get a better look. Y’know, until you made direct eye contact with the man.

You’re not sure what happens first: Gojo walking out of your closet and saying something about, “Before you start screaming–” or the way you falter right off of your bed with a shout of, “What the fuck?!”

Then there’s Geto—who you’re not quite aware of just yet—who’s under your bed praying that everything he just heard was just a part of his imagination. Surely Gojo did not just come out of your closet, right? Right??

Gojo, who’d oh-so-awkwardly walked out of your closet as if it were the most casual thing in the world, is now holding the dildo you instinctively chucked at him before you went tumbling backwards and fell on the other side of your bed. “Eeeasy, sweets. I know what this looks like–”

“What the hell are you doing in my house?” You cut off cleanly as your head pops up into his line of sight again, your eyes fixated on the all too familiar display of his face. The fact that he’s been in your room all this time paired with the way you know who he is slowly makes your head spin with confusion.

And then he’s just there, looking at you as if you were the crazy one in this situation. “Okay, rude.” Gojo tuts with a sassed roll of his eyes, “You didn’t even let me finish.”

This whole situation was starting to feel like some weird fever dream. You almost couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that this was actually happening. Huffing, “Answer my question, Gojo. What the fuck are you doing in my house??”

His hands move up as if to admit defeat, dildo still firmly held in his left, “Well, I came by to return a little somethin’ I borrowed a few weeks ago–”

“So you’re the one who’s been stealing my shit?” You interupt yet again, “A-And wait, how the fuck have you been getting in??”

“Obviously I made a spare key…” He explains in a tone slow enough to piss you even more. “Geez, is this your first time having a stalker or what?” If there was ever a time and place for sarcasm, it damn sure wasn’t here or now.

It takes you a few seconds of staring to process the reality of this situation. Gojo was really just standing here in your house unprompted, your dildo in hand, and looking at you as if this was just another wednesday night for him.

He’s the one behind all that weird stuff that’s been happening around your house. Your hygiene products being moved about, your missing panties, finding your laptop in strange places, and the random strands of hair you’d find all now suddenly making a lot more sense. “It.. It was all you,” You utter the realization in a way that makes his heart flip in his chest.

It felt nice to be recognized by you—even in this rather peculiar situation—and yeah, half of the things you’re probably blaming him for was actually Geto’s doing, Gojo could care less about correcting you right now. Your mind was on him right now and that was all that mattered. The last thing he wanted to do was share the spotlight.

“Awh, ya’ caught me,” Gojo murmurs with a sly unapologetic grin starking across his unfairly handsome face, “It certainly was all me, I hope you don’t mind. If you’d like me to drop to my knees and apologize, I have no problem-”

“What?” You scoff, steadily moving to stand up. “Gojo, I want you to get the fuck out of my house.”

You watch the man move a hand over his heart, faking pain. “Ouch, sweetheart. I spend all these months looking after you and this is the thanks I get?”

Your lashes bat in pure cynicism, “I’m sorry, what the hell did you expect me to say when you come bursting out of my closet?”

“I mean, I expected the anger and confusion, sure...” He explains with no sense of remorse on his face still.

And while the two of you bicker, Geto’s still laying beneath your bed trying to figure out which point he should roll out and correct you. It’s unfair Gojo’s getting the opportunity to get scolded by you and he isn’t. He stalked you too! 

Gojo continues, “...But, y’know, I also hoped you’d want some sort of apology too?”

You send him that blank stare from across the room again and your lips part a few times as you try to figure out how the hell you’re supposed to respond to that. “You hoped I’d want some sort of apology? So, you wanted to get caught?”

He cracks a smirk, “You don’t see me complaining about this little predicament of ours, do you?”

“I..” Your voice just dies out in your throat with the way you find yourself at a true loss of words. Then you run a hand over your face and just sigh tiredly, “Please just leave.”

His shoulders slump and he starts pouting before turning on his heels, “Fiiiine, fine… But uh,” He pauses and holds his hand up, revealing the dildo that never quite left his hand after you threw it at him. “I’m taking this with me.”

Your brows furrow and you start walking around your bed to approach him, “What the hell? No, give that back.”

His footing shifts against the floor and then he starts backtracking his steps a bit, holding the item up high, “Come take it from me.”

“Gojo, we are not doing this.” You say flatly before you stop moving and fold your arms.

He tilts his head all innocently, “Sweetheart, you can call me Satoru, y’know.”

Rolling your eyes, you extend your palm, “Fuck you. Hand over the toy.”

“First off, I’m all yours if you’ll have me. Secondly, sure.” He then dangles the dildo in the air again, “Just come get it.”

You remain unmoving, “Gojo.”

A beat passes between the two of you. He’s smiling and you look like you’re two seconds away from attacking him, which he wouldn’t mind since that’d mean your hands are on him–

Begrudgingly, you end up caving with slumped shoulders and sigh, “...Satoru.”

His smile widens, “Atta’ girl,” He praises smoothly enough for you to feel a bit differently about this situation. Does that make you easy in some sense? Well, yeah but, it’s Satoru Gojo for Christ’s sake! Who could blame you? With another wave of that embarrassing sex toy, Gojo gestures towards you, “C’monn, take it from me.”

Annoyed by this whole turn of events, you end up walking over to him after a quick roll of your eyes. He gladly lets you snatch the toy out of his hands and then you turn away without another word.

Just as you go to walk away, you feel fabric against your foot and look down to see your underwear on the floor. Grimacing at the sight, you bend to swipe them up but you find yourself wondering if these were going to be Gojo’s next jerk material…

You shake the thought away and just so happen to lift your eyes a little and spot long inky strands of hair sticking out from under your bed.

If there was one thing you knew for certain, it was that wherever Gojo seemed to be, Geto was never too far behind. No matter the situation, apparently.

“Geto I know damn well that’s not you under my fucking bed right now.” You breathe out while tipping your head down to look.

It would have been really embarrassing if no one was there but with the way a pair of violet-shaded eyes meet yours, you find yourself groaning.

Offering you an all too innocent smile, “Would you like me to hold your hand as I say this to you or…”

“Jesus Christ,” You scoff, standing all the way up again, “Get from under there. Now.” 

He takes his sweet time to roll out from beneath your bed and when he finds himself up on his feet, you end up making him and Gojo stand side by side while you pace back and forth trying to figure out what to say to the two men.

Technically Geto heard everything you said to Gojo but, you weren’t thinking about that right now. All you could mull over in the moment was the way you had not one but two people stalking you.

Geto offered the same thing Gojo did, mentioning something about groveling at your feet to apologize for it all if you wanted him to. Now, you did stand there and pretend like seeing either of them on their knees begging for your forgiveness wouldn’t be the hottest thing you’ve seen all year but, in your defense, this whole thing was overwhelming enough.

Eventually, you slowly turned around and looked at both of them, noticing the steady lack of remorse for everything. It was as though neither of them were fazed by getting caught in your room—even though technically Gojo came out of your closet on his own accord, in a way—and the look of nonchalance mixed with pure casualty on their faces was starting to piss you off.

“So, let me get this whole thing straight.” You manage to say calmly, “You both have been stalking me, stealing my clothes, doing God knows what with my underwear and cleansing products, and now…” You scoff, “What, you’re here to return the shit you’ve taken???”

They look at one another before looking at you and then nodding in sync, still not seeming to feel the least bit guilty. The cherry on top of this whole thing was the painful fact that they both look so utterly desperate behind the creepy flicks of amusement in their eyes.

Maybe you were imagining it all and just finding some weird way to romanticize the fact that two men spent their free time watching you but, you swear every time your voice got louder they looked like they were seconds away from dropping to their knees.

To make it worse? You thought it was hot.

Not the whole stalking thing but, the way they were looking at you right now. You were standing there scolding them about being sick perverts and all they did was smile and nod as if they wanted you to be meaner to them.

“Okay,” You eventually manage out as your pacing finally comes to a pause. You couldn’t just let them go, not after everything had been revealed. No, you had to get them back for all that they did. They don’t get to walk out of your house with no consequences. 

Hell, by this point the idea of kicking them out at all kinda faded out of your head.

You turn to look at both of them and watch the way Gojo and Geto straighten up where they stand. Then your eyes fall down onto the dildo in your hand and it just… clicks. You glance at them again, then to the toy, them once more, and then you point the dildo towards the two of them. 

“Y’know what,” The sound of your voice so suddenly makes the two men fight the urge to gulp. Something had changed and it left a subtle chill slipping down their spines as they noticed the shift in your tone. “I know what I’m gonna do with you two.”

The two men weren’t sure if they should’ve been scared or excited.

Gojo’s the one to clear his throat, asking, “And what might that be, exactly…?”

You smile abruptly, “You two like watching me, right?”

……

Moments later Gojo and Geto find themself tied to your bed.

Clothes discarded, cocks freed into the air all achingly and twitching—the two men had been forced to watch you in a way they’d only dreamed about before. Before they knew it, you had your legs parted grubbly as you worked that pitiful piece of silicone into your sopping pussy.

When you said you knew what you were going to do to them, the last thing they expected was for you to get back at them by torturingthem in this way. But, since they had a thing for watching you, this should be no different, right? 

All that stalking they did pretty much went down the drain as they sat here now with throbbing dicks since neither of them realized you were into shit this kinky. Neither of them were exactly complaining (yet) but this really was another form of torment they couldn’t have predicted by a long shot.

You’re clumsy with the way you handle that pathetic toy and your moans are weak and probably even fake, they both assume. Geto knows for a fact that he could make you much louder in seconds by using only his tongue and Gojo’s almost certain his fingers could have gotten you off properly a long time ago.

And yet there they sat, huffing and puffing at the lack of being able to touch you right now. Their wrists strain against the rough rope you just so happened to have in one of your drawers.

Gojo’s got his head tossed back and his hips keep bucking into the air all desperate to feel literally anything right now. He moves with every slick squelch that enters the air as those few inches slosh into your cunt. Mumbling something like, “‘Could fuck you s’much better if you’d let me, sweetheart… please…” as if to get you to change your mind about this whole thing.

Seeing as that doesn’t seem to faze you at all, Geto takes it upon himself to start throwing out some words of convincing. “C’mon, gorgeous, y’know he’s right… You look so cute takin’ that fake cock but we all know you need somethin’ a little bigger now.”

You let out a slightly louder moan as if to counter his words and for just a second, your eyes meet his and you feel the way your cunt reacts with a needy clench around your dildo as you slide it as deep as it could reach. Which wasn’t too far. If Geto and Gojo were right about one thing, it was that the toy you were using really wasn’t that big.

Geto’s eyes are starved as they set onto yours and you might’ve looked away first if not for the way his gaze drops and then his expression falters. You watch the way his lips part and a very faint whine exits his throat the moment his eyes settle onto the spread of your pussy.

“Fuuuck, don’t make me beg..” He breathes out all of a sudden despite you not even saying anything yet. Then those purple irises meet your face again, “Look at us-, look at me, m’leaking for you.”

“Don’t forget about me, m’here too…” Gojo adds in, sending his friend a very short glare before looking at you, “If anything, I’m leaking more than he is. Look at my cock, sweetheart, he’s twitchin’ for some attention. C’mon, look.”

You were quickly growing conflicted as your eyes traveled back and forth between the two. Unconsciously, your hand began to work the dildo in and out of your honeyed walls faster and you were biting back a series of desperate moans. “I-I can’t look at you both at the same time.” You huff out.

To which Geto smirks, “No, but you could take us both at the same time, I bet. ‘Could let us stretch that pussy out real good f’you.”

The way you gulp at that tells him everything he needs to know.

Gojo lets out another groan and speaks through slightly gritted teeth, “We’d hit deeper than that little toy of yours ‘n you know it. Hah, shit… I could probably fuck the damn thing into you better than you’re doing right now.”

“Shut up,” You whine oh-so-pathetically. 

“If you didn’t want us to talk, you should’ve taped our mouths shut.” Geto scoffs with a slight cock of his head.

Your lips are parting a little wider and you hate the way this is turning you on more than you thought it would. Hell, maybe he had a point there. Perhaps you should’ve taped their mouths shut with the way things were playing out right now…

So much for tormenting them.

“And it’s never too late to shut us up yourself,” Gojo’s adding. Yeah, you were dreading this already with the way they both were talking now. “I can think of a few other things I could be doin’ with this mouth of mine aside from runnin’ it so much.”

You try to roll your eyes to display some form of annoyance but from their point of view, it just looks like your eyes roll back as you stuff that dildo deeper. Unintentionally whining, “I hate you both.”

A nasty trail of cum is building up along the head of Geto’s cock now, leaking down furiously and making it harder for him to breathe properly. Even so, his teasing seems to know no bounds, “Aww, do you? Or do you just hate the effect we have on you without even laying a finger on you?”

“Maybe she hates how wet we get her, Suguru,” Gojo huffs—as if he’s fairing any better—with his cock achingly hard now. The slightest glance of your eyes would probably make him cum right now but you’re too busy experiencing your own orgasm to realize, “Look at that mess she’s makin’.”

“Mhm, you’re right, Satoru,” Geto pants, drooling the more he stares. “She’s trying to act all tough like we can’t see how desperate she is for more.”

At this point, you couldn’t even play off the way you were fully getting off to their words. Every syllable of filth that hit your ears only made the room heavier with the weight of lust and your hand was growing tired.

“Look at that, she’s got her mouth all open now—bet she’s fantasizing about what it’d be like to take one of us down that throat of hers.” Gojo points out all of a sudden, seeing the way your thighs sprawl out and your hips buck up.

Geto’s brows are twisting up at the sight and he merely slumps back against your headboard, “Uhuh, and oh, her legs are getting wider… That poor toy can’t even keep up with what it takes to satisfy such a needy pussy.”

You gasp sharply and Gojo smiles at the sound of that, “Shiit, keep talkin’ like that and I might get off before she does, Suguru.”

For just a moment—and a mere moment alone—Geto’s attention is stripped from you as he turns to look at his best friend. He can’t help but smile at the sight of how wrecked Gojo looks right now, happy to see he’s not the only one losing his mind.

That cheshire smirk of his drags out across his lips, “Heh, it’s never taken much for you, has it, Satoru? You haven’t even been touched yet.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatev-, woah, h-hey sweetheart,” Gojo ends up stammering as he catches you crawling toward him, eyes glinting with a sudden hunger he wasn’t quite expecting from you. He swallows thickly whilst you draw nearer, “What uh, what are you doing..?”

The toy you’d been using is all but discarded now and he doesn’t even get the chance to catch his hitched breath before your hand is wrapping around the weeping head of his cock.

“Oh fuck,” Gojo chokes out heavily, white lashes fluttering gracefully as you begin to lower your head down. “Listen, I know I talk a lot of shit but-, fuck.. I-I’m not good with-, I can’t–”

He doesn’t get to finish his protests because your lips are sloppy and wet around his blushing cockhead, leading him to whine so sweetly. Your eyes lift to his while you urge his dick into your slick mouth and Gojo’s brain freezes.

“What the fuck,” He’s panting out all confused, too drunk on this entire scenario to structure his thoughts properly. Then your tongue flicks up against his frenulum and Gojo chokes on the next moan that dances past his lips. “Why’re you-, wait, don’t stop-,” He’s a muddled mess already but his hips thrust up anyway, “Oh fuck, don’t stop, sweetheart.”

Geto doesn’t know if he’s jealous of the attention he’s watching Gojo receive right now or turned on by it. Had their words really worked you up so much that you couldn’t even play with yourself anymore? Cute.

“I take my eyes off ya’ for two seconds and then you go throwin’ your mouth on my best friend?” Geto asks rhetorically, “S’not fair… I can’t even touch myself to this. Are you really gonna let me sit here with my cock this hard and—”

You lift your head with a sharp pop of spit echoing into the air before you whisper, “Suguru,” And he shuts his mouth all obediently, dick weeping amply at the mere mention of his name from your saliva-sleeked lips. “Stop whining and,” You pause just to plant a chaste kiss against Gojo’s veiny shaft, “mwah… come over here.”

As if possessed, the man moves faster than either of you register.

“Don’t gotta tell me twice. M’riiiiight here, gorgeous,” Geto purrs from behind you within the next moment. You feel his wet tip press against your even wetter folds, sliding up and down the gloss of them before he lets out a relieved little sigh.

Then you feel a hand meet your hip and you flinch.

Wasn’t he just tied up moments ago…?

Chuckling at the way you’d just uttered that aloud, Geto hums, “Surely you didn’t think those knots would keep me from touching you forever.” His hand slides over along your hip as he adjusts his touch over to your lower back and then caresses the skin of your spine, pressing lightly. “Deepen that arch for me, pretty.”

Your body molds oh-so-perfectly to his touch and the smile that graces his handsome face is cocky.

“Atta’ girl,” He chimes, tipping his head to the side. “Mmh, look at that. You practice this or somethin’?” Geto asks, his smirk alone complementing that gorgeous curve in your spine and the way it left you looking so utterly delicious beneath him.

With Gojo’s cockhead quickly mashing against your inner cheek again as you turn your head, you nod in a way that’s just downright slutty. “Uhuh,” You mumble in response. 

Then a new hand is weaving through your hair and turning your head forward once more. Gojo’s gazing down at you, “Don’t get distracted now, work that cock down your fuckin’ throat.” He breathes out all meanly, grunting, “Mhmmm, juuust like that.” the second you slobber your lips down his length again. 

“Quit hoggin’ all her attention, Satoru,” Geto huffs before landing a sudden slap against your ass, gripping the fat of it and spreading you a bit wider for himself. His head cocks to the side and he looks down just to watch your pussy drool against his dick, smiling at the sight. “Stingy fuck..”

Gojo’s thin brows furrow and he huffs, “You’d be stingy too if you-, mmgh.. hahh, h-had this throat wrapped around you..”

“Doubt it,” Geto argues, “I’ve always been.. agh.. able to handle head properly unlike someone,” He accentuates that word of his with one seamless thrust into your dripping hole, leaving you moaning around Gojo’s cock all messily. His words weren’t even toward you but there you were clenching around the rude stretch of his inches anyway.

Gojo sneers, “Y-Yeah well, I handle pussy better.”

As if that was the most audacious thing he’d ever heard, Geto fights a laugh between the crisp breath of air he sucks in, “Better than who?”

“You, obviously,” Gojo’s smiling now, pushing and guiding your head up and down the expanse of his cock a bit slower now so he could multitask you and this conversation properly.

Geto rolls his eyes at that and both of his hands meet the purchase of your hips, grinding his own into you steadily just to hear a moan struggle at the center of your throat where his friend’s tip is currently kissing, “Satoru, don’t put on a show just ‘cause we’ve got company now.”

“W-What are you talking about…” Gojo stammers with faux perplexity.

With your slight gagging of whines and moans, your pussy is all but spasming around every heavy inch Geto’s driving in and out of you. “Fuuck,” He groans prettily before tossing his head back, the dark tresses of his hair splaying out gorgeously along his chest and down his spine, “You got off with her soap, I doubt you could handle…” His breath trips in his throat at the way your hips clash back against him, “B-Being inside her for longer than a minute..”

“Oh, like you’re doing right now?” Gojo points out with his eyes firmly trained onto his friend now. 

Part of him wishes you could see this, the way Geto’s all ruined behind you and hardly able to move his hips because he’s relishing the fact that he’s actually inside you right now. You’re just taking everything Geto gives you as if you couldn’t get enough. 

Gojo’s lower lip gets caught in between his teeth for a moment with the way Geto’s brows scrunch up cutely and his cheeks flush over. “Hah, look at’cha, Suguru. Face all twisted up… I know that face, you’re gonna cum soon, aren’t you?”

The raven groans again and you feel his hands press your back into an even deeper arch as he starts driving his cock into you harder, more determined now, “Not before you, I won’t.”

“Sweetheart look at this,” Gojo hums, forcing your head up and giving you a moment to breathe and then angle your head back to look at Geto.

He’s a complete mess behind you, drool sliding down to his chin as he ruts sloppily into your cunt and fights off a whorish moan from leaving his throat. Especially with the way you smile a little and start clenching around him even tighter.

“S’not fair,” Geto grunts, landing another mean smack against your ass. He tries to look up in hopes of at least seeing you all debauched around Gojo’s cock but to his ever loving surprise, you’re sitting there watching him. 

Yeah, you’ve got one hand lazily stroking Gojo still but that does nothing to soothe the throb you invoke with the way you’re mouthing the word ‘harder’ and egging Geto on right now.

Were you even the same woman he’d been stalking all this time? You couldn’t be. No, not with that look in your eyes—the one that’s telling him you’ve been wanting this—you couldn’t possibly be that same woman.

“F-Fuuuck-” His voice cracks this time and his eyes start rolling back, hips moving mindlessly fast and dick thrashing at your sweet spot. 

“Last longer than me, my ass.” Gojo scoffs, moving his hand to your jaw and turning you to look at him again, “What do you think, sweets? How’s he feel inside you? Feel like he’s gonna cum soon?”

You felt the way Gojo lifted your face all the way up to his and your body jerks closer to his as Geto continues to plow into you from behind. “U-Uhuh, h-he’s… anh, mmgh… right there, Sugu’,” You babble all fucked-out whilst your face is tugged upward.

“He’s what? C’mon, focus on me, baby. I know it feels good but Toru’s talkin’ to you right now, alright?” Gojo whispers, gripping onto your jaw a bit tighter now and causing your face to squish against the pads of his fingers.

You flash this cockdrunk little smile and chew on your lower lip for a second before replying, “Did you just-, mmgh… talk in third p-person?”

“I did,” He chuckles, “But that’s besides the point. Is he about to cum or not?”

“I-I don’t kn-” You’re cut off as a hand reaches into your hair and hauls your head back, causing your jaw to leave Gojo’s grip roughly. All of which is followed by Geto’s toned pelvis pressing against your ass harder and then  he leans down and his lips meet your ear.

“Y-Yeah, tell him yeah,” Geto purrs against your skin, “Tell Toru I’m about to cum alll inside this pussy,” He groans, “Make him jealous, that’s all he wants. Trust me, pretty girl.”

You hardly get the chance to think because your hand is too busy dragging along Gojo’s cock faster and your whole body twitches when Geto wraps an arm around your waist and slips his hand down to rub over your clit. Oh all three of you were a mess at this point.

Mixes of grunts, groans, and moans swirled throughout the air. The constant slap of Geto’s skin against the fat of your ass and even your palm gliding along Gojo’s sweltering cock made the room sound so ridiculously filthy.

“Sugu! Fuck, I-I can’t,” You huff out between his bullying thrusts.

“Aw, none of that,” Gojo’s adding in suddenly, “You can follow some simple instructions, c’mon.” He taunts as he leans forward a bit.

Your eyes are on his but they’re all teary from the way Geto’s got most of your body bending and folding to his will, “Y-You already-, hah.. ah! Heard what he-, ohmygod… w-what he said.”

“So? I wanna hear it from you.” Gojo says directly as he tips his head down and unexpectedly swipes the flat of his tongue all the way up along the center of your throat, reaching your jaw and sucking lightly. “Say it for me, sweet thing.”

“F-Fuck… Suguru-, h-he said..” Two fingers slide into your open mouth and press against your tongue just to ruin you a bit more and your eyes start lulling back again. “‘Said he’s gonna cum inside me…” You blather all sloppily against the two thick digits in your mouth.

“Ohhh, is he now?” Gojo muses while he pries himself back a bit. 

His fingers are thrusting into your mouth simply for the effect of watching you moan around them. Especially as you start nodding and mumbling, “Uhuhh..”

“Mh. Open your mouth f’me.” You do, even wider than it was before. Then Gojo tugs his fingers out, leaving a gooey string of saliva hanging between his fingertips and your lips. He shoots a fat glob of spit onto your tongue and you gasp. “Bet you’ll take every drop just like you took that fuckin’ spit, huh?”

You make the mistake of nodding stupidly again and that seems to only annoy Gojo. Hence why he cocks his head to the side and leans all the way up. Geto uses the hand he’s got buried in your hair to tug your head and the rest of your body up and you think your eyes cross a bit when his hand slips down to the nape of your neck and squeezes. It was almost like he wanted to make sure you kept your eyes on Gojo.

The man in front of you scoffs, “You’re not fucked that dumb yet, use your words.” He instructs.

“Y-Yes, Satoru,” You’re choking on your own drool at this point, feeling Geto’s fat cock plow into you so methodically that you were getting drunker and drunker with each thrust.

Especially with the way he pulls you back just to sear his words all heavily into the side of your face, “And what are you gonna say while I breed this pretty pussy? Hm?”

They both catch the way you smile in true slutty fashion before babbling a gorgeous moan of, “Thank you.”

“Yeahh?” Gojo purrs, slithering himself closer and leaving you completely sandwiched between both of their hot bodies. Geto’s cock was throbbing inside of you and you think your entire frame twitches when you feel Gojo’s dick slide up against your clit before he whispers to you. “And what about me sweetheart?” Then his hands are on your hips.

You pry yourself out of Geto’s grip on your neck just enough to let your lips go crashing into Gojo’s. Almost on cue with that, you feel the slobbering head of his cock sloshing all over your clit, leaving you whining all into his mouth. Then there’s lips at your neck and Geto’s humping against your ass, mushroom tip french-kissing your sweet spot with raw heat before he’s spilling ropes and ropes of creamy cum into you.

You’re moaning too much to keep up with Gojo’s needy kisses so he just slips his lips over to your cheeks and starts licking the tears of pleasure off of your face with a smile on his own. Your moans slowly fade into broken gasps with the way you feel one cock stuffing you full and the other smacking against your clit all meanly.

That only lasts for a few more seconds until Gojo’s groaning like some whore against your face and leaving a wet ‘n sticky mess against your folds just as Geto tugs himself out of you. There were disgusting globs of cum between your thighs now and you don’t think you’ve ever been more ruined in your life.

The three of you are sitting there panting all heavily against one another and it was almost like each of you were scared to move for a while. When you finally get the chance to look down, you quickly notice the difference between how much is spilling out of you and how much was left smeared all over your lower abdomen.

Hands are still on you, a pair caressing your hips and running down your spine while the other pair moved to cup your face, lifting you to meet eyes with Gojo.

You couldn’t think straight enough to talk just yet but luckily for you, Geto’s the first to speak from behind you. His mouth is pressing wet kisses along your shoulder and his voice is contrastingly gentle now, “You did s’good for us, gorgeous.”

Then Gojo nodded with that starstruck look in his eyes, “Gotta’ let us clean you up real good now.” He whispers to you.

You just sit there giving him a dazed blink of your lashes and your lack of reply leaves Geto grinning against your skin before uttering, “We promise not to stalk you anymore after this.”

That seems to snap you back into things, just a bit. You completely forgot you were supposed to be getting them back for stalking you and somehow you ended up letting them make a mess of you instead. 

Whoops!

Before you can finally work out a reply, Gojo’s moving his hands away from your face and looking off to the side with a snarky little scoff leaving his lips. “Who’s we?”

tags 1/2:

@2linaaeatsfamilies @scarletmoonshine0 @medusamara5 @needtoloveoutloud @lipstainedgemini

@kaofindj @d43dg1rl @mimiluvzu2 @lululemmington @choso-enthusiast

@brefninanami @stay0802 @chosos-prettyprincess @ersharyzst @blubearxy 

@ravenbc @sugarcoatedsoul @jay4luvsya @melancholic-cow @grignardsreagent 

@littlefuzzybabykitty @designerpvssy @chrysaoraa @noyaswrld @anonimedsk 

@matchaabliss @thiscornerofmyfanficbrain @fishosezo @midnightartist @mattsukitty 

@idkstrawbs @kenney7124 @didibxx @st4ryki @aeminrty 

@ifiwereabug @crispycatt @natasaa13 @broimherebcsimboredok @ellkaysdream

@mandistromboli @pussyeaterleah @theuniversesnepobaby @mollysails @ficrepostblog

@haesify @loll2210 @mua-for-now @riahlynn-102 @evilari111

[kaleldobrev]

Tattoos

Pairing: Felix Catton x F. Reader

Platonic Pairing(s): Venetia Catton & F. Reader | Farleigh Start & F. Reader

Feat. Character(s): Reader, Felix Catton, Venetia Catton, Farleigh Start & Oliver Quick

Summary: Not only are you dating Felix and best friends with Venetia, the three of you have matching tattoos — something that Oliver simply cannot stand

Word Count: 967

Warnings: Voyeurism (briefly mentioned), Nudity (implied — as this takes place in the field), Unprotected sex (briefly mentioned/implied)

Authors Note: I love the little detail that Felix and Venetia have those matching star tattoos on their hands, so I came up with this little fic about how reader has matching tattoos with both Catton siblings (cause I honestly feel like that’s such a Felix and Venetia thing to do) | This is also my first ever Saltburn fic so I’m hoping that I was able to do the characters justice | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

Oliver couldn’t help but stare at the small crescent moon tattoo on your ankle; the exact same crescent moon tattoo that both Felix and Venetia had — and in the exact same place — the right ankle.

He wasn’t…jealous, no that wasn’t the right word, but that was the only word that came to mind for him. He didn’t want a tattoo, was never a fan of them on himself, but, seeing you in particular with this tattoo was hitting him, hitting him harder than he’d particularly like to admit. You weren’t family — you were Venetia’s best friend and Felix’s…girlfriend. He understood the little stars that Venetia and Felix had — they were siblings and had an intense unique bond. But you…you were nobody to them less than 5 years ago. But here you here, the three of you with matching tattoos and you strutting around the estate like you were already a Catton.

He must have been staring in one direction for too long, as he heard Felix's voice calling out to him. "You alright there Ollie?" He asked, and Oliver found himself snapping out of whatever trance like state he had just been in.

“I’m f—I’m fine,” he said, trying to sound a little bit more confident than he currently felt in this moment.

When Felix spoke, not only did he turn to look at him, but you, Venetia, and Farleigh did as well. “Are you sure?” You asked, genuinely concerned about his well-being. Oh, how he despised how much you truly seemed to care.

"You've been staring off into space," Felix added. "What'ya staring at?" He asked, placing the lollipop he had been sucking on back into his mouth.

"Probably Y/N's ass," Farleigh teased, and you swatted his arm playfully; giggling briefly. Your laugh disgusted him because of how sickingly sweet it sounded.

"Farleigh, I'm sure he wasn't," you said defending him. You turned your attention to him, a soft smile on your lips. "Isn't that right Ollie?" You asked. He could barely see your face between the combination of the bright sun and your giant sunglasses that seemed to take up the entirety of your face, similarly to that of Venetia's sunglasses.

"Yeah, wasn't...staring," Ollie answered; his vocal tone sounding a tad nervous; and a little embarrassed. He wasn't looking at you, not in that way; you weren't the reason he was here, Felix was.

"I wouldn't blame ya Ollie," Felix began. "She does have a nice one," he finished, his voice almost sounding proud as he smacked your bare rear in front of the four of you.

You let out a tiny yelp; not the usual kind of moan you usually let out whenever he's heard you and Felix have sex. "Get a room you two," Venetia said, briefly glancing up from her book.

"We have a whole estate love," you winked; both you and Felix started laughing in response.

"Not when I'm still living here," she added.

"I second that," Farleigh said, chiming back into the conversation as he raised his hand in agreement with Venetia.

"Prudes," you mumbled underneath your breath, slightly teasing.

"Hey!" Venetia exclaimed. It was her turn to playfully swat you. "If anyone is the prude, it's little Ollie over there." She grinned. "Ollie, when was the last time you had sex?"

"V!" Both Felix and you exclaimed.

"What?" Venetia asked, her tone slightly clueless.

"You cannot just ask people that. It's a little rude," you stated.

"It's not rude. It's a perfectly fine question," she defended. "For example," she began, turning her attention to her brother. "Felix, when was the last time you had sex?" A smallish grin forming on her lips; as if she already knew the answer to her question.

"This morning," he responded all too quickly, and you swatted him on the chest, which caused him to smirk at you in response. Oliver knew all too well the truth in that statement, as he had a slight front row seat to yours and Felix's morning activities. He didn't see anything, but he heard everything as if he was in the room with the two of you. The moans the both of you let out, the dirty talk the both of you shared — performing in such a way as if the two of you were the only two in the entire estate. He wanted so much to see it, to open the bedroom door, he knew that the door would have creaked — pressing his ear against the bedroom door sufficed...for now anyway.

"Kinky," Farleigh smirked, and you rolled your eyes.

"All of you are ridiculous," you stated, closing your book as you started to slowly kick your feet in the air. "Don't answer her Ollie."

"It was before uni," he mumbled.

"What'ya say Ollie?" Felix asked, raising a brow.

"Before uni," Oliver said a bit louder this time.

Felix and Venetia exchanged looks before Felix looked at him with a slightly devilish looking grin. It was impossible not to love any kind of smile he would give. "For your party tomorrow, we'll get you laid. It'll be my birthday present to you."

"Kind of a lame birthday present, love," you teased.

Felix let out a small laugh. "You weren't complaining when that was a part of your birthday gift last year," he teased back. That's when he leaned in, kissing you in the most loving way possible; and Oliver actually felt like he was on the verge of throwing up looking at the two of you. He had witnessed the two of you kissing plenty of times, had witnessed snippets of you two being intimate in various ways, but for some reason, this particular interaction had almost set him off. Felix was so madly in love with you that it physically pained him to see it.

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[gublernatural]

i’ve written sunshine!reader before but i’ve been thinking about grumpy!reader and sunshine!felix catton

grumpy!reader playing early 2000s pop music in her dorm room while felix is over. she initially (and repeatedly) told him that studying only happened at the library, but he finally convinced her to let him come over.

sunshine!felix who is shocked by the decorations covering her part of her dorm room as it is in contrast to the plain-looking clothes she wears.

sunshine!felix telling grumpy!reader he wasn’t expecting her to listen to this kind of music, joking about rock and metal music.

grumpy!reader who rolls her eyes at his comment because everyone listens to pop music. sunshine!felix adamantly disagrees—his music taste is far too superior and indie for pop music.

sunshine!felix who keeps smiling when he hears grumpy!reader singing along under her breath while she figures out complex math equations.

sunshine!felix who tells grumpy!reader that he loves hearing her sing love songs, that she’s adorable when he tries to hit high notes.

grumpy!reader who rolls her eyes and throws a highlighter at him. she huffs “get back to work and stop staring at me!”

sunshine!felix who has a teasing smirk on his face, insisting that she is too distracting. he can’t help but pinch her pretty cheeks, that are covered with a small, shy blush.

grumpy!reader who won’t allow him to get under her skin and into her heart, no matter how hard he tries.