୧ ‧₊˚🫖*☆ LATE NIGHT INS...
୧ ‧₊˚ 🫖 ⋅ ☆ pairing : ̗̀➛ mike wheeler x babysitter!reader
( #‧₊˚ ) synopsis ; mike and the others arrive late to the house to find little holly’s babysitter cleaning up the basement.
( #‧₊˚ ) words ; 1.6k
YOU DIDN’T KNOW MUCH ABOUT THE PARTY. You’ve seen them running around school, always with a suspicious scheme murmured in hushed voices wherever they went. It wasn’t until you started babysitting the youngest Wheeler girl that you started to really pay attention to them.
You knew Max Mayfield, both of you sharing a cemented hatred for your history teacher and his monotone voice and unorganized assignments that not only bored you to death but made no sense. The girl with pretty fiery hair was someone you hung out with on occasion. She had been your ultimate friend crush when she first arrived at Hawkins in your late middle school years, and it took a bunch of your courage before you even spoke a word to her. She ran along the party and would always greet you when you coincided at the Wheelers as you worked. Though, you didn’t see much of her anymore.
Either way, your knowledge of their antics was limited. You doubted they paid any mind to you even when you had started babysitting a long time ago.
Holly was your most consistent kid, and if you were honest, your favorite. You only babysat two other kids than her, children from the women at your mother’s job. But they weren’t like your little Holly.
She was a sensitive girl, but one full of light and love. She would always get excited when you were over, easily follow you along, and always the sweetest when asking for anything. Her conversations were fun, and while babysitting always exhausted you, you always felt at peace with Holly. Today, it was no different.
Holly fell asleep earlier than usual, having been exhausted from the playdate Mrs. Wheeler had asked you to host her. You were currently in the basement picking up from the floor the blankets and teacup set up when the back door was slammed open.
“I’m telling you, you could’ve killed it if you had chosen to blast it with your cannon!”
“There is no way I would have rolled a number high enough for that–”
“The club would not allow that, have you even been paying attention to the campaig–” Dustin Henderson stood past the door when he saw you, “oh, hi.”
You stood from the ground holding the folded blankets, “hi.”
“What are you doing here?” Mike spits out, drawing his eyebrows together.
You raise an eyebrow at him as you balance the blanket pile in your arms, “um… cleaning up?”
He flinched at his own words, “No, yeah. I know. Sorry, I meant… I didn’t know you were working tonight, where’s my mum?”
“Hospital. The sweet older lady around the corner had a small accident, your mom drove her. She called me last minute to watch Holly and her friends.”
The group stood there as they stared in silence, the weirdness of the interaction stretching.
“Is she okay?” Lucas Sinclair asked, intercepting the awkwardness.
“Hm?” you asked, taken aback, “oh, yeah. Mrs Wheeler called to say she would get back home late, and told me that it was nothing major.”
“Oh that’s good,” the boys nodded along.
“Mhm” before the awkward silence could settle back in, you tried to crouch again to grab the pillows on the floor, “well, let me finish cleaning up and the basement is all yours guys.”
Mike leaned forward, dropping his backpack on the floor, and grabbed the pillows for you, “here, let me help you.”
“Oh, you don’t have you,” you placed some of the dishes on top the blanket piles, “It’s okay, really. I can make the double trip up and down the stairs.”
“I don’t mind,” Mike offered you a soft smile as he placed the pillows back on the couch and grabbed all the dishes from you, “I was going to grab some snacks either way.”
He turned back to tell his friends to choose a movie before leading you up the stairs, opening the basement door for you despite having his hands full.
As you walked off to the laundry area to put the blankets away, he disappeared to the kitchen to leave the dishes. You placed the blanket Holly had spilled her juice on inside the washer and let the cycle begin.When you walked back to the kitchen, you were surprised to find Mike still there, washing the little teacups and placing them on the dish rack. “Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to leave that to you, I can take over if you’d like.”
“Eh it’s okay, I got it” he shrugged without really looking at you, scrubbing away.
You moved towards the sink beside him, pulling your sleeves back and grabbing the soapy dishes, “here, I’ll rinse them off.”
He didn’t protest, letting you settle comfortably next to him. He glanced briefly at you, before quickly looking away.
His actions surprised you. Mike Wheeler, in appearance, was anything but what you were seeing. He was tall, in that scrawny type of way, with long and unkempt black hair. From this close, you could notice the light freckles scattered through his pale face. His brown eyes avoided you, but when he spared you a glance, they held this warmth that solidified you.
But he was still a teenage boy. A weird one at that. You saw him in school, with his nerdy shirts from his little club. Truthfully, every time he appeared in your line of sight, he seemed taller than the last time, with that awkward posture as if he was making himself smaller. He was always running around with that air of security which confused you. You were sure Mike was not popular at all, in fact, he probably was closer to the bottom line of the social pyramid than you could ever imagine. But he had a slight confidence in his speech. You had no idea what his group was up to, disappearing at random moments in time, often hanging out with grown ups, and speaking in low whispers.
They had been victims to the idiocy of pubescent schoolboys who had often made their lives difficult for being “different.” You were not Miss Popularity at all, but you seemed to be more acceptable to your peers than the party had ever been.
And despite the lack of kindness and respect he received by your fellow classmates, Mike still had this sense of self-reassurance in himself. He was still awfully shy, which only confused you further. It was admirable, truly, but it clued you how he remained so sure of himself? All the while by being a stuttering mess when you were forced to interact
“So.. um, how was the game?” you opted for small conversation before the hollow silence swallowed you whole again.
“What you guys play in school?” you asked, moving your head to the side, “the dragon’s game?”
“Oh the campaign,” he nodded, “it went well, I guess. Lucas almost died to a troll.”
“Yeah, take a good beating to it.” He kept sharing, scrubbing extra hard at the dried tea, “Grey had to step in and save him, but honestly, I told him that he could have just rolled a 10 and–” he turned to you and noticed your concealed scrunch of eyebrows in confusion, stopping himself as his ear went a little pink, “sorry, I don't mean to bore you with my nerd talk.”
You laughed softly at that, cracking a soft smile, “no, I like it. It sounds like you guys have fun playing.”
He smiled and added lowly, “yeah, we do.”
Together, you quickly finished rinsing the dishes and putting them away. As he dried his hands with the cloth on the rack beside him, you smiled shyly up at him, moving a piece of your hair away from your face, “well, thank you for your help.”
Mike shoved his hands inside his jeans pockets and just nodded, “like I said, it’s nothing, really.”
A silence settled between the two, but not as awkward as earlier. It was quiet in a post-noise type of way, comfortably settling in along with the sound of crickets from the outside, and the moonlight creeping in through the kitchen window.
“How was Holly by the way? She kept you up very late, not much trouble I hope?” you perked up at the question, and went to respond how it had not been that at all. You leaned back as you shared her little antics of the day, and how she insisted on prepping a meal for you consisting of crackers and strawberry yogurt, not moving as she intensely watched you eat them all. He laughed and reminiscenced on when she did that with him over lunch once, but instead of crackers, she had offered him tomato slices.
The conversation was light, awkward but warm. Mostly about what you and Holly did today, and very short-lived as you heard Lucas from downstairs nagging Mike to hurry up with the popcorn.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to hold you hostage up here,” you grinned at him as Mike rolled his eyes at his friend’s complaints.
“They are such babies, I swear.”
He went to put the popcorn inside the microwave as you left to pick up your bag from the living room. When you turned to leave, Mike came back to walk you to the door.
As you stepped out of the house, you turned back to look at him, “Well, see you around Wheeler. Enjoy your popcorn.”
“Sure” he responded quietly, looking down at you in that way as if you’d kicked a puppy, “see you around.”
But as you reached for your bike, you couldn’t help but feel curious about the dark haired boy. Looking at the bikes discarded in the driveway, you pushed away with a thought nagging at the back of your mind.
You may not know much about the party, but you sure wanted to get Mike Wheeler’s puppy eyes to look your way more.
୧ ‧₊˚ 🫖 ⋅ ☆ note ; I am coping with the st5 finale so badly, that I burst out crying at random moments in time even three days after. so! I'm choosing to ignore everything about it and finally getting back to writing. yaaay! (?)
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