PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Andulka
★
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
Cosmic Funnies
cherry valley forever
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Stranger Things
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
ellievsbear
Cosimo Galluzzi
EXPECTATIONS
trying on a metaphor
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Origami Around
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The Stonewall Inn
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@mattsobvimyfav
Master List
matthew sturniolo
series- Roommates , Neighbors , unknown
one-shots- American wedding 1, American wedding 2 , no one noticed
christopher sturniolo
series - coming soon
one-shots - coming soon
requests are open, dm's are open, message or comment to be on tag lists, enjoy <3
guys unfortunately i need lil mabu bad. i cant hide my truth anymore.
reblog if you're willing to answer anything that comes to your ask box right now
fuck should i write another matt fic, i have the whole plot
write it
yes yes
u literally never finish stories
Introduction
Hellloooo here’s our first post on here just wanted to introduce us and the whole point of the page.
Me and my best friend made this page, we are just going to post about our days maybe talk about what’s going on in our life’s, think about this as a reference to anyone going to live at college or living at home and going to college.
Basically I just wanted somewhere to talk about what’s goes on in my life and all the stupid drama and the life i live. so welcome.
Also if you have anyyy questions about life, school, anything u can always ask us im so honest it hurts sometimes.
This page will be so much more put together at some point. It’s the start of second sem and i will get it together at some point.
🩶
i literally love stuff like this bc i love seeing school through other peoples eyes and opinions its so fun and i love blogs god i just love girls so much
i only watched the last few episode of Stranger Things bc my friend is obsessed but your Mike fic has me CLOCKED TF IN i lovee it
thank uuu i will get back to it at some point!!
would you ever make another matt series?
i would if i got some requests
Before the bell (Mike Wheeler)
Part 4
*plot takes place during season 4 however we used season 5 Mike for what he looks like so for his face/hair/outfits/etc. For all intensive purposes all characters are 18+* this was written before my girl el gets slimmed out @ch0llies
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Mike doesn’t look at me.
He keeps staring out the window.
I don’t say anything.
I don’t breathe.
I just sit there.
Silent.
Too silent.
Steve glances at me through the mirror. “You okay back there?”
My fingers curl into my palms.
“Pull over,” I say.
“What?” Steve asks.
“Pull the car over.”
“Hey, chill—”
“Pull the fucking car over!” I yell suddenly, voice cracking. “Pull over! Let me out! Let me the fuck out of this car!”
“Whoa, whoa—” Dustin says. “What the hell—”
“Y/N, relax—” Mike starts.
“I said pull over!” I scream.
Steve swears under his breath and jerks the wheel toward the shoulder, gravel spraying as the car stops hard.
Before anyone can react, I shove the door open.
I climb straight over Mike’s lap, barely registering his hands reaching out for me.
“Y/N, wait—” he says.
Before the bell (Mike Wheeler)
Part 3
*plot takes place during season 4 however we used season 5 Mike for what he looks like so for his face/hair/outfits/etc. For all intensive purposes all characters are 18+* this was written before my girl el gets slimmed out @ch0llies
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Dustin squints at Mike suddenly, like something just clicked in his head. “Wait,” he says slowly. “If you’re here, then why aren’t you in California—”
Mike cuts him off a little too fast. “I just didn’t go,” he says, shrugging like it’s nothing. “Plans changed.”
Dustin blinks. “But you were supposed to see—”
“—Yeah,” Mike says quickly, louder than necessary. “I know. But it didn’t work out. They said it was fine.”
That shuts Dustin up, at least on the surface. He studies Mike for a second, clearly sensing something off, but then he lets it go with a small nod.
“Oh. Okay. Yeah. Cool.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Guess that makes things easier.”
I don’t miss the way Mike avoids my eyes after that. Or the way his jaw tightens like he’s bracing for a question he doesn’t want to answer.
I don’t ask.
Instead, I say, “So what now?”
Before the bell (Mike Wheeler
Part 2
TW- SMUT *plot takes place during season 4 however we used season 5 Mike for what he looks like so for his face/hair/outfits/etc. For all intensive purposes all characters are 18+* lowkey im destroyed over the finale it was so sad, so for all other purposes. i hate life. co-writer @ch0llies
The basement feels quieter without him.
Dustin flops back into his chair, staring at the ceiling. “I still can’t believe that worked.”
I smile, leaning back against the table. “You should believe in me more.”
“Oh, I do now,” he says immediately, sitting up. “Trust me.”
Mike’s still standing near the table, hands resting on the edge like he forgot what to do with them. He looks… lighter. Less wound tight. The sharpness from earlier dulled down.
“That move you pulled at the end,” he says, nodding toward the board. “The timing—most people would’ve panicked.”
“I hate panicking,” I reply. “It wastes turns.”
He huffs out a quiet laugh before he can stop himself.
Silence settles again—but this one’s comfortable.
“So,” Dustin says suddenly, sitting straighter. “Where do you live?”
I tell him the street name.
He squints. “Oh. Yeah, no. That’s like—completely the opposite side of town from me.”
“I’ll be fine,” I say. “I can walk.”
“It’s dark,” Dustin argues instantly. “You’re new. And you don’t have a bike.”
BEFORE THE BELL
a mike wheeler fanfic
*plot takes place during season 4 however we used season 5 Mike for what he looks like so for his face/hair/outfits/etc. For all intensive purposes all characters are 18+*
cowritten by @ch0llies & @mattsobvimyfav
Before the bell (Mike Wheeler)
Part 1
a/n - alright its been a while but me and @ch0llies are back in the studio cooking again so heres part one, enjoyyy
I met them because Dustin Henderson does not believe in easing people into things.
He spots me in the cafeteria like I’m a puzzle he’s already decided to solve. I’m halfway through sitting down when he slides into the seat across from me, grinning like we’re old friends.
“You’re new,” he says. “You look like you’d survive a demobat attack.”
I blink. “Is that… a compliment?”
“It is,” he says seriously. “Do you play Dungeons & Dragons?”
And that’s how I end up at their table.
Dustin drags me over like I don’t weigh anything, narrating the whole way. “Okay, so this is Hellfire Club, which is basically the coolest thing at Hawkins High, and you’re perfect for it, and—”
A guy with long curly hair leans back in his chair, boots hooked around the table leg, eyes lighting up the second he sees me. “Well hello there.”
I give him a small smile. His energy is loud but harmless. Curious, not sharp.
Then there’s the boy sitting across from him.
He looks at me like I’ve personally offended him by existing.
Dustin plops down beside him. “This is Mike, Eddie, Gareth and Jeff” He says pointing around the table “Guys, this is Y/N. She just moved here. I was thinking she could maybe—”
“No,” Mike says immediately.
Just—no.
I raise my eyebrows. Eddie’s head snaps toward him. “No?”
“We don’t need more people,” Mike adds, arms folding across his chest. He doesn’t look away from me. “Hellfire’s full.”
Eddie snorts. “Since when, Wheeler?”
“Since always,” Mike says, clipped. “It’s not really a drop-in thing.”
I smile politely, because I’m good at that. Because I’ve learned it throws people off when you don’t react the way they want you to.
“Hi,” I say. “Nice to meet you too.”
He scoffs under his breath.
Dustin groans. “Dude, what is your problem?”
Mike shrugs, like this isn’t personal—like he isn’t actively being hostile. “Just being honest.”
I tilt my head. “About what?”
He pauses. Just for a second.
Then, “About people joining things they don’t understand.”
Eddie leans forward, elbows on the table. “Damn, man. Who died and made you the gatekeeper?”
Mike’s jaw tightens. Something dark flickers across his face. He looks away.
“Look,” Dustin says quickly, “she doesn’t even have to play. She could just watch—”
“I don’t need to,” I say, cutting in.
Three heads turn toward me.
“I don’t need to join,” I repeat calmly. “I just came because he asked.”
Dustin looks stricken. Eddie looks impressed.
Mike looks… caught off guard.
“I’ll leave you to it,” I add, grabbing my tray. “Good luck with your super important name.”
I don’t wait for a response. I don’t rush, either. I walk away like I don’t feel his eyes on my back, like his attitude didn’t hit something tender.
Behind me, Eddie mutters, “Oh, she’s cool.”
Dustin says, “Mike, what the hell?”
I don’t expect to see them again that day.
But Hawkins has a way of putting the same people in your path whether you want it to or not.
I’m at my locker when I hear my name.
“Y/N.”
I turn. Mike’s standing a few feet away, hands shoved into his jacket pockets, shoulders tense like he’s bracing for impact.
“Yeah?”
He looks uncomfortable. Which feels like a small victory.
“Dustin said you’re… new,” he says.
“That’s usually how that works.”
He exhales sharply through his nose. “Look. I was kind of an asshole earlier.”
Kind of.
I wait.
He doesn’t say sorry. Not yet.
“I’ve got a lot going on,” he adds, like that explains it.
I study him. He looks wrecked up close—eyes tired, mouth set too tight, anger sitting right under his skin like it’s the only thing holding him together.
“Okay,” I say. “That doesn’t give you the right to take it out on me, you don't even know me.”
His jaw clenches. But he nods.
“I know.”
The silence stretches.
“I wasn’t going to join Hellfire anyway,” I say eventually. “But you should probably work on how you talk to people.”
He lets out a quiet, humorless laugh. “Yeah. I’ve been told.”
I turn back to my locker. When I close it, he’s still standing there.
“See you around, Wheeler.”
Teachers mispronounce my name. I get handed a map I don’t need. People stare in that subtle, Midwest way—trying not to look while very obviously looking. Hawkins High feels like it’s permanently holding its breath.
I catch Mike Wheeler once in English. He doesn’t look at me, but I can feel him tense when I sit two rows behind him. Like he knows I’m there. Like he wishes I wasn’t.
By the last bell, I’m tired in a way that has nothing to do with school.
I’m halfway down the front steps when someone skids to a stop in front of me.
“WAIT.”
Dustin Henderson, again.
I sigh, but it’s not annoyed. Not really. “What now?”
“Okay,” he says, breathless, hands on his knees, “I know Mike was being a jerk—he’s been like that lately, it’s a whole thing—but please don’t judge Hellfire based on him.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You’re very committed.”
“Because you’re perfect for it,” he insists. “Like, statistically.”
“I didn’t even say I wanted to join.”
“I know,” he says, nodding furiously. “But I need to know something.”
He straightens, suddenly serious.
“Do you… know how to play?”
“Kinda,” I say.
His eyes widen. “Kinda how?”
I shrug. “My cousin ran a campaign once. I played a rogue for a few months.”
His mouth drops open.
“A rogue?”
“Arcane Trickster,” I add, because apparently I can’t help myself. “I multiclassed later for utility. High Dex, dumped Strength, focused on Sleight of Hand and Perception. Sneak Attack damage scales fast if you play it right.”
He just stares at me.
“So,” I continue, “what’s the question?”
He fumbles, scrambling for one like his life depends on it. “Okay—uh—if you’re level five and facing a beholder, what do you prioritize?”
“Line of sight,” I say instantly. “You break it. Blind it if you can. And you do not cluster your party unless you want a total wipe.”
Dustin makes a sound somewhere between a gasp and a laugh.
“Oh my god,” he whispers. Then louder, “OH MY GOD.”
He grabs my shoulders—not aggressively, just overwhelmed. “You’re perfect. You’re actually perfect. Eddie is going to lose his mind.”
“I don’t know about that,” I say, smiling despite myself.
“No, you don’t understand,” he says, already backing away like he’s planning. “We need you. Like, narratively.”
From somewhere behind him, I feel it before I see it.
Mike.
He’s standing a few yards away, backpack slung over one shoulder, watching us with that same guarded expression. Except now there’s something else there too.
Interest.
Annoyed interest, but still.
Dustin follows my gaze and beams. “See? Even Mike agrees.”
Mike scowls. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to,” Dustin says cheerfully. “Your face did.”
I meet Mike’s eyes. He looks like he wants to argue—and like he doesn’t quite know how.
“Well,” I say, stepping around Dustin, “I’ll think about it.”
Dustin lights up like I just saved Christmas. “Yes!”
I try to walk away.
Genuinely. I make it maybe ten steps before I hear sneakers scuffing behind me.
“Hey—hey—wait up!”
I don’t turn around. “I already said I’d think about it.”
“That’s not a no,” Dustin says brightly, immediately matching my pace on my left. “That’s a maybe. And maybes are just yeses that need encouragement.”
On my right—annoyingly silent—I can feel him.
Mike Wheeler
He’s walking with his hands shoved into his jacket pockets, shoulders tight, like he’s pretending this isn’t happening. Like he didn’t just argue with me an hour ago. Like he doesn’t care.
Which somehow makes it worse.
“I’m going home,” I say.
“So are we,” Dustin replies. “Just… with a quick stop first.”
“Nope.”
“We’re playing tonight,” Dustin presses. “At Mike’s.”
I stop. Slowly turn to face them. “Absolutely not.”
Mike finally speaks. “You don’t have to.”
I look at him. “Wow. First reasonable thing you’ve said all day.”
His jaw tightens. “I’m serious.”
“And I’m serious too,” I say. “I just moved here. I don’t know you. I’m not going to some guy’s house to play a game.”
Dustin looks personally offended. “First of all, rude. Second of all, Mrs. Wheeler is home. Like. Always.”
Mike groans. “Dustin—”
“And third,” Dustin adds, pointing at me, “you answered that beholder question faster than I blink. You have to come.”
I hesitate. I hate that I hesitate.
“I said one hour,” I remind him.
“Yes!” Dustin pumps a fist. “Okay. Transportation.”
I blink. “Transportation?”
He points behind us.
Two bikes.
I look at them. Then at him. “I don’t have a bike.”
“No problem,” Dustin says instantly. “You can ride on the back of Mike’s.”
I laugh. “No.”
Mike stiffens. “She doesn’t have to—”
“Why not yours?” I ask Dustin.
He gestures dramatically to the bulky, duct-taped mess strapped to his bike. “Because I need the back for my science project.”
Mike squints at it. “That’s a radio.”
“It’s a prototype,” Dustin snaps, then looks back at me. “Also, there’s literally no room.”
I glance at Mike.
He avoids my eyes.
“I’m not—” I start.
“Please,” Dustin says. Not joking now. “Just tonight.”
There’s something about the way he says it—like he really means it. Like this isn’t just a game to him. Like they need this night to feel normal.
I sigh.
“Fine,” I say. “But if I die, I’m haunting both of you.”
Dustin beams. “Deal.”
Mike hands me a helmet, still not looking directly at me. “Just—uh—hold on.”
I climb onto the back of his bike. It’s closer than I expect. My knees brush his sides. His back goes rigid instantly.
“Relax,” I say lightly. “I’m not going to fall.”
“Good,” he mutters. “Because I’m not great at… catching people.”
Dustin hops on his bike and starts pedaling ahead. “Wheeler! Don’t crash the new girl!”
Mike exhales, starts the engine, and the bike lurches forward.
I grab his jacket without thinking.
He freezes for half a second—then keeps going.
The bike hums beneath us, low and steady, vibrating up through the soles of my shoes.
I hadn’t expected how close it would be.
There’s no polite distance on the back of a bike. No room for pretending. My knees press against his hips every time we hit a crack in the road, and my hands—after hovering awkwardly for a full five seconds—end up clutching the hem of his jacket.
Not his shoulders. That feels too intimate.
Mike sits rigid in front of me, spine straight like he’s afraid to move the wrong way. His shoulders are tense, pulled tight under the fabric, like he’s bracing for impact instead of just riding home.
He smells faintly like laundry detergent and cold air.
I notice stupid things. The way his hair curls slightly at the nape of his neck. The way his fingers tighten around the handlebars every time Dustin swerves ahead of us. The way he keeps glancing left, then right—checking intersections, mirrors, shadows—like he’s used to being responsible for more than just himself.
He clears his throat once.
The bike jolts suddenly over a bump, and my grip tightens without thinking. My fingers curl into his jacket, and my chest bumps lightly into his back.
He stiffens.
Not pulling away. Just… registering it.
“Sorry,” I say, instinctively.
“It’s fine,” he replies quickly. Too quickly. His voice cracks just a little at the end, like he hasn’t spoken much today.
We ride in silence after that.
I loosen my grip a little, resting my hands flatter against his sides instead of clutching the fabric. I can feel the warmth through his jacket, steady and real. His breathing evens out as the road smooths, and eventually—slowly—his shoulders drop a fraction.
Just enough for me to notice.
Dustin whoops ahead of us, pedaling harder, calling something about beating us there. Mike barely reacts, just shakes his head slightly, a fondness he doesn’t even seem aware of flickering across his face.
The bike rolls to a stop.
And when I finally let go, my hands feel cold without him.
Mike’s basement smells like dust, old carpet, and something vaguely metallic—ozone, maybe, from too many electronics plugged into one outlet.
Christmas lights snake along the ceiling, casting everything in that familiar warm glow. The folding table is already set up: dice scattered, character sheets stacked, the battle map rolled out like it’s waiting to be activated.
Dustin immediately drops his bag with the radio contraption and launches into talking at full volume.
“She knows D&D,” he announces, like he’s delivering breaking news.
From behind the DM screen, Eddie Munson looks up.
Slowly.
His eyes flick to me. Then down. Then back up again.
“Well I’ll be damned,” he says, grinning.
The basement goes quiet in that way it only does when something important is about to happen.
Dice stop clattering. Someone’s foot stops bouncing. Even the Christmas lights seem to hum softer.
Dustin is practically vibrating beside me. “Okay—okay—just sit here. You can use my backup sheet if you want, or we can make you one real quick, or—”
“I’ll make my own,” I say, already pulling a blank sheet toward me.
Mike watches from across the table, expression unreadable. Still guarded. Still skeptical. But he hasn’t told me to leave.
Yet.
I roll my shoulders, take in the map, the miniatures, the positioning. The campaign is mid-chaos—party low on spell slots, terrain working against them, stakes clearly high.
I build fast. Efficient. No wasted stats.
When I slide the sheet forward, Eddie’s brows lift.
“Interesting,” he murmurs. “Bold choice.”
“Only if you don’t know how to use it,” I reply lightly.
Dustin’s jaw drops. “Oh my god. She min-maxed.”
Mike leans forward despite himself.
The game starts again.
At first, I hang back. Let them play the way they’re used to. I watch how Dustin strategizes, how Mike tracks everyone’s health like it’s second nature, how Eddie narrates with dramatic flair.
Then things go south.
Bad roll. Enemy crit. Someone’s down to two hit points.
Mike swears under his breath. “We’re screwed.”
“Not yet,” I say.
Everyone looks at me.
I move my piece.
“I disengage, use my bonus action to cast Misty Step to higher ground,” I say calmly, already rolling. “Then I take the shot.”
The dice hit the table.
Natural. Twenty.
The room explodes.
Dustin actually shrieks. “NO WAY—”
“I’m not done,” I add, because apparently I woke up confident today. “Sneak Attack damage applies since I have advantage. And I’m targeting the caster.”
Eddie’s grin stretches wide. “Oh, I like you.”
The turn shifts.
I coordinate. I call out positioning. I tell Dustin when to hold, Mike when to push. It’s seamless—like we’ve played together for years instead of minutes.
Mike starts listening without even realizing it.
“You should flank left,” I tell him at one point.
He hesitates. “That puts me in range—”
“Trust me.”
He does.
And it works.
By the final round, the table is dead silent again. Everyone leans in as I roll the last attack. The dice clatter, spin, stop.
Hit.
Eddie slams his hands on the table. “That’s it. That’s game.”
For a second, no one moves.
Then Dustin launches out of his chair and points at me like I just solved world hunger. “SHE WON THE WHOLE THING.”
“I didn’t win it,” I say, smiling. “We did.”
Mike exhales a breath he’s been holding the entire night.
He’s staring at me now. Really staring.
Not annoyed. Not angry.
Something closer to stunned.
“That was…” he starts, then stops, shakes his head. “You’re… really good.”
It’s the first compliment he’s given me.
It lands harder than it should.
“Yeah,” I say lightly. “Kinda.”
Dustin grins so hard it looks painful. “You’re never allowed to leave.”
Mike snorts despite himself.
And when I glance back at him, there’s something different in his eyes now—less edge, less armor.
The energy in the basement lingers even after the game ends—like the air hasn’t caught up yet.
Dice are still scattered across the table. Character sheets half-folded. Someone left a mini knocked over on its side, frozen mid-battle.
Eddie stands first.
“Well,” he says, clapping his hands together once, sharp and final, “that was legendary. But I’ve gotta, uh… take care of something.” He grabs his jacket, gives me a two-finger salute. “Hellfire’s doors are officially open to you, newcomer.”
Then he’s gone—up the stairs, door closing behind him, like he was never meant to stay too long in the first place.
make a mike fanfic
yes
no
i feel like i’m the only person on tumblr that does not like byler…. mike & eleven forever over here
been on that finn wolfhard shit since the beginning but he looks EXTRA GOOD this season 😭 the pathetic wet dog look? yeah need that.
and i think that if madisyn left because of chrises commitment issues there wouldn’t be tea (since on the stream they were like they wanna know the tea) and they wouldn’t have unfollowed her EVERYWHERE and wouldve understood, and chris would not have been heartbroken from that he would’ve understood 😭😭 im pretty sure he was also with madisyn when he was rly young like in 2020-2021 so i think that was also before he was even scared because seemingly from the pics of them tg they were rllly close, he would’ve said from the start if he didn’t want all of that with her. there’s literally vids and pics of them cuddling and holding hands from 2020-2021 AND nick def wouldn’t have talked about it publicly if they didnt know for sure AND theres literally no evidence of them saying there was a misunderstanding because nick wasnt actually talking he was mouthing 😭😭 but i just had to say this because none of this is a coincidence he def was played hes talked about being heartbroken nick mouthed it on the stream and they never addressed it after its def real he def was played
THANK YOU
fuck the people who side with that hoe who dated another dude while with chris 😭😭
I been knew this just waited for y'all to get it
i also think we should chill on a girl who maybe made a mistake when she was what 15? idk strange to me nobody actually knows what happened & nobody should be rude about stuff that’s not ur business & you actually don’t know what happened. just bc that’s ur fav🤷🏻♀️
