𓍼

der flohwalzer

[miffywhispers]

from me to you . miffy ⊹ she ⊹ 21

[filmgifs]

The Tale of The Princess Kaguya (2013) dir. Isao Takahata

[pissylivvie]

phone swap — finn wolfhard x reader

synopsis: when a mutual friend calls, you pick up. but it’s not your phone, and you might have just exposed your relationship for the first time ever.

contents: fluff, secret relationship, mentions of hooking up, joking about sex, finn and gaten are bffs

notes: this is probably my favorite “things that never happened” trope

𓂃۶ৎ more below the cut!

“what do you feel like watching?” you hum out, scrolling through the catalogue of one of the many streaming services your boyfriend subscribes to.

“whatever you want is fine with me.” finn responds, which you should’ve anticipated. he makes his way to the couch and sets down your water bottle that he took the liberty of refilling for you, before emptying his pockets. he places a tube of chapstick and his phone on the coffee table next to your things, settling on the couch next to you.

you roll your eyes at that response, glancing over at him with a half-assed glare before turning your attention back to the tv. “you say that every time, then bitch about whatever i pick.”

“i’m only joking, babe. seriously, whatever you like, i like.” he defends, but the way he rubs his bottom lip with his finger to hide a smile tells you even he can’t deny it to himself.

you decide not to spark a debate, because you know that he knows you’re right, and that’s good enough. or maybe it’s because he wrapped his other arm around you to pull himself a little closer to you. you just shake your head in amusement as a small smile tugs at the corners of your own lips.

after what feels like ages of scrolling through two different catalogues, you finally settle on a movie that you’ve been meaning to get around to. you sigh and finally settle back, only for finn to jump up from the couch quickly. “wait, i need to go to the bathroom, pause it.”

“you couldn’t go when i spent 15 minutes picking a movie?” you call after him with a scoff, barely getting the last word in as you hear the bathroom door shut down the hall.

you shake your head in fond exasperation, looking at the tv screen that’s now paused on the logo of one of the companies that payrolled the movie.

the phone on the coffee table lights up, the name gaten shining across the top of the screen, paired with red and green buttons in the bottom corners waiting to decline or accept the call. you lean off the couch, picking up the phone and pressing the green button without much thought.

within the split second that your thumb makes contact with the screen, you feel your heart drop when you realize: this isn’t your phone. it’s a little heavier in your palm, and the contact picture for gaten isn’t the one you have saved. how were you supposed to know that, though? you’re sitting in a dark room, and your phones look the exact same when shut off. you even have similar cases (which finn swears is a coincidence, but you suspect otherwise). but it’s too late to do anything about it now. the screen changes to show your friend sitting in his room, and he clearly has the big light on, with how goddamn bright it is.

“hey, gaten. what’s up?” you breathe out as casually as you can. maybe if you play it cool, he won’t notice.

“oh, hey! i didn’t expect to see you here. where’s finn?” gaten says with a friendly smile when he sees you on his phone instead of his other friend.

“he’s in the bathroom. i thought this was my phone, so i picked up. but now that i think about it, you’ve only called me once in our entire lives, so i don’t know why i thought that.” you say with a short laugh, hoping to just brush over the fact that you’re at finn’s place, clearly intending to spend the night based on the oversized, faded shirt you have on.

“aw, dude, don’t say that. makes me sound like a bad friend. if it makes you feel better, i was just calling finn to ask him— wait, what are you even doing at his place?” he says, furrowing his brows at the screen. it’s like you can see his thought process on his face.

you stammer out an awkward “uhh…” as you glance toward the bathroom door, hearing the toilet flush. “we’re just hanging out.”

hanging out. right. because you’re just hanging out at finn’s place at 10pm in your pajamas.

there’s a pause in the conversation, and you’re sitting in relative silence, hearing the quiet rush of water from the bathroom sink. you feel heat creeping up the back of your neck, your heart pounding in your chest. it’s not that your relationship is strictly a secret, you guys just didn’t feel like telling anyone right away, wanting to reveal it once you were less new to the status.

gaten looks like he’s trying to decide if he should just go along with your blatant lie, but he’s never been one to do that. “hanging out, or hooking up?”

your eyes widen, and the heat from your neck rapidly spreads to your cheeks. you sit up a little on the couch, staring at his face on the screen in surprise. “no—what? we’re not hooking up, jesus christ.”

“oh, yes, because you’re just in your pajamas sitting in finn’s living room as friends and answering his phone as friends. right, of course, how could i have thought otherwise?” his voice oozes with sarcasm. you’d probably laugh if it wasn’t about you.

you sigh slightly, trying to come up with another way to dig yourself out of this hole, when the bathroom door opens and finn emerges out of the hallway.

“is that him?” gaten asks from the phone, his voice echoing through the quiet space.

finn pauses a few feet away from the couch, looking at you. “…who’s that?” as if he doesn’t know that voice anywhere.

you cringe a little as you mute your end of the call, feeling a little guilty over leaving gaten out of the conversation, but also grateful for it at the same time. it definitely doesn’t help your case to him, though.

“he called you and i thought it was my phone so i picked up. then he asked what the hell i’m doing at your place, and i said we were just hanging out, but now he thinks we’re hooking up!” you hurriedly explain to finn as he slowly makes his way over to the couch.

you ignore the sound of gaten calling for your attention in your hand, looking over at your boyfriend as he sits next to you.

“okay, why don’t we just… tell him.” finn deadpans, raising his eyebrows with a shrug at you.

your brows knit together as you look over at him. “but i thought we weren’t gonna tell anyone.”

finn sighs, pursing his lips as he nods his head to acknowledge your point, the gears turning as he mentally weighs the pros and cons. on one hand, you guys did agree not to tell anyone for a while, just to make sure you were steady in your relationship before others tried to pry. on the other hand… it’s just gaten.

“gaten’s probably one of the first people i would’ve told anyway. plus, i think i’d rather have him know we’re dating than think we’re just hooking up.” he says, looking over at you pointedly as if to say, ‘right?’

you run a hand over your face, just nodding your head in resigned agreement. “yeah, yeah. he can keep a secret.”

you move over to be closer next to finn so he’s also seen on the phone camera, unmuting your end of the call. “took you guys long enough. so, what, are you just hooking up or something?” gaten asks immediately, cutting to the chase.

finn takes the phone from you, and you watch him talk to his friend. “no, dude, uh… we’re a thing.”

silence.

“…like, dating. not just hooking up.” he adds on awkwardly, the uncomfortable silence clearly getting to him.

you see gaten’s face on the screen, blinking blankly as if the words took the scenic route to his ears. he raises his eyebrows, indicating that he’s processed the information, before clicking his tongue and nodding his head slowly.

“dude, say something.” finn says with a short laugh, running a hand through his hair nervously.

“i’m thinking, i’m thinking. let me find it.” gaten says shortly, which immediately shuts finn up. he glances over at you, the nervousness giving way to confusion in the few seconds between gaten’s sentences. “well—fucking finally, holy shit. i never thought it’d actually happen.”

your expression morphs into one of confusion and slight amusement, laughing awkwardly as you shove your head closer to finn’s so you’re in frame. “wait, what?” the two of you say at the same time.

“i said, finally. i always had a feeling something was going on between you—hell, i probably realized it before either of you did. honestly, i’m upset you’ve been keeping it a secret from me. what the hell, you guys?” gaten says with a chuckle.

you feel the both of you on the couch relax in sync, laughing to yourselves in relief. the nervousness gives way to embarrassment, shy smiles spreading on both of your faces.

“we didn’t wanna tell anyone to make sure we were, like, sure of ourselves first. you’re the first of our friends to know.”

“dude, what a bunch of bullshit.” gaten snickers, shaking his head. “you guys are just stressing yourselves out. i’ve talked to, like, three other people and they all agree that you guys just make sense with each other.”

even in your slight embarrassment, you can’t help the way that makes you feel giddy. it’s one thing to think that you and your boyfriend are a good match, but to know that other people think the same—without you even knowing—is a completely different feeling.

finn rattles off to gaten about everything he’s been keeping a secret this whole time. it’s almost as if he can’t help himself, and he doesn’t care that you’re listening. you chime in a couple of times when he conveniently leaves out an embarrassing moment, making sure that your friend gets the whole story. your plans of watching a movie and whatever question gaten was going to ask are completely forgotten, this clearly being more interesting to the three of you.

by the time the call comes to a natural end, the two of you have somehow shifted to be laying on the couch shoved close together. finn wraps an arm around you to bring you closer, also making sure you don’t fall off the edge.

“that went well.” you note with a slight smile as you tangle your legs with his.

“yeah, i don’t know why we ever thought otherwise, honestly.” he chuckles with a shake of his head, pressing his lips to your forehead briefly.

“i can’t believe he’d think we’re just hooking up. i don’t think we’d be like that with each other.” you recall. to be fair, it’s not a crazy assumption to make about two young, single friends, but the thought of anyone thinking you’re only in a halfway relationship makes you cringe.

“i know. not that i’d ever complain about it, though.” you glare at the smirk that tugs at the corners of finn’s lips as the words leave his mouth. he laughs as he wraps his arms around you tighter, pulling you closer to him as if trying to make a case without explicitly saying so.

“oh my god, no. get off of me—” you groan out with a laugh, squirming in his arms in a half-assed attempt to get away, which only makes him cling onto you tighter.

“what? cmon, baby, it’s just natural.” he says with a grin as he presses his face into the crook of your neck, effectively stopping your act of trying to get away from him.

“jesus christ, fuck you.” you huff out with a roll of your eyes.

“i’m trying!”

[blondieslover]

RANT, mike wheeler

pairing mike wheeler x cheerleader!fem!reader

summary what starts as harmless complaining spirals into teasing and bickering at lunch. when lucas crosses a line, mike wheeler surprises everyone by taking her side — request

you drop your lunchbox onto the cafeteria table harder than you mean to, the material scratching against the dingy wood.

the cafeteria smells like fries and bleach and something burnt, the kind of noise that makes your head feel louder instead of quieter.

the party is already at the seated around their unassigned-assigned table, each picking at their school lunch.

“i’m just saying,” you start, already mid-rant, words spilling out unchecked, “if coach wants us to hit a new routine every single week, maybe she shouldn’t schedule practice right after pep rally rehearsals. like my calves are actually screaming.”

you slump down onto the bench, dramatic on purpose, shoving your pom-poms deeper into your backpack with more aggression than necessary. your uniform skirt rides up a little when you sit, and you tug at it absently, irritation buzzing under your skin like static.

dustin snorts beside you; both max and will hum in vague sympathy; lucas is halfway through chewing, eyes already glittering with that look that means he’s about to say something annoying.

but mike—

mike isn’t reacting at all.

you’re facing the table, elbows braced, hands flying as you talk, so you don’t notice it right away. it’s only when your voice trails off for half a second—when you’re searching for the right word to describe how your ankles feel like they’ve been personally betrayed—that you glance up.

and mike wheeler is staring at you.

his dark curls are falling into his eyes the way they always do when he forgets to push them back, shoulders slightly hunched like he’s still growing into himself. his sweater sleeves are tugged down over his wrists, hands wrapped loosely around his untouched soda can.

your hands slow mid-gesture before you realize it.

his chin is tipped slightly forward, lips parted like he forgot to close them, eyes fixed on your face with this quiet, almost stunned focus. like you’re not complaining about cheer practice in the middle of a loud, sticky cafeteria, but doing something important. something worth memorizing.

it throws you off enough that you falter.

“—and another thing,” you finish lamely, rolling your eyes and dropping your hands to the table.

lucas swallows his bite and immediately pounces.

“wow,” he says, leaning back and folding his arms. “rough life. running around, cheering, being popular. don’t know how you survive.”

you whip your head toward him. “oh, i’m sorry—did i ask for commentary from the peanut gallery?”

“i’m just saying,” lucas shrugs, smug, “some of us have real problems. like work or math tests... or monsters.”

will winces a little. “i mean… practice still counts as work.”

you smile sympathetically at will before scoffing and tilting your head towards lucas; giving him a slow, deliberate once-over. “that’s rich coming from you.”

lucas raises a brow. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“oh, i don’t know,” you say sweetly, gesturing vaguely at him, “starting varsity, winning games, half the school knowing your name? you’re literally a popular athlete. you do not get to act like you’re above this.”

“thank you,” dustin says, pointing between the two of you. “i’ve been saying this for months.”

lucas opens his mouth, then closes it. “that’s different.”

“how?” you press. “because you wear a jersey instead of a skirt?”

there’s a beat of silence before he scoffs, shaking his head. “wow. okay.”

you lean back, arms crossing. “yeah. okay.”

“see?” he finally smirks. “energy. that’s why coach keeps you.”

you scoff, heat creeping up your neck. “you’re impossible.”

“you’re dramatic.”

“you’re lucky i’m sitting down,” you warn, already leaning forward.

and before you can fully launch yourself into the argument—before you can really dig into him—mike moves.

he straightens abruptly, chair legs screeching faintly against the floor as he turns toward lucas, lanky shoulders squared in a way that makes your stomach flip a little.

he’s all sharp lines when he stands, taller than he looks when he’s slouched at the table, jaw set beneath that familiar mop of dark hair.

“hey,” mike says, sharp. defensive. “lay off.”

lucas blinks. “what?”

“she’s allowed to complain,” mike continues, voice steady but edged with something protective. “practice sounds hard. and you’re being a jerk.”

the table goes quiet.

max’s eyebrows shoot up. “wow,” she murmurs. “did not have that on my bingo card.”

you freeze, caught halfway between annoyance and surprise, your mouth parting just slightly. you hadn’t expected that. not from mike, who usually stays quiet unless it’s about d&d or something genuinely apocalyptic.

lucas stares at him. “dude. since when do you care about cheer practice?”

mike doesn’t even look away from him. “since now.”

there’s a beat. then another.

max smirks into her drink. will fidgets nervously. dustin’s eyebrows shoot up. your chest tightens in a strange, warm way.

lucas raises his hands. “okay, okay. sorry.” he glances at you, less smug now. “didn’t mean to gang up on you.”

you huff, crossing your arms, but the edge is gone. “whatever.”

mike finally turns back toward you, and when your eyes meet, his expression softens instantly. like he’s worried he went too far. like he’s checking to see if you’re okay.

“your calves really hurt?” he asks quietly.

you nod, a little stunned. “yeah. a lot.”

he frowns, thoughtful. “you should ice them. my mom says that helps.”

the earnestness of it makes your lips twitch despite yourself.

“thanks, wheeler,” you murmur.

he ducks his head, ears going pink, but he doesn’t stop looking at you.

and this time, when he stares, you don’t mind at all.

[miffywhispers]

how this fic had me

[blondieslover]

RANT, mike wheeler

pairing mike wheeler x cheerleader!fem!reader

summary what starts as harmless complaining spirals into teasing and bickering at lunch. when lucas crosses a line, mike wheeler surprises everyone by taking her side — request

you drop your lunchbox onto the cafeteria table harder than you mean to, the material scratching against the dingy wood.

the cafeteria smells like fries and bleach and something burnt, the kind of noise that makes your head feel louder instead of quieter.

the party is already at the seated around their unassigned-assigned table, each picking at their school lunch.

“i’m just saying,” you start, already mid-rant, words spilling out unchecked, “if coach wants us to hit a new routine every single week, maybe she shouldn’t schedule practice right after pep rally rehearsals. like my calves are actually screaming.”

you slump down onto the bench, dramatic on purpose, shoving your pom-poms deeper into your backpack with more aggression than necessary. your uniform skirt rides up a little when you sit, and you tug at it absently, irritation buzzing under your skin like static.

dustin snorts beside you; both max and will hum in vague sympathy; lucas is halfway through chewing, eyes already glittering with that look that means he’s about to say something annoying.

but mike—

mike isn’t reacting at all.

you’re facing the table, elbows braced, hands flying as you talk, so you don’t notice it right away. it’s only when your voice trails off for half a second—when you’re searching for the right word to describe how your ankles feel like they’ve been personally betrayed—that you glance up.

and mike wheeler is staring at you.

his dark curls are falling into his eyes the way they always do when he forgets to push them back, shoulders slightly hunched like he’s still growing into himself. his sweater sleeves are tugged down over his wrists, hands wrapped loosely around his untouched soda can.

your hands slow mid-gesture before you realize it.

his chin is tipped slightly forward, lips parted like he forgot to close them, eyes fixed on your face with this quiet, almost stunned focus. like you’re not complaining about cheer practice in the middle of a loud, sticky cafeteria, but doing something important. something worth memorizing.

it throws you off enough that you falter.

“—and another thing,” you finish lamely, rolling your eyes and dropping your hands to the table.

lucas swallows his bite and immediately pounces.

“wow,” he says, leaning back and folding his arms. “rough life. running around, cheering, being popular. don’t know how you survive.”

you whip your head toward him. “oh, i’m sorry—did i ask for commentary from the peanut gallery?”

“i’m just saying,” lucas shrugs, smug, “some of us have real problems. like work or math tests... or monsters.”

will winces a little. “i mean… practice still counts as work.”

you smile sympathetically at will before scoffing and tilting your head towards lucas; giving him a slow, deliberate once-over. “that’s rich coming from you.”

lucas raises a brow. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“oh, i don’t know,” you say sweetly, gesturing vaguely at him, “starting varsity, winning games, half the school knowing your name? you’re literally a popular athlete. you do not get to act like you’re above this.”

“thank you,” dustin says, pointing between the two of you. “i’ve been saying this for months.”

lucas opens his mouth, then closes it. “that’s different.”

“how?” you press. “because you wear a jersey instead of a skirt?”

there’s a beat of silence before he scoffs, shaking his head. “wow. okay.”

you lean back, arms crossing. “yeah. okay.”

“see?” he finally smirks. “energy. that’s why coach keeps you.”

you scoff, heat creeping up your neck. “you’re impossible.”

“you’re dramatic.”

“you’re lucky i’m sitting down,” you warn, already leaning forward.

and before you can fully launch yourself into the argument—before you can really dig into him—mike moves.

he straightens abruptly, chair legs screeching faintly against the floor as he turns toward lucas, lanky shoulders squared in a way that makes your stomach flip a little.

he’s all sharp lines when he stands, taller than he looks when he’s slouched at the table, jaw set beneath that familiar mop of dark hair.

“hey,” mike says, sharp. defensive. “lay off.”

lucas blinks. “what?”

“she’s allowed to complain,” mike continues, voice steady but edged with something protective. “practice sounds hard. and you’re being a jerk.”

the table goes quiet.

max’s eyebrows shoot up. “wow,” she murmurs. “did not have that on my bingo card.”

you freeze, caught halfway between annoyance and surprise, your mouth parting just slightly. you hadn’t expected that. not from mike, who usually stays quiet unless it’s about d&d or something genuinely apocalyptic.

lucas stares at him. “dude. since when do you care about cheer practice?”

mike doesn’t even look away from him. “since now.”

there’s a beat. then another.

max smirks into her drink. will fidgets nervously. dustin’s eyebrows shoot up. your chest tightens in a strange, warm way.

lucas raises his hands. “okay, okay. sorry.” he glances at you, less smug now. “didn’t mean to gang up on you.”

you huff, crossing your arms, but the edge is gone. “whatever.”

mike finally turns back toward you, and when your eyes meet, his expression softens instantly. like he’s worried he went too far. like he’s checking to see if you’re okay.

“your calves really hurt?” he asks quietly.

you nod, a little stunned. “yeah. a lot.”

he frowns, thoughtful. “you should ice them. my mom says that helps.”

the earnestness of it makes your lips twitch despite yourself.

“thanks, wheeler,” you murmur.

he ducks his head, ears going pink, but he doesn’t stop looking at you.

and this time, when he stares, you don’t mind at all.

[autvmnangels]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ DIRTY LITTLE SECRET (P3)

| mike makes a pathetically cute attempt to win you back.

it had been a week since your fight with mike, and as far as apologies went he had made no attempt to make one. no calls, no silly notes in your locker like he always used to, and no scaling up the walls to your bedroom window. you missed him, but you knew it was for the better. he couldn’t give you what you wanted, and you were going to have to live with that.

you were sat on your bed, lying flat on your stomach with a baby pink nail polish next to you as you inattentively brushed it over your index finger, your discarded homework sat next to you.

you heard a knock on your door, your head snapping up to see your brother, steve, standing there looking like he had something to say. he always looked that way, annoyingly.

“what?” you said, tilting your head slightly at him as you added a second coat of nail polish to your finger, your eyes flickering up to him briefly as he stepped inside your room without a word.

“can we talk? no– that’s not a question. we’re gonna talk.” he said, his voice stern as he grabbed the chair from your dressing table and spun it around in his direction before sitting down on it, his eyes on the floor as you let out a little scoff.

“if this is about mike, we’re over steve. i don’t wanna hear it.” you mumbled, watching as realisation washed over his face.

“oh.” he said, scratching the back of his neck.

“oh.” you mocked, running a hand through your hair as he nodded, awkwardly looking at the floor.

there was a moment of silence, and as the seconds ticked by so did your patience with your brother. if he had a point to make it was about time he made it.

“and why is that?” he asked, rising from the chair and walking over to your bed as you rose from your previous position until you were sat on your bed with your knees against your chest, steve next to you.

“he didn’t want me. not the way i wanted him, anyway.” you said, watching as steve crossed his arms over his chest, a faint “jesus” slipping from his mouth.

“im sorry. about mike.” he said, clearing his throat as you looked at him with narrowed eyes, before eventually softening them when you noticed he wasn’t trying to be a dick.

“im not, so you shouldn’t be.” you said briefly, giving him a little smile as he raised his eyebrows, his head tilted slightly.

you shrugged, your eyes watering slightly as you remembered the exchange between you and mike.

“he’s a douche bag anyway. you know- i always found him to be kind of a prick. he never seemed to like me no matter what i did. i saved him from evil russians and i get no thanks whatsoever. i prefer his sister.” steve babbled as you giggled, reaching forward and ruffling his hair.

“thanks. what were you here for anyway?” you asked him as he looked at his feet, shrugging.

“i mean, i was going to apologise for being so uptight last week with mike being here. i was gonna tell you that it’s fine for him to be over and stuff, but i guess he won’t be back anyway.” he began, your lips curving into a smile as he spoke.

“i also wanted to say- i know your not a kid anymore, but i still can’t help seeing you as your fourteen year old self almost loosing your life to the mind flayer. since then, after almost loosing you- i couldn’t not be overprotective. but it’s done now. you can do what you want, harrington. but no acid until your at least 21.” he finished, his last sentence leaving you laughing as leaned forward and hugged him.

once you broke apart, he stood up and gestured towards your cd player in the corner of the room.

“you get new music? sweet choice. africa by toto’s one of the greats.” he said, his hands on his hips and his words leaving your brows furrowing.

“huh?” you said, your head clouding with confusion as he pointed at your cd player yet again.

“africa. toto. the song? it’s playing from your cd player?” steve said, watching in equal confusion as you shook your head at him, rising from your bed.

“i don’t have any toto cd’s. that’s not coming from the cd player.” you said, the sound of the song playing sounding awfully like it was coming from your bedroom window.

steve walked towards the window, pulling the lace curtains with furrowed brows as you watched his eyes instantly widen at the scene below him.

“oh, fuck me.” he mumbled, cracking the window, the song getting increasingly louder as your brother turned around at you, an expression of annoyance on his face. “come look at this, y/n.”

“what, steve?” you said, rolling your eyes as you hopped off your bed, walking over to the window where he was stood, the cool nights breeze washing over you as your mouth fell open at the sight below you.

mike wheeler, cd player in hand blasting the chorus of africa with a bouquet of flowers in the other.

you found yourself biting back a laugh of pity at the sight of him, eyes desperate and cheeks red from the cold. steve took a step back from the window, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“mike, what are you doing! it’s 10pm!” you hissed, pointing at your watch on your wrist as he shook his head at you.

“y/n, im sorry, okay?! i do want you. like so much- it’s actually hurts. this past week, i haven’t stopped thinking about you. what you said. because it made me realise that i really don’t care about what other people might say about us—might say to me about us, because it’s worth it that id get to call you mine.” he blurted out, placing the flowers on the floor as he held the cd player in both hands above his head just as the chorus of the song began again.

“it’s gonna take a lot to drag me away from you!–” he sang along terribly before you began shushing him through your giggles for the sake of the neighbours who were probably peacefully sleeping.

“mike, shut up! just come up here, you idiot.” you said, turning around to see steve looking completely out of it as he shook his head, a low “mother of god” falling from his mouth as he quickly left your room, only fuelling your laughs.

you watched in amusement as mike climbed up the vines on your house up to your room, your hands cracking open the window wide enough for him to step inside once he had reached the top.

you grabbed his hand, pulling him inside as he stumbled into your room, almost falling flat on his face as he handed you the crumpled tulips with a wide grin on his face.

“hey.” he said quickly, trying to sound smooth as he ran a hand through his hair as you scoffed at him.

“hi, wheeler.” you said back to him, picking a leaf off his shoulder as he looked at you with nothing but desperation in his eyes.

“y/n. im so sorry, i really am. i keep replaying what i said to you in my head, and god i was such an asshole to you. please forgive me. please.” he practically whined at you as you grabbed one of his hands, holding it in your own as you looked at him with a smile.

“it’s ok, mike. i forgive you. just don’t talk to me like that again, ok?” you said, tilting your head at him with a brief serious expression and crossed arms as he nodded frantically at you.

“yes ma’am.” he slurred, his eyes too focused on your lips as his hands slid onto your waist and pulled your body closer to his, your hand sliding into his hair as your lips met.

the kiss was short and sweet, but enough to tell you how much he really wanted you, and how he wasn’t going to pretend the two of you were nothing anymore.

“so, how about it, sweetheart?” he mumbled as he broke away from you, his forehead still touching yours as your brows furrowed.

“how about what?” you said as he shrugged, walking backwards towards your bed and pulling your arms with him until the two of you were laying on your bed with your head rested against his chest and his body propped up against your heart shaped pillows.

“can i be your boyfriend, harrington?” he asked, your heart beating faster as you looked up at him, biting your lip slightly as you nodded at him, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“whatever you want, wheeler.” you said, nuzzling back into him as you felt his chest heave a sigh of relief, his hand instantly finding its way into your hair as you closed your eyes, a soft smile on your face.

if there was one thing you knew for sure, it was that harrington’s always get what they want.

[autvmnangels]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ HUMAN ANATOMY

| steve tries to embarrass both you and mike when he meets your parents for the first time (harrington!reader)

you sat anxiously at your vanity, brushing makeup over your face as you stared back at your reflection, heart practically jumping out of your chest. tonight, your boyfriend, mike was coming over to meet your parents for the first time over some sort of meal your mother was cooking up in the kitchen. there were nerves about that, your mother and father approving of him, but there was one person in particular you were more worried about.

steve, to be quite frank.

steve was your older brother, and the king of hawkins high in his day. you were viewed of something as a successor to him, your features and charming personality perfectly mirroring his so well any teacher could guess with a long sigh and a pinch of the nose bridge that the two of you were siblings. the only thing different however was the grades, which left a lot of teachers surprised when correcting your exams.

despite being so similar, you and steve didnt exactly see eye to eye. in terms of mike wheeler, that was.

for some reason, whenever mike and steve were within a two meter distance of each other, the two would start fighting like cats. snapping insults back and forth at each other, flipping one another off, sometimes even becoming physical with harsh nudges to ribs or a deliberate foot sticking out as the other walked by.

you couldnt figure out why exactly steve hated mike so much, but you assumed it was to do with the fact that steve believed he had full authority over you, and could choose who was and wasnt good enough for his baby sister.

in steve's eyes, mike was some sort of punk who had nothing but erotic intentions when it came to sweet y/n harrington, and he had to do everything in his power to stop mike from following through with these intentions.

you were particularly nervous about steve because you knew he wouldnt be civil with mike, and therefore mike wouldnt be civil with him. -and if you knew anything about your boyfriend, it was that he was going to match the energy he was receiving.

"coming!" you yelled from your room, the sound of your mother's voice calling your name snapping you out of your thoughts. you left your room, walking down the stairs to find both of your parents lingering by the door. god, was he really here already?

"steve! get over here now and greet this boy!" your mother whisper-yelled, steve turning around from his position on the sofa, giving you a look that told you he'd rather do anything else. you gave him a serious look, your nose almost twitching as he rolled his eyes and rose from the couch, walking toward you and standing next to you with crossed arms.

"if your rude to him, ill fucking kill you." you whispered, just as a knock on the door sounded, giving steve no time to even scoff or respond to your words. your mother opened the door, revealing a cold looking mike with red cheeks and bouquet of flowers in one hand.

your mother and father greeted him, mike giving you a smile and a thumbs up from his side only you were meant to see when he handed the flowers to your mother and revealed they were for her. "nice touch, wheeler" you thought, a smile on your lips as you heard a faint "jesus" fall from steve's mouth.

"honey, he's handsome!" your mother whispered as you shushed her quickly, her arms leading you into the kitchen, leaving steve and mike behind in silence.

"listen, man. i need to make a good impression tonight, yeah? dont fuck this up for me." mike said, arms crossed over his chest as steve ran a hand through his hair, an expression of annoyance on his face.

"yeah, whatever wheeler. but seriously, flowers for my mom?" steve scoffed, leaving mike furrowing his brows, his head tilted slightly.

"and what about it, harrington? pissed you didnt think of it when you met my mom? oh, and how long was your relationship with my sister again? was it....five, six months?" mike said, steve's mouth slightly open as he searched for something to say.

"you slick little fuck." he seethed under his breath, his blood practically boiling as mike gave him a wink before following after you into the kitchen to the dining table.

you made sure mike was sat next to you when you all sat down to eat, and absolutely nowhere near steve. you had the two of them on completely opposite ends of the table, to be frank, way out of kicking distance from one another.

like you predicted, your mom began interogating mike as the five of you ate, asking him who he hung out with, how his grades were, what he wanted to be when he was older, and you managed to witness every time steve rolled his eyes when mike gave a perfect, almost satisfying answer to every question your parents asked.

you found yourself blushing at how good he was at this. he knew exactly what to say, and could even throw in a few jokes to get your father laughing too. you just knew steve was loosing his mind on the other end of the table.

there was a moment of silence once your father had finished up talking to mike about something to do with mike's father being a golfer, where steve finally decided to make his dinner conversation debut, much to your dismay.

"mike's really smart too, right y/n? he tutors half the kids in your grade." steve said, your brows furrowing suspiciously as you nodded slowly, your eyes narrowing at your brother.

"oh wow, what subjects?" your mother asked curiously, dropping her fork to listen to mike as he cleared his throat, his gaze swapping between you and steve as he anticipated some sort of punchline to steve's statement.

"uh- math, chemistry, physics and biology." he answered, looking at you with a shit eating grin and raised brows as your mother and father exhanged a glance of approval.

"dork." you mumbled, giving him an affectionate nudge as steve on the other hand prepared to make another statement.

"yeah, your particularly good at that biology stuff, right mike?" steve said, his voice laced with fake interest and curiosity as mike nodded, however his dark brown eyes were looming on steve as if trying to warn him not to say whatever he was planning to next.

"you do that stuff with y/n, dont you?" steve said, leaning back in his chair as your head snapped in his direction.

"overheard you guys on tuesday. and monday. and friday. i think it was– human anatomy, right?” steve said, and by now, you and mike were slowly looking at each other, back at steve who was looking as smug as ever, and then at your parents who were thankfully oblivious.

mike had not been tutoring you on tuesday, monday or friday. he had been fucking you into your headboard for a solid hour while the two of you believed you could be as loud as you wanted. however, you were thoroughly mistaken regarding the idea that the two of you were home alone.

“fuck me.” mike whispered under his breath, only loud enough for you to hear as you gripped his hand under the table, the two of you glaring at steve as mike picked up his glass off the table, bringing it to his lips.

“that’s good news. glad to know your helping our daughter stay on top of her work.” your father said, mike nodding in response as he drank some of the water in his cup.

“not the only thing he has her on top of.” steve mumbled, leaving mike choking on the water he was currently drinking, and your face turning completely red as you held your head in your hands.

“what was that, honey?” your mother said, looking toward steve as he shrugged, a smug expression on his face as mike wiped his mouth, his brown eyes glaring at steve intensely as you bit down on your bottom lip, with your eyes screwed shut.

dinner ended shortly after that, and you ended up in the kitchen helping your mom and dad wash up as mike and steve were left alone in the living room together.

the second they knew they were alone, the two of them turned to each other, mike leaning forward with nothing but rage plastered on his face.

“seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you?” mike spat, leaving steve to scoff, running a hand through his hair as the older man almost laughed.

“you brought that on yourself, wheeler.” he shrugged, mike’s knuckles practically turning white as he stared at steve.

“and you brought it up at a fucking dinner table with your parents there, harrington.” mike scoffed, rolling his eyes as he slumped back in the armchair he was sat in.

“ok, wheeler. sorry for calling you out over doing that in my house to my little sister with me in the next room. you have my utmost love and respect.” steve seethed sarcastically, leaving mike sitting up once again out of complete disbelief.

“are you kidding me? we’re eighteen, steve! eighteen year olds fuck, ok? she’s not a fucking child.” mike said, his words leaving steve with his head in his hands as he groaned.

“grow up. fucking payback for when i had to witness you sneaking through nancy’s window every goddamn night.” he continued, steve genuinely looking at him in utter shock.

“god, what is wrong with you? why did it have to be you? honestly, i would’ve been ok with sinclair– henderson, even. even that creep who works at the radio shack.” steve mumbled, leaving mike furrowing his brows.

“dude, that guy at the radio shack asked me “how much for one night with her” with y/n stood right next to me when i was trying to pay for the goonies last week. could’ve been much worse for you.” mike shrugged, watching in amusement as steve’s head snapped up in his direction.

“is that a joke? god wheeler, you better have slapped the shit out of him.” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose as mike ran a hand through his hair.

“lucas and i figured out what days he works on and what time he gets off at, and apparently he’s been weird to max as well. we’ve got a slingshot, a lot of sharp rocks, and plans for saturday night at 9pm. i’ll leave that up to interpretation.” mike said, a smile creeping onto his face as steve let out a light laugh.

“guess it could’ve been worse.” he shrugged, mike tilting his head at steve with a little smirk in response to his words.

“am i dreaming or was that a compliment, harrington?” he said, watching as steve let out a scoff, something of a smile lingering on his face.

“don’t get too ahead of yourself, wheeler.” he mumbled, his head turning around to find you stood in the doorway, a little smile on your face as your gaze hopped from mike to steve.

“am i crazy, or are you two actually smiling around one another?” you said, walking over to the armchair mike was sat on and leaning against the side of it.

“nope.” the two boys said in unison, leaving you to scoff and roll your eyes in response to the two boys.

[latte113]

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.”

“Oh”

“Yeah”

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.

“Huh?”

“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.”

“Oh”

“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! (?)

[autvmnangels]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ ENEMIES

| your boyfriend and your brother get into yet another silly argument over you at the squawk (harrington!reader).

it was a quiet night at the squawk, most of the party preparing for the crawl or talking to one another while loading guns and throwing on gear. you were sat next to mike, your knees bunched up against your chest and your head resting against his shoulder. he was messing around with a flashlight that was attached to his belt, with his other hand resting on your knee.

“you okay?” he asked you, his tone soft and welcoming as you nodded, looking toward him with a little smile. to be perfectly honest, you weren’t feeling the best. on top of at least ten missing assignments, your evenings and nights were now occupied by sitting at the squawk or camping out at the mac-z with mike and lucas with nothing to entertain yourself except for a pair of binoculars.

he kissed your forehead, his arm that was rested on your knee now sliding over your shoulder, pulling you further into him. just as you were about to shut your eyes, you heard someone clear their throat, your brother, steve, now plopping himself down on the chair in front of you and mike.

you gave steve a look, before turning to mike to see that he was mirroring your exact expression. if there was anyone who hated your brother, it was mike. and if there was anyone who hated your boyfriend, it was steve.

“did you need something, harrington?” mike asked, furrowing his brows at steve as you watched your brother tense up. oh boy.

“no, i didn’t. do i need your permission to sit down, wheeler?” he snapped back, a sigh leaving your lips as mike sat up suddenly, your body almost slipping down into his lap.

“dude, did you seriously just come here to do this? really?” mike said, rolling his eyes as steve tilted his head at him, an expression of disgust on his face.

“oh im sorry, can i not sit in proximity of my sister anymore without being snapped at by her stupid boyfriend?” steve said, his words leaving you pinching your nose bridge as robin gave you a look of pity from across the room.

“your so immature it’s actually funny. it amazes me everytime i remember your her brother.” mike said, gesturing to you as you gave him a look.

by now, jonathan, robin, nancy, lucas and will were all looking at the scene unfold before them. at the beginning of mike and steve’s hatred for one another, you did try to intervene along with many others, but the more it happened the more you realised it was best to just let them go off at one another.

“well sorry im not thrilled she chose you of all people.” steve said, his voice low as he scratched the back of his neck, mike instantly tensing up again.

“ok, now your just being an asshole. this isn’t even about y/n anymore.” he said, rolling his eyes as steve shrugged, running a hand through his hair.

“was it ever about y/n?” steve mumbled, looking away.

“the two of you, stop it! this is so embarrassing!” you hissed, your head in your hands as you let out an aggravated groan, the two boys completely ignoring you.

“so you actually do just hate me, that’s what your trying to say? not because im fucking your little sister or anything-” mike barked at him, before you lunged at him and slapped your hand over his mouth, everyone in the room now looking at the three of you.

“mike! what the fuck?” you hissed, removing your hand from him mouth as he shrugged at you.

most people found it amusing how steve and mike fought, for example, will, lucas, and jonathan were both in the corner giggling away, while nancy and robin looked on in genuine shock. there was a lot of mixed feelings in the party about how healthy it was to let the two of them continue to fight like cats.

“god, why would you ever say that to me?” steve said, his head in his hands as you cringed, your cheeks red.

“not my fault you have your head so far up your ass you can’t understand what two people in a relationship tend to do sometimes, steve.” mike mumbled, looking away as your hand slapped your head, a groan emitting from your mouth.

“i will never, understand why you had to do this to me, y/n.” steve said, looking at you with eyes like a kicked puppy as mike scoffed next to you.

“grow up.” he seethed, his hand pulling down the collar of his sweater to scratch his neck, or so you thought.

it wasn’t until you saw steve’s face drop and loose all colour that you realised what mike had done. sadly, it was a little too late for you to grab mike’s arm to stop him from showing your brother the purple marks you had left on his skin the night before. great.

“your vile, wheeler. vile!” steve said, rising from his chair as he walked away, visibly distraught as mike gave him a little wave, a stupid smile on his face as you elbowed him harshly in the ribs.

“ow! hey, m’sorry, ok? it had to be done.” he said, trying to make you less mad by giving you the infamous puppy eyes he knew you could never stay mad at, but unfortunately he had dug himself too deep for you to easily forgive him.

“it did not, have to be done.” you said, shrugging his arm off you as you stood up, walking away toward robin and nancy, leaving him alone on the couch as he called after you.

“i’ll talk to him soon. he can suffer for now.” you said, the two girls in front of you letting out huffs of amusement as you turned your head to the sound of hysteric laughter coming from will, lucas and dustin at mike looking full of sorrow on the couch. serves him right.

[miffywhispers]

now this what i LIKE 🙂‍↔️🙂‍↔️🙂‍↔️

[lamignonette]

[miffywhispers]

dare i say we need part three to ‘i got my mind set on you’ 😇

ur RIGHT !!!!!!

sorry for being gone guys my bf of two years broke up with me and im lowkey going 2 explode xx but i just watched the finale soooooo WE UP

[miffywhispers]

i ❤️ your i got my mind set on you mike fic i am so excited for part 2

thank u sm !!! i just posted part 2 lololol. took a lil long bc ive been rlly busy AND i was so worried since part one was doing so well that part 2 would end up being shit and balls like i needed to make it so good <\333

[miffywhispers]

💌 and this time i know its real ! sober mike wheeler doesn’t remember what exactly he drunkenly confessed to you and is too embarrassed to talk to you about it. you however, are determined to get a sober confession out of him.

this is part 2 of ‘i got my mind set on you’, read part 1 here !

miffy’s notes | fem!reader. mike and reader are in uni! emetophobia warning (just like 3 mentions from the previous night) tooth rotting fluff ur teeth r gonna hurt just by reading this. a lil angsty but not tew much. miscommunication trope lolololol. lowercase intended. thank u angels for sm love on part 1! sry for taking sooo long w part 2!!!

“i’m never fucking drinking again.” mike groaned into his pillow, the insistent pounding in his head was enough to drive him mad. he rolled over, wincing at the bright morning sunlight that pooled into his room.

once his eyes adjusted to the brightness he attempted to get up. his entire body ached so terribly that he considered just staying in bed and sleeping the entire day away - and if he didn’t have the driest throat imaginable and the desperate need to pee; he just might have.

mike sluggishly heaved himself out of bed and went to the bathroom, opening up the tap and bending down to drink straight from it. as he did this, little pieces of last night slowly started to come back to him.

got to the party. drank. looked for y/n. drank again. looked for y/n. drank more. drank alot more. threw up? threw up in a bush? y/n was there. y/n helped me. y/n took me home? hold on-

he splashed his face with water and sighed, how could he forget? god he was so fucking embarrassed. he groaned, holding his head in his hands in pure frustration. it was bad enough that he made an entire fool out of himself in front of you by getting that drunk, he also couldn’t remember a damn thing that he said to you. all he remembers is that he said a lot. a whole lot.

it felt like the universe was punishing him. the whole situation was genuinely a fucking nightmare. this was supposed to be his fresh start, his chance to make a proper good first impression on you. his chance to get to know you. and he blew it by getting blackout piss drunk and throwing up in a bush like an idiot. the fact that it was you that helped him and he can’t even remember what he said to you felt like the universe was giving him the finger and slapping him in the face over and over again.

knock knock knock.

the sound of knocking against mike’s room door startled him. he huffed, sluggishly dragging himself over to the front door. he leaned forward against the door, looking through the peephole.

mike froze. you were standing there, rocking back and forth on your heels as you waited for him to open the door.

he stayed still. there was no fucking way he was opening the door for you. what were you doing there anyways? he was far too embarrassed to face you, far too nervous to hear what it is you had to say. he prayed that you hadn’t just heard him shuffling to the door and would just assume he wasn’t home and leave. he felt bad, but the embarrassment he felt outweighed the guilt.

and you did eventually leave, mike exhaling a breath of relief as he watched your figure walk down the hall before he couldn’t see you through the peephole anymore.

what he didn’t see though, was the sigh that left your lips and the pout that followed as you walked away.

⚘

mike wheeler was avoiding you like the damn plague.

a week had gone by since that night. a week of you trying to talk to mike and get his attention, and failing. you thought it was weird when you’d waved at him from across the hall and he hadn’t waved back, ‘maybe he just didn’t realise it was you’ you’d thought. then you thought maybe he just didn’t see you, or thought you were trying to get the attention of someone else.

but you’d realised that wasn’t the case when you’d caught him staring at you when you’d been walking with your friends to your next lecture, eyes widening before quickly looking away when you’d caught him.

you huffed. that confirmed that he did know who you were and was avoiding you.

but why?

you were honestly a little tired of it, you weren’t sure at all what was going on or what warranted mike’s weird behaviour. and, it made you pretty sad. you still had a crush on the guy, you thought after that night you’d have reason to start talking and maybe become friends.

you also thought (hoped) that there was a chance that his drunken confession was true.

but you were stubborn, and you were determined to speak to him. so you told your friends to save you a seat and ran over to mike, startling him when you suddenly appeared in front of him. he froze, staring at you like a deer in the headlights.

“mike. hey. i’ve been trying to talk to you all week i-“

“okay i didn’t mean what i said that night. i’m sorry.” mike interrupted. you blinked, replaying his words in your head. you were confused.

“what?”

“i said i’m really sorry. i didn’t mean what i said. i’m sorry for hurting you. i was really drunk,”

you scoffed. you’d expected this conversation to go much differently, and maybe that was why you felt your cheeks heat up as the humiliation burned through your body. you were right. you shouldn’t have gotten your hopes up. he was drunk, why’d you even think for a second that he was being truthful?

the realisation made you want to cry. you knew it was silly, you knew you were acting rather emotionally for something that shouldn’t have meant so much. but it did. it did and it stung. and you felt the emotions pouring out of you quicker than you could think.

“i get that you were really drunk mike but seriously? you didn’t mean what you-“ you paused, having to swallow down the lump that was caught in your throat before continuing, “what you said? you didn’t mean it at all? none of it?” your voice was quivering and your eyes stung. you turned your head away, quickly wiping the tears away from your eyes before they could spill down your cheeks.

when you turned back, mike was looking at you with a pained expression. you turned away again. and suddenly the absurdity of the situation hit you. you barely even knew him and you had some one sided crush on him since elementary school. of course you were going to take his drunken confession to heart, you wanted it to be true so badly.

“whatever mike. you don’t have to avoid me anymore. i don’t wanna see you either.” you knew how awfully mean you sounded, but you didn’t care right now. the humiliation made you dizzy. you needed to get away from mike right now. you turned around and left as quickly as you could, before mike could get another word in.

mike watched you leave, confused. he felt terrible. and he wasn’t even sure what he felt terrible for. was what he said really that bad? he groaned in frustration, eyes on your fleeting figure. there was a dull ache in his chest once you were out of sight.

there went his chance of ever getting to know you.

⚘

“and then she just started crying. like really crying. her lips were quivering and shit man i felt terrible.”

your reaction earlier had confused mike, so much so that he’d ran to the dorms to get to the phone in the hallway. he needed to call one of his friends to talk about the situation, he really wasn’t sure what to do.

there was a long silence after mike spoke, and he heard lucas sigh. an exasperated sigh that immediately let mike wheeler know he was in the wrong.

he just wasn’t sure how yet.

“mike. have you ever considered that maybe you said something nice to her when you were drunk. like maybe you told her she was really pretty or something i don’t know man.”

mike furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “and so?” he asked, lucas groaned, “so? seriously man? mike are you drunk again? okay uh imagine this. y/n calls you handsome or tells you she likes you when she’s drunk. then the next day when she’s sober she says oh sorry i actually didn’t mean it that all. how would you feel?”

mike blinked. how the fuck had he not even considered that?

“oh fuck man. you’re right. i don’t know what to do now.”

“you’re gonna go and find her and apologise and tell her you can’t remember what you said. and then you are going to ask her what you said. then you proceed from there. jesus man you drink for one night and suddenly you’re the dumbest man alive,” lucas explained, mike ignoring his last sentence.

“okay. i’ll do that yeah. thanks alot man.” thanked mike, the two exchanging goodbyes before he put the phone down.

he stood in silence, biting his bottom lip anxiously. would you even want to speak to him?

⚘

a little later mike had driven to the store that was a few minutes away from campus. he’d stood in one of the queues, bag of chips in hand, waiting to check out.

he’d scanned the other lines, thinking he probably should’ve picked a different one - this one was going quite slow.

that’s when he’d caught you, you were checking out at one of the other tills.

“hey y/n?” he called out, and you turned around to see who was calling your name, your eyes scanning the store until they landed on his.

you spun around immediately, and mike ran to set the chips back down. “hey y/n wait, hold on!” he called out across the store, gaining the attention of a few of the other customers who gave him annoyed looks. you ignored him, picking up your pace and exiting the store as he ran out after you.

“y/n please. wait,” you exhaled deeply - you were nearly about to round the corner where you’d probably have lost him, but you stopped and waited for him to catch up.

when he did, he was quiet again. he realised he didn’t actually know what to say, or how to start atleast. he’d seen you and he’d panicked, figuring you’d probably be avoiding him after what happened earlier and that this was his chance.

“hey. uh. where’s your car parked?” he asked. you didn’t look at him, tugging your zip up closer to your body. “my car’s at the shop so i walked.” you replied flatly.

“can i take you back to campus? it’s cold and its’s getting dark already, i wouldn’t feel good if i’d left you here alone.” mike said. you scoffed, not looking at him. he wanted to sink down into a hole, he hated this. he hated how upset you were with him. he hated how he’d never even seen you this upset before and that it was him that caused it.

you didn’t answer and he tried again, “please? and if you’ll allow me i wanna talk about yeste-“

“if you’re just gonna tell me that you’re sorry again then i don’t wanna hear it mike.” you snapped, cutting him off. mike felt his stomach churn again hearing the way you spoke to him like his name left a bitter taste on your tongue.

“no hold on. please. give me a chance, just hear me out,” mike pleaded, jogging to his car and opening the passenger seat door for you. mike looked at you, eyes pleading. a few moments passed before you gave in with a huff, climbing into his car wordlessly. you set the plastic shopping bag near your feet and pulled the door closed before mike could close it for you - a little petty, but you were upset.

mike felt the tiniest bit of relief when you got into the car. he ran over to his side, taking a deep breath before getting into the car and driving off.

the drive was silent for a good few minutes. you had your back to mike, facing the passenger seat window. he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye every few moments, he was nervous. if he wasn’t driving his leg would’ve been bouncing.

“can i talk?” mike asked, swallowing.

“yes.” you replied, quicker than mike had expected. he took a deep breath, trying to psych himself up for what he was about to say.

“y/n i have to confess i. i can’t remember what i said. i can’t remember a single word i said to you that night. and i know it’s probably super hard to believe and you’re really upset with me right now but i genuinely have like zero memory of it at all. i was scared to talk to you because i was embarrassed, and when you spoke to me yesterday i just panicked. i figured i should just apologise incase i said something weird or stupid. i really like you y/n, i didn’t wanna ruin my chances even more than i did with whatever the fuck i said that night.” mike explained, out of breath by the time he finished because of how quickly every word came rushing out of his mouth.

you were both silent for a while, mike’s stomach churning with every second that passed as he waited for you to say something. his hands were sweating and gripping the steering wheel so tightly that he was sure they’d cramp up soon.

finally, after a minute that felt like a decade, you broke the silence, “that’s what you said to me.”

mike blinked, confused.

“what?”

“i really like you y/n. that’s what you told me that night.” you said, and mike felt another rush of relief when he heard how your tone had changed. not bitter and angry, but soft and sincere.

“oh.” he swallowed. mike thought he’d be embarrassed to hear this, thought he’d want the ground to open up and swallow him whole. but all he felt was a burning curiosity that bloomed in his chest.

“and what did you say?” he asked, although he felt like he already knew the answer.

“that i like you too.”

the relief that washed over mike wheeler was instant, the knots in his stomach dissipating. he immediately felt a little dizzy, head buzzing and hands tingling against the steering wheel. he replayed your words over and over in his head until he felt sick.

mike finally spoke up when he realised he’d gone quiet for far too long, “oh. i’m uh, i’m glad. i’m glad you feel uh. you feel like, the same. y/n i think i need to pull over right now i’m a little, i don’t know. i didn’t expect you to say that.” mike tumbled over his words again, scanning the road in a bit of a panic for somewhere to pull over and park. he spotted a restaurant, immediately switching his indicator to turn in.

“did you not wanna hear that?” you asked, trying to hide your disappointment.

“NO! i mean. god, no. no i wanted to hear that. i think i’ve been wanting to hear that since middle school.” mike said, and you felt your heart start beating a little faster as mike pulled the car to a stop and put it into park. you’d turned your body to face him now, confidence boosted from knowing mike wheeler liked you too. you felt the same you did that night when he’d drunkenly confessed to you, only this time you didn’t have to worry about whether you were getting your hopes up or not. you were sure.

“i know we don’t know each other that well, or at all really. but i know i wanna get to know you a little better mike wheeler.” you said, sincerely. mike still felt a little dizzy, he’d had his mind set on you for so long. a crush that had never really gone away despite your lack of interaction. he always wondered why exactly he was just so drawn to you, but he was over the moon to know you’d felt the same.

“yeah! i’d love that! i’d really love that! to get to know you. yeah. yup.” mike rambled again, glad it was dark and you couldn’t see the redness that tinted his cheeks.

you laughed, and mike felt his legs go a little numb when you did. the way your head tilted back and the corners of your eyes crinkled.

you sat in comfortable silence for a moment, before mike broke it, “uhm, you wanna get dinner? i mean we are parked in front of a burger place right now. but i mean only if you wanna, i can also just take you back. we also don’t have to eat here we could eat somewhere else-“

“i do wanna. and no let’s eat here, i feel like it might’ve been fate.”

mike wheeler wasn’t sure what exactly you’d meant when you’d made that comment about fate - but if it was what he’d thought, then he agreed.

you sat in silence, just looking at each other for a while before getting out of the car. that cheesy shy lovesick grin on both your faces. and as he looked at you, he randomly remembered something. a memory so distant and forgotten that it was dreamlike.

a memory of him helping a hysterically crying girl in elementary school after she’d tripped and fell, holding her hand the whole way to the nurse’s office.

⚘

miffy speaks ! | apologies for the sappy they r soulmates it was fate ending , i’m a hopeless romantic <3

[kafkasapartment]

Guitar Girl, 2003. Nara Yoshitomo. Paper lithograph

[rimtrbl]

i’m not in love

────────────────────

pairing - steve harrington x reader (no use of yn)

genre - friends to ???

warnings - s5 stevie, mutual pining (acts shocked) nothing crazy.. just steve being awkies & reader is all smiles !! they both like each other & think no one else can see the heart eyes :’)

authors note - something abt steve harrington n his beauty has me pumping out stories every two days… yall gonna hate to see me when vol 2 comes out 🫡

it wouldn’t be a rimtrbl special if this wasn’t based on a song. this time it’s i’m not in love - 10cc

────────────────────

summary - the van battery dies in the middle of a crawl, and steve can only think of one person to call to help jumpstart.

────────────────────

“shit, shit, shit..” steve curses when the van comes to a rolling stop and he’s forced to pull up to the side of the road. jonathan looks to him puzzled as he shifts the gear into park and drops his head against the wheel, groaning in frustration because just when he thought his night couldn’t get any worse; the universe just had to jinx it. honestly, he wishes whatever entity is out there would just throw him a bone already, because not only is he stuck doing this crawl with jonathan byers of all people (since someone cough, dustin, didn’t even bother to show) but now it’s seemingly the one night where everything decided to go to shit.

jonathan is quick to ask a bunch of questions that steve harrington doesn’t really want to answer; mainly because he knows he won’t be able to get the words out calmly, but also because he now has to figure out how to get them out of this mess. “the power surge killed the battery. just let me make a call okay?” and steve doesn’t even give jonathan the option to reply before he’s fumbling for a few spare coins out of the glove box and pushing himself out of the driver’s seat.

────────────────────

he knows it’s late, and he’s fairly sure your parents wouldn’t be too happy that the phone was ringing this late, but steve slips a quarter into the machine and dials the familiar number. a groggy “steve” breaks through the static and he can’t help the sigh of relief that comes out when he realises it’s you who picked up. “yeah, it’s me. sorry if i woke you.” and you hum, shaking your head before realising he wasn’t able to see you. “no, it’s okay..” and you stifle a yawn with your hand, praying that it doesn’t catch through the phone because you didn’t want steve feeling guilty for actually waking you. “okay, good.” it’s silent for a few seconds, and steve realises he probably looks like an idiot right now. he coughs and gets to the point “hey, i uh. i don’t mean to drag you out in the middle of the night but -“ he hears you shuffle around; presumably in your room, before he clears his throat and continues. “- we’re pulled off to the side of the road right now, and i was hoping you’d be able to help jumpstart the van.” he doesn’t know why this makes him so nervous, or why he suddenly feels too hot in the jacket he’s wearing. all he knows is that the second you agree and let him know you’ll be there soon, he can’t wipe off the smile on his face the entire walk back to the van.

when he gets back jonathan looks at him like he has questions, but steve just shakes him off and when the familiar shape of your headlights come into view, it all starts making sense. he watches steve readjust the rear view mirror and give himself a once over in the reflection. “you’ve gotta be kidding me.” he sinks back into the passenger seat as the sound of you slamming the driver seat door shut has steve breaking out of his thoughts and clearing his throat before exiting the van once again to make his way over to you.

────────────────────

“so like, how long is this gonna take?” you question as you hand him the other end of the jumper cable and make your way back to you car, sticking the top half of your body through the rolled-down window to start the engine. steve coughs and busies himself with his hands, grasping onto the spare bopper he had.

“oh uh.. not too long. we just gotta let this sucker charge for a few minutes then hopefully.. vroom vroom.” he leans against the side of the van, hoping to god he looks as nonchalant as he can, leg crossed over the other as he has his arms folded. “bopper, while we wait?” he holds up the snack in his hand before extending it out to you. you roll your eyes playfully before outstretching your hand and grabbing it from him, opening the wrapper and finding a spot next to him while you wait.

it’s quiet for a few minutes before steve apologises. “again.. really sorry if i woke you.” he says between bites and you have to stop your body’s need to wipe the stray peanut from the side of his mouth. “no no, you’re fine. i was awake anyways.” which was a complete lie, but you’d feel bad telling him otherwise. “you know, you shouldn’t be awake so late..” he double downs and you raise an eyebrow in response. “you gonna reprimand me now steve? i could always just turn off the engine and go on my merry way..” you tease, already lifting off from where you were leaning against the van, pretending to go when he grabs your arm and pulls you back towards him. “oh no you dont, not when i asked oh so kindly.” he doesn’t know why teasing back comes so naturally to him, actually, he does.. but that means accepting it; and steve is very adamant that he doesn’t have time for a relationship at the moment. well, with the radio station and these crawls, he just doesn’t see himself being able to fully commit himself to anybody right now. robin thinks he’s full of shit though, as she makes it known that she’s doing all of those things too yet still has time for vickie.

“-and then she’s telling me all about how her and tommy.. hey, steve, you with me?” and he shakes those thoughts away, coming back to his senses and realising he’s now face to face with you. he shakes his head slowly and you smack his shoulder and grumble about how he never seems to be paying attention to anything you say. mumbling out an apology, he leads you both towards the mess of cables and you begin removing them, he offers to help and a small smile finds its way to his face as you continue to ramble on anyway.

opening the door to the van and sliding into the seat, he turns the key and starts the ignition, breathing out a “thank fuck” when the engine comes back to life. he turns to the window to find you already there, a victorious grin on your face and he can’t help how enamoured he feels right now, the image of your smile etched into his mind forever. he goes to say something cheesy, but the sound of jonathan clearing his throat beside him snaps him back to reality, and he awkwardly coughs out a “thank you” and a promise to call you later. “you owe me harrington..” you call out as the van starts moving and steve’s figure slowly slips out of view. you don’t hear his response before you huff out a sigh and walk back towards your own car, cables strewn in the boot and you slam the lid down, a cheesy smile plastered on your face and your heart thrums a little quicker.

────────────────────

“you’re a real asshole you know that?” it’s rhetorical, and he doesn’t let jonathan respond before he’s at it again. “didn’t even get to say a proper thanks by the way.” steve grumbles and shoots a glare towards jonathan who just shrugs. “you’ll live” and he doesn’t say anything else while steve wallows in self pity, silently beating himself up for driving off like that. he knows you don’t particularly care, and if you did, you would’ve said something while he was slowly rolling back onto the road. you didnt, but he makes a mental note to make it up to you later, in a way that doesn’t scream “hey, just so you know i think you’re amazing and i picture myself spending the rest of my life with you” but enough to show how much he really cares.

as he drives off back towards the radio station, he thinks; maybe soon he’ll stop cowering behind the excuse that he’s too busy to try anything with you.. but then again.. he’s not like, in love with you or anything..

and as you park in your driveway and make your way back inside, you can’t fight the butterflies that make themselves at home in your stomach. nor can you stop smiling to yourself and looking down at the scrunched up wrapper still balled in your hand. one day you’ll find the nerve to let steve catch a glimpse into how you really feel.. but hey, maybe not anytime soon because it’s not like you’re in love or anything.. right?

────────────────────

steve harrington.. let me drive my van into your heart.. please! i’m just so infatuated with him. i’m squeezing every last bit of romance out of me before the end of the show potentially breaks my heart. (here’s to hoping our man makes it out alive!)

and also, please do let me know if this was as cutesy as i envisioned it to be. it’s one thing to think of a concept, but putting it into words is something else entirely 😭

also just discovered i have aphantasia (lowkey thought everyone just couldn’t visualise anything but it appears i am just unlucky in the mental imagery department) so if the environment is a little off.. my apologies :’(

[supernovafics]

boyfriend!steve who loves recording everything

wc: 899

a/n: been thinking about this a lot a lot and finally got around to writing it

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“and here we have my beautiful girlfriend who put this whole party together.”

you looked into the video camera for a brief second, drunkenly smiling into it before looking up at steve. “you’re having way too much fun with this thing already, birthday boy.”

“what? it’s actually a very cool gift.” you could tell steve was a little drunk too, but you didn’t think that would’ve changed how into the gift he was; the camera the kids pooled their money together to get for him. “say hi.”

“hi,” you said, smiling and looking right into the lens again, and then you playfully stuck your tongue out at it. 

“i love you,” steve said with a soft happy laugh. “so much.”

“i love you too. so, so much,” you told him and he leaned down to kiss you. 

“thank you again for doing this whole thing,” he mumbled against your lips. “best surprise ever.”

you couldn’t help but smile. “no need to thank me. you deserve it, best boyfriend ever.”

the camera was filming the wooden floor at this point, but it probably still picked up what you two were saying. 

you pulled away from steve after a second, knowing that the longer you two were wrapped up in one another, the more your friends would playfully make fun of the two of you.

“you should go film robin and nancy doing karaoke. i think that them drunkenly singing bohemian rhapsody needs to be documented.” 

steve nodded. “great idea.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

after that first night, it should’ve been obvious, but that camera became steve’s favorite thing. it almost made the new pair of nikes you’d gotten him look like the most boring gift ever, but you didn’t really mind it.  

it was always the most random moments that he wanted to record of you two. “for memories” was always his response when you asked why he wanted to record you two brushing your teeth in the morning or you two lying on the couch and watching a bad movie that he brought home from family video. 

or even in this moment when you two were cooking in the kitchen of your shared apartment.

you immediately gave him a look when you noticed him turn on the camera. “steve, you’re making it seem like we’re cooking something super elaborate. it’s just a grilled cheese.” 

“it’s still like a fun cooking show,” he said, smiling as he set the camera up on the counter, placing it on top of a stack of random containers. “what do you need, chef?”

there was no way of telling if either of you were actually in the frame— you had a feeling that at least your heads were cut off— but still, you decided to play along. he was acting too cute and adorable not to. 

“bread and cheese, chef,” you told him as you went to grab a pan from the cabinet below you. “oh, and butter too.”

“got it,” steve nodded and went over to the pantry and then the fridge, and then made a show of showing the camera all of the ingredients he grabbed. 

you couldn’t help but laugh a little as you watched him. you decided to play along further and follow suit as you did most of the actual cooking; making a point of showing the camera exactly what you were doing and even exaggeratingly explaining it too. 

and when you two were eating at your small kitchen table ten minutes later, you admitted to steve with a smile that he was right, and filming everything did make it feel like a “fun cooking show.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

and then there were the moments when you were the one to grab the camera and initiate the recording. it was seldom, but when you did do it, steve always got the happiest grin on his face. 

like, in this moment, when you were coming out of the bathroom and grabbing steve’s t-shirt that had been haphazardly tossed to the floor thirty minutes earlier and slipping it over your body. for no particular reason, other than you found yourself wanting to, you grabbed the camera off of steve’s nightstand and then slid into his lap, straddling him.

he was already smiling as you turned on the camera and the familiar red light came on when you pressed record. 

“say hi,” you told him, your own smile on your face as you pointed the camera at him. his messy hair from what you two had previously been doing was probably the cutest thing you’d ever seen and you made sure the camera saw it. 

he smiled wider. “hi.”

one of his hands found your bare thigh and you let out a contented hum in response. 

“y'know, i’m surprised you haven’t asked to film us yet,” you said softly. "us doing what we just did…”

his eyes widened a bit at your shy suggestion and you smiled wider, zooming in on his expression. “is that an option?”

you stopped recording him then and reached over to set the camera back down on the nightstand. 

“maybe,” you answered, shrugging innocently. “i think it could be kinda hot.”

steve shook his head. “not just kinda. very hot.”

you leaned down to kiss him then. it was slow and languid and steve’s hands immediately went to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him.  

“very hot,” you hummed in agreement. 

[miffywhispers]

so few strange things x readers… going 2 have to take matters into my own hands… imagine this… mike wheeler x reader (college au)… yes…

[miffywhispers]

OKAY GUYS DID IT!!!