speaking to me soft like silky sheets

hi i’m M, welcome to my blog!!

[sturnl0ve]

madison beer. sturniolo triplets. bisexual. music. pepsi. conan gray. byler. juno. call me by your name. jennifer’s body. david bowie. wolfstar. mcu. stranger things. olivia rodrigo. moons. fall. dancing. billie eilish. aussie. harry styles. pisces.

[bbluesidess]

When they’ve been at a party for a while and Will’s battery is running low, Will likes to cuddle up against Mike to signal that he’s ready to go home.

[frootybb]

The Panty Girl Next Door

Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: Summer 1985 at Starcourt Mall. You work at Lovelace Lingerie right next to Scoops Ahoy, where Steve Harrington is stuck in that ridiculous sailor uniform. What starts as a cute (and slightly embarrassing) meet-cute over a misplaced box of panties turns into stolen ice cream breaks, awkward but endearing flirting, Robin’s relentless teasing, and Steve falling head over heels for his “panty girl.”

Word count: 6.8K

Warnings: NSFW, smut (detailed oral, penetrative sex, lingerie kink/play, semi-public elements), awkward flirting, canon-typical Steve self-doubt, set in Starcourt Mall summer ‘85 (fluffy AU, no Upside Down drama)

A/N: I was inspired by the lovely @keeryspullman when I learned that Scoops Ahoy is literally right next to Lovelace Lingerie in Starcourt Mall. What a perfect setup! And what better way to celebrate the 7-year anniversary of Stranger Things Season 3 than putting our favorite sailor (and his ridiculous uniform) back in action?

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You never thought your summer job would involve this much lace, silk, and awkward male customers asking if things came in "sexy" sizes. But here you were, working at Lovelace Lingerie in the brand new Starcourt Mall, right next door to Scoops Ahoy. The nautical-themed ice cream parlor with its blue and white striped everything and sailor-uniformed employees was a constant source of amusement and lately, a source of butterflies in your stomach every time you caught a glimpse of a certain brown-haired boy through the glass divider or in the mall hallway.

The stores shared a wall, and on slow days, you could sometimes hear the faint "Ahoy!" greetings and the bell of the register from next door. Your store was all soft lighting, perfume samples, and mannequins posed in delicate bras and panties that made even the most confident shoppers blush. You spent your shifts folding panties into perfect stacks, helping women find the right fit for date nights or honeymoons, and politely redirecting the occasional creep who thought "trying on" meant something else.

It was a Tuesday in late June, the mall still buzzing with the excitement of its grand opening. You were in the back stockroom, sorting a new shipment of imported French lace panties, black, red, baby pink, with tiny bows and intricate patterns when the front bell chimed. You wiped your hands on your simple black skirt and blouse uniform and headed out, expecting another early bird customer.

Instead, standing there holding a large cardboard box labeled "Lovelace Lingerie - Fragile - Assorted Panties & Bras" was Steve Harrington.

He looked exactly like the rumors from high school: tall, athletic build, perfectly styled hair that somehow survived the sailor hat perched on his head, and that easy smile that had probably gotten him out of trouble more times than you could count. But up close, in the ridiculous navy blue shorts and striped shirt with the Scoops Ahoy logo, he looked less like the king of Hawkins High and more like a guy who was just trying to make it through the summer without losing his mind.

"Uh, hi," he said, shifting the box in his arms. His voice was warm, a little hesitant. "The delivery guy dropped this off at our store by mistake. Said it was for the place 'right next door.' I figured it wasn't for the ice cream, unless you guys are branching out into edible underwear or something."

You couldn't help but laugh, the sound echoing softly in the quiet store. "No edible underwear here. At least not yet. Thanks for bringing it over. That box looks heavy."

He grinned, and it did something to your chest you weren't ready to examine. "No problem. I'm Steve, by the way. From Scoops Ahoy. The one in the dorky sailor suit."

You took the box from him, your fingers brushing his for a second. It was heavier than you expected, and you set it on the counter with a small grunt. You introduced yourself as the girl working at Lovelace Lingerie. The one surrounded by... well, all this." You gestured to the racks of bras and the table displays of panties in every color and style imaginable.

Steve's eyes flicked to the open box: delicate thongs, bikini cuts, high-waisted briefs with lace trim, and his cheeks turned the faintest shade of pink. He quickly looked back at your face, polite and respectful, but the tips of his ears betrayed him. "Yeah. Panty central. Got it. Cool store, though. Very... lacy."

You smirked, already liking his awkward charm. "That's the point. Thanks again for the delivery. If you ever need help carrying ice cream tubs or something, I'm right here. Though I might not be as strong as you look."

He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Deal. And hey, if you need any ice cream to survive the day—on the house—come on over. We have this new flavor, U.S.S. Butterscotch. It's pretty good. Not as good as whatever fancy stuff you sell, but..."

"I'll keep that in mind, sailor," you teased, and the nickname made his smile widen.

He lingered for a moment longer, glancing around the store like he was trying to find an excuse to stay. "Alright, well... see you around, panty girl."

The words slipped out casually, and his eyes widened as soon as he said them. "Wait, I didn't mean—"

You waved it off with a laugh. "It's fine. I've been called worse. Panty girl it is. See you around, ice cream boy."

He left with a wave and a sheepish grin, and you watched him go, the box of panties forgotten for a second as you wondered what the hell just happened. Steve Harrington had just called you "panty girl" and it hadn't felt creepy at all. It had felt... cute. Flirty, even.

That was the beginning.

The next day, during a lull between customers, you were arranging a new display of satin panties near the front window when you saw him again. Steve was at the Scoops Ahoy counter, serving a group of giggling teenage girls who were clearly more interested in him than the ice cream. Robin Buckley, his coworker with the sharp tongue and short hair, was rolling her eyes behind him, probably adding another tally to the "You Suck" side of their whiteboard.

You tried not to stare, but it was hard not to notice how the sailor uniform somehow made his shoulders look broader and his legs look longer. He caught your eye through the glass and gave a small wave. You waved back, feeling silly but warm inside.

Steve's internal thoughts during the first week were a constant loop of "Don't screw this up" and "She's actually talking to me." Every time he saw you through the window, arranging panties or helping a customer, his chest did this weird tight thing that wasn't entirely unpleasant. He caught himself practicing conversations in the mirror at home, trying to sound cool and not like the nervous wreck he felt around you. Robin noticed, of course. She always noticed.

"You're gone, Harrington," she said one afternoon while they were wiping down tables. "Like, full-on heart-eyes, can't-stop-talking-about-her gone. It's cute. Disgusting, but cute."

"Shut up," he muttered, but there was no heat in it. "She's... different. She doesn't expect me to be anything. I can just be Steve. And she likes that Steve."

Robin softened a little. "Then don't mess it up. Be honest. Bring her ice cream. Ask her out before some other mall guy does. There are plenty of dudes staring at that store."

The thought of someone else asking you out made his stomach twist in a way that surprised him. Jealousy wasn't new, but this was protective, possessive in a way that felt right instead of toxic. He started making excuses to walk by your store more often. "Just stretching my legs." "Checking the mall directory again." Robin called him on it every time.

Later that afternoon, when the mall traffic slowed, Steve appeared at your store entrance again, this time holding two ice cream cones.

"Hey, panty girl," he said, grinning like it was an inside joke already. "Brought you a peace offering. U.S.S. Butterscotch. Figured you might need something sweet after dealing with mall weirdos all day."

You accepted the cone, your fingers brushing again. "Thanks, Steve. That's really nice. What do I owe you?"

"Nothing. Consider it a neighborly gesture. Or, you know, an excuse to come say hi without looking like a total creep who hangs around lingerie stores."

You laughed and took a lick of the ice cream. It was creamy, buttery, with swirls of caramel. "It's good. Really good. And for the record, you're not a creep. The guys who come in here asking if we have 'crotchless options for their girlfriend'—those are the creeps. You're just... the ice cream guy who delivers boxes."

He leaned against the counter, watching you eat the ice cream with an intensity that made your stomach flip. "Yeah? Well, this ice cream guy thinks your job is way cooler than his. You get to touch all this fancy stuff all day. I just scoop frozen dairy and get yelled at by kids when we run out of sprinkles."

You spent the next twenty minutes chatting. He told you about how his dad had basically forced him to get the job after his grades weren't good enough for the college they wanted. How he used to be "King Steve" but that crown felt heavier every year. You told him about how you took the job at Lovelace because the pay was decent, the hours flexible around community college classes, and you actually liked helping people feel confident in their own skin.

"No judgment here," he said sincerely. "My exes always said I was clueless about girl stuff. Maybe I could learn something from you."

You raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Planning on buying something?"

His ears went pink again. "For my mom! For her birthday. Yeah. Totally for my mom. She likes... nice things."

You didn't call him on the obvious lie. Instead, you spent the next half hour helping him pick out a tasteful satin robe and matching chemise set in soft lavender. You described the fabric, how it felt against skin, the way the lace details made it elegant rather than trashy. Steve listened like you were teaching him the secrets of the universe, his eyes on you more than the lingerie.

When he left with the bag, he turned back at the door. "Thanks, really. And... you can call me dingus if Robin does it too much. It's her thing."

You smiled. "I'll stick with sailor. Or Steve. Steve's good."

That night, you went home thinking about the way he said your name.

It became a routine.

The first week after the delivery felt like a dream you didn't want to wake up from. Every time the bell above the door at Lovelace Lingerie chimed, your heart did a little flip, hoping it was Steve. Most of the time it was just regular customers: women looking for bridal sets, teenagers giggling over push-up bras, the occasional husband dragged in by his wife looking like he'd rather be anywhere else. But the anticipation made even the mundane tasks fun. Folding panties became less of a chore when you could glance over and see Steve through the large glass windows that separated your stores in the open mall layout.

Starcourt Mall was still new and shiny in the summer of 1985. The air conditioning fought valiantly against the Indiana heat, but on particularly warm days, the smell of popcorn from the theater and pretzels from the food court mixed with the floral perfumes you sprayed on test strips at your counter. Scoops Ahoy had its own signature scent: sweet waffle cones, vanilla, and the faint ocean like cologne they probably gave the employees to stay in theme. You liked it. It reminded you of Steve.

On Thursday, two days after the box incident, you were helping a young woman pick out her first "sexy" lingerie set for a college boyfriend when you saw Steve again. He was outside the store, pretending to read the mall directory map but clearly watching you through the window. When you caught his eye, he startled like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar and waved awkwardly. You excused yourself for a moment and stepped out.

"Lost?" you teased, crossing your arms.

He rubbed the back of his neck, the sailor hat tilting slightly. "Nah. Just... checking out the mall. New job, you know? Trying to learn the layout."

"Uh huh. And the layout just happens to include staring into Lovelace Lingerie?"

His ears turned pink, a recurring theme you were starting to find endearing. "Okay, busted. I was hoping to see if you wanted to try that butterscotch again. Or... I don't know. Just say hi without it being weird."

"It's not weird," you assured him. "I like seeing you. Even in the sailor suit. It suits you. Pun intended."

He laughed, the sound bright and genuine. "You're too nice to me. Most people would be making fun of the shorts."

"The shorts are... something. But you pull them off. Tall, dark, and nautical."

"Flattery will get you free ice cream for life," he said, stepping closer. The mall crowd flowed around you, teenagers laughing, moms with strollers, but it felt like you two were in your own bubble. "Seriously, though. If you get a break, come over. Robin's been asking about the 'mystery panty girl.' I may have mentioned you."

"You mentioned me?"

"Only good things. Like how you didn't kick me out when I brought the box. And how you're the only person in this mall who doesn't treat me like I'm still wearing a letterman jacket and being an asshole."

You touched his arm lightly. "I like this Steve. The one who delivers misplaced packages and offers free cones. Keep him around."

His smile softened. "I'm trying. Every day."

That afternoon, during your fifteen-minute break, you did go over. Robin was behind the counter, serving a family, while Steve was in the back restocking napkins or something. The store was cute in a kitschy way, the counter looked like a ship's deck, complete with fake portholes and a bell. The menu board listed flavors with nautical puns: "The Mint Void," "U.S.S. Butterscotch," "Starcourt Strawberry Cheesecake."

Robin spotted you immediately. "Ah, the famous panty girl arrives. Steve's in the back. Try not to make out in the supply closet. Or do. I don't care as long as I don't have to hear about it for the next week."

You laughed. "Nice to meet you properly, Robin."

"Figured. He's been 'Steve Harrington, professional ice cream scooper and professional piner' since Tuesday. It's disgusting. In a cute way. You want a cone? On the house. Or on Steve's tab. Same thing."

Steve emerged then, wiping his hands on a towel, and his face lit up when he saw you. "Hey! You came."

"Break time," you said. "Thought I'd take you up on that offer."

He made you a double scoop of butterscotch in a waffle cone and led you to one of the small tables near the window. Robin gave you both a knowing look but stayed busy with customers.

"So," Steve said, licking a bit of ice cream from his thumb in a way that shouldn't have been attractive but was. "Tell me something about you that isn't 'works at the lingerie store and is way out of my league.'"

You thought for a second. "I go to community college part-time. Business classes, but I really want to do something with fashion or design eventually. Maybe work for a real lingerie brand someday, not just sell it. And I love old horror movies even though they scare me, and my favorite color is actually green, not black like my work clothes might suggest."

"Green. Got it. Horror movies—I'll remember to hold your hand during the scary parts." He grinned. "My turn. I used to be... not great. In high school. Thought being popular meant being a jerk sometimes. Lost a lot of friends when I realized that. My parents are... complicated. Dad's disappointed I'm not at some fancy school. Mom tries but doesn't really get me. I like kids, actually—babysat a lot last year. They're cool. And I have this weird fear of failing at everything now that I'm not 'King Steve' anymore."

You reached across the table and squeezed his hand. "You're not failing. You're working, figuring it out. That's more than a lot of people do. And for what it's worth, I think this version of you is pretty great."

He looked at your joined hands like it was something precious. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Now eat your ice cream before it melts, sailor."

The rest of the break was easy conversation, favorite bands (his: The Police, yours: Madonna and some older rock), worst customer stories (his: a kid who cried because the ice cream wasn't blue enough; yours: a guy who asked if the store sold "dominatrix gear" for his "very specific" girlfriend). By the time you had to go back, you felt like you'd known him longer than a few days.

Friday brought the first real test of whatever this was becoming. A group of guys your age came into Lovelace, loud and laughing, clearly there on a dare or something. One of them kept making comments about the mannequins, asking if you were "the model" for the displays. You handled it with professional detachment, but it was grating.

Steve must have seen the tension from next door because he appeared at the entrance like a knight in sailor armor. "Hey, babe," he said loudly, striding in and wrapping an arm around your waist. "These guys giving you trouble?"

The leader of the group sized him up. "Who's this? Your boyfriend?"

Steve didn't hesitate. "Yeah. Problem?"

They backed off quickly after that, muttering about "not worth it." When they left, you sagged against Steve a little.

"Thanks," you said quietly. "I hate when they do that. Makes me feel gross even though it's just a job."

He rubbed your back soothingly. "I get it. People can be assholes. But you've got me now. Or... at least, I'd like to be that person for you. The one who shows up."

You looked up at him. "I'd like that too."

That was the day Robin officially declared you "official" on the whiteboard with a big heart and "Steve's panty girl" written in her messy handwriting. Steve didn't erase it. He added a little doodle of an ice cream cone next to it.

The weekend passed in a haze of work and growing closeness. Saturday was busy for both stores, moms buying back-to-school clothes for kids meant more foot traffic, and you sold several "date night" sets. Steve was swamped with families wanting cones before the movie theater. But during a rare simultaneous lull, he snuck over with a small bouquet of daisies he'd apparently bought from the flower cart near the food court.

"For you," he said, handing them over like they were made of gold. "Figured your store could use something that isn't lace or silk. Though those are nice too. Especially on you. I mean—not that I've seen you in them. Not that I was imagining—"

You cut him off with a quick kiss on the cheek, mindful of customers. "They're perfect, Steve. Thank you. And for the record, imagining is allowed. Encouraged, even."

His eyes darkened a fraction. "Noted."

Sunday was your day off, but you found yourself at the mall anyway, "just browsing." You ended up at Scoops Ahoy, watching Steve work. He was good at it: charming the customers, making the kids laugh with silly faces while scooping, remembering regulars' orders. Robin caught you watching and dragged you behind the counter.

"Break room," she said. "Go. Ten minutes. Don't get caught by the manager."

The "break room" was really just a small closet with a table and lockers. Steve joined you a minute later, closing the door behind him.

"Hey," he said, suddenly shy again now that you were alone in the small space. "Didn't expect to see you today."

"Couldn't stay away," you admitted. "Missed the view."

He stepped closer, backing you gently against the lockers. "The sailor suit view?"

"The Steve view," you corrected, pulling him down for a kiss.

It was the first real kiss, deep, exploratory, his hands on your waist, yours in his hair. He tasted like the sample spoons of ice cream he'd been trying. When you broke apart, both breathing hard, he rested his forehead against yours.

"This is crazy," he whispered. "I've known you less than a week and I already... I don't know. Feel like this could be something big."

"Me too," you said. "Scary big. But good scary."

He kissed you again, slower this time, like he was memorizing the feel of your lips. "I want to do this right. Take you out. Show you I'm serious. Not just the guy who flirts in the mall."

"I'd like that."

The rest of the break was spent talking in low voices, sharing more stories. He told you about the time he and his old friends had spray-painted something stupid on the school and got caught. How it was the beginning of the end for his "king" status, but also the start of him realizing he wanted more. You told him about your family, supportive but distant, proud you were in college but not understanding why you liked "frivolous" things like fashion and pretty underthings.

"They're not frivolous," Steve said firmly. "They make people feel good. Confident. That's important. You're important."

By the time Robin knocked on the door with a "Time's up, lovebirds," you were both grinning like idiots.

Monday brought more customers and more tension-building. A regular at your store, an older woman who came in every week for "something new to surprise my husband," asked about Steve when she saw him wave from next door.

"That's the ice cream boy, isn't it?" she said with a knowing smile. "He's been mooning over this store for weeks. Good for you, dear. He seems sweet."

You blushed but didn't deny it. "He is."

She bought an extra set "for your honeymoon" and winked on the way out.

That afternoon, Steve came over with a proposition. "So, Robin and I were talking. There's this thing at the food court this weekend—live music or something. Not a date if you don't want it to be, but... it could be. If you want."

"It's a date," you said immediately. "But only if you promise to wear the sailor hat. It's growing on me."

He groaned but agreed.

The days leading up to the "date" (which was really just hanging out in public as more than friends) were filled with more visits, more ice cream, more stolen moments. You helped him practice "cool guy" lines for customers, which mostly ended in both of you laughing. He helped you carry a heavy box of new inventory without being asked. The sexual tension was simmering, little touches that lasted too long, looks that said more than words, the way he'd bite his lip when you described a particularly sexy piece of lingerie to a customer.

One evening, after closing, you were both lingering in the hallway between your stores. The mall was mostly empty, janitors cleaning, a few stragglers heading to their cars.

"I can't stop thinking about kissing you again," Steve admitted, leaning against the wall. "Is that okay to say?"

"Very okay," you said, stepping into his space. "I think about it too. A lot. Especially when I'm folding all those panties and wondering what you'd think if I wore some of them for you."

His breath hitched. "You..."

You kissed him then, right there in the semi-public hallway, his hands sliding under your blouse to touch bare skin. It was heated, a promise of more. When you pulled back, his eyes were dark.

"Friday," he said roughly. "After the food court thing. My place. Or yours. Wherever. I want... I want all of you."

"Yes," you said. "Friday."

The anticipation made the rest of the week deliciously torturous.

On Friday, the food court event was a local band playing 80s covers: Madonna, Michael Jackson, some Springsteen. You and Steve danced a little, his hands on your waist, your head on his shoulder during the slow songs. Robin was there too with some friends from band, giving you both thumbs up from across the court. It felt normal and special at the same time. Like you were just two people falling for each other in a mall, not aware of any bigger dangers or futures.

After the music ended, Steve drove you to his house. It was nice, suburban, a little empty feeling, but clean. His parents were out of town, he explained. You didn't care. The second the door closed, you were on each other.

Clothes came off in a trail to his bedroom. Your sundress, his nice shirt. You pushed him onto the bed and straddled him, still in your bra and panties, the black lace set you'd worn specifically for this.

"Jesus," he breathed, hands roaming your thighs, his voice cracking a bit in that awkward but endearing way he had when he got flustered. "You're... fuck, you're everything. I mean, wow, I can't even—your skin is so soft and this lace... it's killing me already."

You ground down against him, feeling how hard he was through his jeans. "Show me."

He flipped you gently, hovering over you, his cheeks flushed as he tried to play it cool but his voice came out a little shaky. "Tell me if you want to stop. Any time. I don't want to rush or anything, I mean, you're just so... perfect, and I don't want to mess this up."

"I won't want to stop," you reassured him, pulling him closer.

He kissed down your body with hesitant reverence at first, his lips brushing your collarbone, then lower. His fingers fumbled slightly with the clasp of your bra before it gave way, and he let out a soft, awkward laugh. "Got it. Sorry, I'm usually better at... never mind." He took one nipple into his mouth, sucking gently at first, then with more confidence as your back arched and you moaned, his other hand kneading the soft flesh of your breast. He switched sides, lavishing attention, his tongue swirling and teeth grazing lightly, drawing out whimpers from you.

Then he moved lower, kissing a trail down your stomach, his breath hot against your skin. He peeled your panties down your legs slowly, reverently, like unwrapping a gift, his eyes dark with desire as he took in the sight of you. "My panty girl," he murmured against your inner thigh, voice thick. "All this lace and you're still the prettiest thing in the room. God, I can't believe you're letting me do this."

His mouth found your center, tentative at first with soft kisses and licks, learning what made you gasp and buck your hips. He grew bolder, tongue circling your clit, two fingers sliding inside you, curling just right as he listened to your moans and adjusted. The sensations built quickly, his warm mouth, the slight stubble on his cheeks brushing your sensitive skin, the way he hummed in pleasure against you. You came hard, thighs shaking around his head, fingers tangled in his perfect hair, chanting his name like a prayer.

When you recovered, panting, you pushed him onto his back. "My turn." You took him in your mouth, slow and teasing at first, tongue swirling around the head, then taking him deeper, using your hand in tandem. He was a mess of gasps and awkward praises: "Oh fuck, that feels—wow, you're amazing, I don't deserve—shit, keep going." He threaded his fingers in your hair gently, not pushing, just holding on as he panted and begged. "Baby—please, I'm close—"

You climbed on top, sinking down slowly onto him, both of you gasping at the tight, hot stretch. It was perfect, slow rolls of your hips building to a steady rhythm, his hands guiding your movements, mouth latching onto your breasts again, sucking marks into your skin. He sat up, arms wrapping around you tightly, thrusting up into you as you rode him harder, skin slapping, breaths mingling in messy, desperate kisses. "Love you," he panted against your neck, voice breaking with emotion and pleasure. "Love you so much already. Feels so good, so tight and wet and—fuck."

The coil in your belly tightened again. You came with a cry, clenching around him, pulling him over the edge too. He followed with a broken moan of your name, burying his face in your shoulder, hips stuttering as he spilled inside the condom.

Afterward, you stayed connected for long moments, catching your breath, before cleaning up and collapsing tangled in sheets. He held you close, pressing soft kisses to your hair, your forehead, your lips. "I think I'm falling in love with you, panty girl," he said softly, almost shy. "Is that crazy? It's only been a few weeks."

You smiled against his chest. "Not crazy. I feel it too. My ice cream sailor."

Later, cleaned up and curled under his blankets, he traced patterns on your back. "Stay the night? I can drive you home in the morning. Or... whenever. No pressure."

"I'll stay," you said. "But only if you make me breakfast. And maybe bring me ice cream in bed."

He laughed. "Deal. Anything for my panty girl."

The next morning was domestic and sweet: pancakes (slightly burnt), coffee, him in boxers and you in his t-shirt, making out against the kitchen counter between bites. He drove you home with the radio playing loud, both of you singing along badly.

From then on, it was official. You were Steve Harrington's girlfriend. The panty girl to his ice cream sailor. You spent nights at each other's places when you could, weekends exploring Hawkins beyond the mall, introducing him to your friends, meeting his (Robin was already your favorite). He brought you coffee in the mornings before shifts, you brought him lunch from the food court. The whiteboard at Scoops got so many hearts and doodles that the manager made them clean it, but they just started a new one.

One particularly memorable night, you convinced him to let you "close up" the lingerie store with him there. After the last customer left and the lights dimmed, you locked the door and turned to him with a mischievous smile.

"Want a private showing?"

He nodded, speechless, eyes wide as you disappeared into the back. You came out first in a delicate white lace babydoll that skimmed your curves, the sheer fabric leaving little to the imagination. Steve's jaw dropped, his hands twitching at his sides. "Holy— I mean, wow. You look... incredible. Like, I don't even have words. Is this real life?"

You twirled playfully, then moved to the next piece, a red corset set with matching garters that cinched your waist and pushed your breasts up enticingly. Steve stood, reaching for you with trembling hands. "Can I... touch? Please? This is better than any fantasy I've had."

You let him. His fingers traced the lace edges, clumsy at first in his eagerness, then more sure as he kissed along your neck, down the swell of your breasts. He fumbled with the hooks of the corset, muttering, "These things are tricky, but worth it." Once it fell away, he worshipped every inch of exposed skin with his mouth and hands, whispering awkward but heartfelt compliments: "Your body is insane. Soft here... and here. I could do this all night."

Piece by piece, the lingerie came off. You ended up naked on the plush fitting room carpet, Steve's sailor hat perched comically on your head as he knelt between your thighs again. His tongue and fingers worked you open until you were writhing, begging. Then you pulled him up, rolled a condom on him, and sank down, taking him deep. You rode him slowly at first, savoring every inch, then faster, your hands on his chest, his on your hips, guiding and thrusting up to meet you. The store's soft background music mixed with your moans and his grunts, the mannequins silent observers to your passion. He came with a groan, holding you tight as waves of pleasure crashed over both of you.

After, wrapped in a discarded silk robe, you fed him pieces of chocolate you'd stashed in the break room. "Best closing shift ever," he said.

"Even better than scooping ice cream?"

"Way better. Though I might need to bring some butterscotch next time. For... reasons."

You laughed until your stomach hurt.

As the summer wound down, the reality of the future loomed, college for you, maybe a better job for him, the mall still standing but your time there feeling temporary. But Steve made it clear he wasn't going anywhere.

One evening, as you closed up together, he pulled you into his arms in the quiet hallway.

"Whatever happens," he said, "I'm in this. You and me. I love you. More than I thought I could love anyone this fast.

You kissed him, slow and deep. "I love you too, Steve. My unexpected summer romance. My favorite person in this whole ridiculous mall."

He smiled against your lips. "Even with the sailor suit?"

"Especially with the sailor suit."

And as the mall lights dimmed around you, the scent of ice cream and perfume lingering in the air, you knew this was just the beginning. The king had found his match in the most unexpected aisle right between the ice cream and the lace.

. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁ ⟡ ܁ . ⊹ ₊ ܁. . ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁ ⟡ ܁ . ⊹ ₊ ܁. . ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁ ⟡ ܁ . ⊹ ₊ ܁. . ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁

Taglist: @stydiaforeverbitchezz @keerygirlie98 @exooojongdaeee @stoneyggirl @gatorgirlie @soggycerealtbh @whispersoflost @louisbelongstome28 @needylittlebabyintherain @silkscreams @ulalalauwu @lacywithdrawal @stoneyggirl2 @sanctumdemunson @luminousdoomsellsword @shecleansup @maaaachiii @sespe08 @lookalivesunshine-x @calelundaa

[lonely--nobody]

reblog if you’re a little lost in life rn

[vurbenaa]

can you write about Finn helping the reader come for first time cause men in her past haven’t been able to

⊹ ࣪ ˖ make u cum (18+) — finn wolfhard

summary: no one's ever been able to get you off before but yourself. even then, it's hard. when you accidentally admit that to finn while watching a movie, he's more than sure that he can change that, if you'll have him. (fem!afab!reader)

"What'd you say?" Your boyfriend, Finn, reiterated, turning to face you on the couch with an arm extended over your shoulder.

"...Nobody I've been with has ever made me, well—cum. I don't know why. I don't think it's me. I think it's just harder for me to." You shrug it off, glancing back to the TV screen in front of you like your face wasn't burning up from embarrassment.

You didn't expect the conversation to come up. But naturally, while watching a shitty movie where the girl had faked the most obvious orgasm, you just snorted and pointed it out to him. He joked, asking how you'd know, and that's what lead you here. An instinctive scoff and a roll of your eyes.

"God, no, it's not you. That's normal, probably, for it to take more work for some people. I'd think." He scoffs and shakes his head with furrowed brows, looking appalled, "and no guy ever, I don't know, put in a little more effort when you didn't—?"

"Sometimes they'd try. Not well. But they'd try."

"Did they actually?" He presses before joking, "or was it them going down on you for, what, five minutes and probably totally missing your clit?"

A bit sheepish at the pure accuracy, you go to speak but nothing comes out. Giving a small shrug, just like earlier, Finn's brows raise in amusement. Like he can't believe all of this.

"You deserve better. You know that, right?" He rests a gentle hand over your thigh. It doesn't feel so chaste given the current topic at hand, breath hitching in your throat.

Nodding back, you let your eyes meet his again. He's been watching you keenly this entire time, every twitch of your lips and breath you take like he's pocketing the information for later.

"C'mon, I mean it. You don't believe me?" He lightly jokes, trying to ease the heavy tension building between the two of you. His once cozy living room now turned heated and suffocating.

Studying your features, gaze dropping from your parted lips to your curious eyes, he sighs.

"I'm your boyfriend. It's kind of part of the job that I make you happy, isn't it?" He leans forward and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. When he pulls away, you two are still closer than you have been all evening.

"...Can I try?" He whispers under his breath, ghosted against your own lips.

You blink hard, swallowing thickly. It's as if your whole body doubled in weight at the thought, feeling heavy and, quite frankly, dizzy.

"You want to?" The words come out more dazed than you'd hoped, "we haven't done anything like that before."

"I won't even take my jacket off." He raises both hands in defense, smiling softly, "I'm not saying we need to have sex right here, right now. God, no. I have two hands and a mouth for a reason, y'know? Okay, that sounds stupid, but—"

"But I don't want you to think of sex and... And be scared that your body is the problem." He expresses, "because it isn't. I guarantee it. And sex isn't always about reaching an orgasm, either, y'know? It's just about feeling good."

"...You're rambling again." You let out a soft laugh, hand resting on top of where his find purchase on your thigh. He lets out a matching, soft exhale.

After some thought, you agree with a murmur, "just don't be disappointed if I don't cum, okay?"

Eyebrows raising in surprise at your agreement, Finn eagerly nods in understanding. His forehead accidentally bumps against yours from the closeness and all you two can do is breathe out laughs against each others lips.

That's what you needed, you think. A reminder of how unserious and fun intimacy could be when you removed all expectations of perfection.

Finn, careful to take it slow, leaves a tantalizing kiss to your lips. It lingers and crowds all of your senses, sending shivers down your spine and heat throughout your core. All from one kiss.

"...Bedroom?" You ask, hesitantly, unsure of when to propose the change of scenery.

He nods almost immediately, honoring your wish. He rises from his place on the couch and, when you follow, he's resting a hand on the small of your back as you two walk down the hall together. A small reminder that he's right there.

When you two make it to his room, dimly lit and a mess from sleeping in the bed earlier and never getting to making it, you move to lie with your head against the pillow, nerves running rampant. Finn waits, letting you take your spot. Then, the bed dips when he joins and places himself right on top of you. Hovering, watching.

Kissing the corner of your lips, he helps you to loosen up with slow touches. His kisses run lower, from your jaw to your neck, as he finds purchase on your bare collarbone. Sucking and licking and making his presence known.

"Do you wanna keep this on?" Finn runs his fingertips over the hem of your shirt. With the shake of your head, he's helping you sit up and slip it off in no time. Then, your bra with it, his nimble fingers making quick work of the metal clasp.

"God, you are so fucking pretty." He curses easily, shaking his head in awe. "I could look at you forever. Can I?"

Huffing out a small laugh, you rest a hand in his hair as he litters your bare chest in warm, wet kisses. The hot of his tongue against the cold of your skin is electrifying, thighs pressing together with need. Nobody took their time like this, tracing your body with theirs and treating it like a temple to be worshipped and sanctified.

His hands join him in his efforts, one of his hands tweaking at your nipple as his mouth cares for the other. Attentive as always. The swirl of his tongue and twists of his fingers have you sighing with relief just to be touched by him.

With every touch, he makes sure you know what's going through his mind.

"Wanna kiss you like this everywhere. Everyday."

"Can't believe my girlfriend is letting me touch her like this. Can't believe I'm this lucky."

"Could cum just from kissing you, I think."

That last one is a joke. You think. You also know better than to doubt him, though.

Kissing down your exposed stomach, hands cupping your waist like it's something to be protected, Finn makes it to your waistband and looks up with wide, wanting eyes.

"You want these on or off?" He asks, giving you the option. "You can change your mind later, too."

Nodding back, you murmur and lift your hips, "off."

Complying with ease, he strips you of your pants but leaves you in your undergarments. He's easing you into it. You don't feel rushed and maybe that's part of why you have so much hope for this. There's no sense of urgency to your pleasure. He's exploring, admiring, and loving you.

"Still all good?" He asks, looking up at you from where he lie between your thighs. Scooted down, his hands are on your thighs keeping them apart as his breath ghosts your underwear and all you can do is fight not to beg for more.

You remind yourself of his words, echoing in your mind from earlier: "Sex isn't always about reaching an orgasm. It's just about feeling good."

"...Perfect." You sigh back, fingers tangling in his dark curls, messy and imperfect and alluring. The soft smile you give him is more permission than anything.

Then, he continues, "I'm gonna use my fingers first. Just gonna keep these on, feel for what you like, let you get used to it. And when you're ready, I'll take these off and use what I learned to make you feel even better. How does that sound?"

Laying out everything he's gonna do, letting you in on his thought process. It's reassuring. He must realize that as your body relaxes against the bed.

"And your mouth?" You ask, nodding.

Smiling sheepishly, he nods too, "and my mouth."

Giving him the go ahead, the pads of his fingers slowly run over the damp fabric to gauge where you're most sensitive. Trailing higher, his index fingers presses against your clit, making your hips twitch upward for more. He smiles, watching your breath catch in your throat as you stare down at him in utter awe.

He's reading you like a book he never wants to put down.

"...There." You murmur and nod, "right there." He nods back in understanding, slowly circling the clothed spot and watching your body slowly react.

It doesn't hit immediately, and he thinks that must be part of why nobody took your body seriously. You don't writhe and thrash from the littlest of touches. It builds up, takes time, and he can only imagine how intense the crash of the waves will be when given the proper attention.

"Does this feel better than if I were to, uh, finger you, do you think?" He asks, genuinely curious.

"...It feels better, yeah." You say after some thought, focusing on the friction that comes with the fabric of your underwear grinding against your clit over and over. "That's all I do when I do it myself. It always takes a while, though."

You almost find it in you to apologize for not reacting more intensely. Dramatized, over the top, outright fake. But you don't. He makes you feel like you don't have to be sorry.

"Yeah, that's fine." He says earnestly, like it's the most normal thing he's ever heard.

Head dipping lower, his tongue flicks over the same spot his finger circled. Your core thighs tense. It's small, but he catches it and continues.

"Can I take these off?" He asks abruptly. When he sees the surprise in your expression, he adds, jokingly, "I've gotten enough data. Wanna try now."

Snorting at the ridiculousness of his words, you lift your hips begrudgingly and let him expose the rest of you to him. It's new and vulnerable, but you trust him more than anyone else you've been splayed out like this for. It's exciting, if anything.

Finn almost moans at the sight, caught somewhere low in his throat as he stifles it. His index and middle fingers run through your slit before ghosting your entrance. You don't react super strongly, just leaning into his touches.

"I swear..." He huffs out a small laugh, like he's in disbelief, "you're something else. Just—completely. I've never seen someone so..."

"Nervous?" You snort, interjecting.

"Beautiful." He says, the word heavy and intentional. It makes your pussy flutter around nothing, to which he bites his lower lip.

"You like that? When I call you beautiful?" He asks, thumb circling your clit slowly. "Because you are. You're the prettiest. Your whole damn body. Especially right here." Without the fabric, every feeling is heightened now, and you clench around nothing again from his praise alone.

Humming in agreement, you tug at his hair weakly. He huffs out a soft breath before looking up at you.

With soft, loving eyes that stay on yours, he leans down to wrap his lips around your clit. If that isn't enough, he suckles on the nerves and laves his tongue over it. The contrast of nothingness compared to everything at once has you reeling, hips lifting immediately to try and feel more. He lets you, never pushing them down or forcing them apart. His focus is steady on making you get to that peak you so deserve.

"F-Finn—" You gasp out loud, louder than you've ever heard yourself during such an intimate moment, "'s so good, just like that..."

When he shifts, you feel something you hadn't before. The brush of his chin, his facial hair, against your thighs and bare pussy. It's rough, almost tickling your skin, but for some reason, it adds to the euphoria you're feeling right now.

When he pulls away momentarily, you can see the wet spot that glistens in his facial hair. A whine rumbles low in your throat at the erotic sight. He just laughs, wiping it off with the back of his hand.

"Um, can I eat you out?" He asks, almost feeling awkward by his own vulgar wording. But parting your thighs further, you eagerly welcome it.

He shifts lower on the bed, kissing the flesh of your navel on the way as he kisses down from your clit to your entrance. Every kiss feels like a punch with how intense his touch makes you feel.

Finally, the feel of his tongue against your entrance floods your senses. Slipping past that, he buries his tongue inside of you, making your back arch into a pretty curve for the first time that night. Gripping at his hair, you shut your eyes tight to try and maintain some semblance of control.

Not only that, but his curved, aquiline nose digs into your clit and all you wanna do is grind against it until you finally cum all over his tongue and chin.

Which, for once, doesn't seem so far away.

Your hips maneuver to match his pace, effectively riding his face even from below him. It makes him moan, the vibrations satiating a part of you that you hadn't realized went unsatisfied. You're whimpering loudly when he hums lowly to try and recreate the feeling, nearly overwhelmed.

"F-fuck, I think—" you speak before you even know what you're saying, "think 'm gonna cum—"

Humming, not daring to lift his head, Finn looks up at you in understanding. His eyes meet yours and, for the first time, you feel seen like this.

The only thing he changes is adding his thumb to your clit to control your pleasure more. His nose isn't stimulating enough, he thinks. Not when he's taking everything he can get from you.

Then, only for a second, he breathlessly mutters, "you gonna cum all over my face? Prove those assholes wrong? Come on, do it. I've got you."

The only thing more powerful than his mouth and hands are his words.

Thighs clenching and core tensing, your fingers grasp at his scalp desperately with pure, unadulterated pleasure. You can only describe it as physical relief.

Your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave, body unsure of whether to tense or relax and doing both in tandem with one another. Your mind is cloudy but your hips never stop riding his face throughout the high. He never stops, either. Tongue fucking in and out of you, thumb pressing down and circling your clit intently—it's almost overstimulating. For you, it's the perfect amount.

Head tilted back in pleasure, you let out quiet, choked out moans and sobs that would worry the man below you if it weren't for your cum coating his tongue in the same breath.

When it all subsides moments later, you feel like you'd done hard, manual labor. When the hell did orgasms feel this draining?

Finn is, otherwise, entranced. Staring up at you, watching your body recover from the crash, soothing you as he rubs up and down your thighs and hips from below.

"...Not that it's a competition, but I definitely won." He laughs, making you playfully hit his shoulder before slumping against the bed completely.

"You won when you got with me in the first place."

"Damn right." He snickers and smiles, pressing a kiss to your navel before resting his head against your stomach.

"...You're doing that for me again once I manage to breathe normally. Which might be a while. But just be prepared." You tease, absolutely lovesick as you bask in the afterglow of your orgasm.

"I know you're joking, but I literally will." He raises his eyebrows, smiling up at you as you ruffle his hair.

"Who said I was joking?"

a/n — yes the title is an ayesha erotica song. no i don't rly listen to her. yes it's all i could think abt when i was writing this <3 hope this is all u wanted and more. more finn smut incoming!!!! need that baddddd omfg

taglist: @welcomesatan @calls-sovereign @unicornkweef69 @zaylarae @veeweepeeknee @kailyndavillier @maddesolationwill @sophiamikaela13 @teacup-thoughts @rimonjinn @kunklefunkle @samomalovaa @gyattmaster2002 @cciessuzi @fwluverr @dontmentionitseriouslyy @vodka-baby @geminizmoonz @bloodytragedyblog @mikes-sorcerer @velvetaux @pissylivvie @romanroyapoligist @okayparkers @cravingforvik @kc-skye @antivenus @k-hirf-rv @lanadelrae-wrld @planetsophiet @crying2hs @babybyers08132 @skywalker987 @fleetingpulp @scturne19 @tonspresso @lexi8712 @revlayn916 @byleraisa @colettebrown088 @0nlybitt3r4may @owlwingsstuff @mattbymills @pinkie1pie @ammacrellinlover @sturngrande @minsingular @finjascherry @bl3ssedp0etry @pinkcatbow

my beautiful sexy funny unemployed gorgeous and still unemployed (me projecting) taglist i love uuuuu all!!! <3

[zombiegrains]

still thinking about how funny this line is

like, this legitimately sounds like some shit he’d say 😭

[soobinieswife]

˚⋆✰｡ˎˊ˗hmm actually… your hypothesis can be falsified

pairing: mike wheeler x popular and chemistry geek!reader

synopsis: mike had always hated the popular kids (honorable mention to the basketball team and the cheerleader squad) and everything surrounding them, or rather, everyone around them. it didn’t matter who or what was, because he wouldn’t discriminate, he hated all of them equally. they were all the same: obnoxious teenagers who thought they were better than everyone else because they were loud and stupid. that was, until he saw your presentation in chemistry class. mike fell for you instantly. and then, he realized that maybe (just maybe) everything he’d believed for years was a lie, that being popular at school doesn’t necessarily mean you were evil. you were pretty, smart, kind, and sweet. you shattered every stereotype he had ever built in his head. you were even the leader of the chemistry club. was there anything you weren’t good at? mike didn’t think so. what he did know, however, was that he was far too much of a coward to even think about talking to you. but once he told his friends about his little crush and they started coming up with some sort of super master plan, he realized he had no other choice.

wc: 20.6k words

warnings/content: mutual pining, use of y/n, reader is robin's sister, reader is not part of the cheer squad but she's popular because most of her friends are part of it, some reader's friends are character i made up, shy and awkward mike, steve and dustin have cupid complex and think they're the masterminds behind all of it, y/n and will are friends, no mentions of byler/mileven

pita's note: hiii everyone. i think i started this in march??? and it took me ages to finish it. what is funny is that this was supposed to be a 3k word fic lol. but i’m really bad at writing short stuff and i also hate the thought that i'm a reeeeeally slow writer

this is also my 1st stranger things' fanfic. that doesn't mean i'll stop writing for txt ofc1!!! (actually, i'm planning to update clause four before my birthday lol). anyways, i think this is my comeback :) i hope you enjoy it. and ofc, honorable mention to my dear friend @csbenthusiast for supporting me

"will," you called him. he kept his gaze on the paper, "are you done with it? i think i'm almost done with my task."

will was so focused on finishing his drawing that he barely paid attention to you, and that made you nervous. there was no explanation for it. he made you nervous, and it's a little embarrassing if you put it on display, because he was literally a random guy you didn't talk to until this stupid assignment came up.

it was an assignment for your literature class. you had to write a long essay about an author, including a biography and a review of two of their most famous works, along with a presentation that could generate a debate about the author. you had the whole class to yourselves. 

will and you were a duo, and he came up with the idea that making drawings would help you get a better grade. you didn't understand it at first, until you saw his art.

he was so fucking amazing.

but there was something you couldn't quite... describe. working with you made him nervous too, you felt it.

was he? maybe. you're not that familiar with him anyway. the only time he seemed comfortable was when he was with his friends.

it's not like you care.

yet you felt judged, not by him, because he's a chill person. but by his friends instead...

they were spying on you, you knew that. and you didn't understand what you'd done to deserve that. maybe that's why.

"not yet," he replied, his gaze on the paper. "i'm finishing some details."

"oh... okay," you nodded, looking at his work. "you're doing good, though. if we keep working at this pace, maybe we'll finish it in two days. maybe we should do that. i need to rehearse our presentation."

he nodded. 

working with him was awkward, and you knew it was because of you. it was the first time the teacher had sorted the groups herself, leaving you no option but to work with a random stranger instead of choosing your partner. 

you're not used to talking to people outside of your friends. you've also stayed in your comfort zone, which was easier than socializing with people. 

it was a little funny. you were known in school for being part of the so-called popular kids, yet you were so shy. your friends were the loud and extroverted ones. you were the shyest person on earth, and so was will. apparently.

a voice distracted you from your thoughts. a voice you knew so well. it was hard not to recognize.

you closed your eyes and sighed shyly as you heard him and his friend approached. you should have told will to meet at the library instead of the schoolyard. who makes their assignments here anyway?

"hey mike, hey guys," will greeted them. "what are you doing here?"

mike was about to speak, but dustin interrupted him. "we're going home now. we have to get everything settled for d&d night before lucas finishes his sidequest."

you frowned. "sidequest? which sidequest?"

the three of them glanced at you. will and dustin immediately exchanged looks, but mike froze. he looked at you like you were going to hurt him, as if he was a prey who had to run away from you as far as possible.

he always did that anyway.

"oh, nothing." dustin replied. "we just call it the thing we have to do before our d&d nights."

"he's buying a gift for max. she's his girlfriend."

"ah," you nodded, directing your gaze to your paperwork instead, pretending you still had some work to do and hoping this whole interaction would fade faster if you just ignore them.

of course you knew who max was. you've been secretly watching them from afar, and sometimes, you listen to their conversations just to catch something.

something that shows their hate towards you. you knew they judged you, and that they stared at you and your friend group during lunch.

there was no proof of it whatsoever. 

"just give us a minute, guys. we're almost finishing our deep dive into shakespearean literature. one more and we'll be free."

"will, if you want to, we can—"

"do you want to come?" dustin interrupted you.

the air shifted. your and will's eyes widened instantly.

"what?"

"i mean," he cleared his throat. "do you want to come play d&d tonight? you know, join our campaign and all that."

you held back a sharp gaze. why were they inviting you? were they scheming a nefarious plot against you?

it made you uncomfortable. they looked at you like they knew something about you. something you didn't.

which is pathetic, because they don't even know you. you've never spoken to any of them, except for jane, but that's because your parents were friends, and she seems to be a good person.

but her friends... why were they like that? 

it's been happening for a few weeks now. you didn't care at first, they were like anyone else. you're part of the popular kids, your friends were well known for being part of the cheerleading team, so it's not new for you to have people staring.

however, this was different. the party (as that's what they called themselves) looked at you like they were analyzing something, as if they were looking at something about you. as if you were an experiment or something.

but what if you go there? putting yourself in enemies' territory might not be the smartest move, yet would help to know what they're up to and stop their stupid behaviour.

they were treating you like a science project, thinking that you're oblivious and stupid. maybe they’re like most people who think that being ‘popular’ means being dumb, and by extension, that you were too. you loved the attention, and all the perks that came with surrounding yourself with friends from the cheer squad and the basketball team, but you absolutely hated those stupid stereotypes that came with it, and that ridiculous social divide, like some kind of hierarchy no one was allowed to cross. because you weren’t stupid at all, and it was obvious they would never understand that.

you were about to say yes, and agree to their plans, until you felt it. 

mike was giving you a sharp gaze, as if he could pierced you if he kept staring at you the way he did.

you've always felt he hated you with no apparent reason. among all of them, he was the one who never looked at you, but when he did, it was unbearable. 

these kids were nobodies in school, almost no one knew who they were (and the ones who knew might not even care) but you. they were considered weird for liking a board game about fantasy and being part of a group of nerds called the hellfire club. one of them wanted to be part of the basketball team, the other was friends with some people from your chemistry club, the other one is now your partner for this project, and there was michael.

michael wheeler.

there was something about him that was just so charming. you’ve never talked to him before, even though you wanted to, but you’ve been watching him from afar for a while now, knowing that nothing would ever happen between you two.

how could you talk to him in the first place? you had no idea, but now you knew you won’t. mike had been giving you weird looks since you and will got paired for this project, and you couldn’t understand why.

dustin’s invitation lit a spark inside of you, it could be a gate that led straight to talking to mike and getting to know him better, to be friends with him at least, but that little sparkle faded instantly when you saw his reaction.

he didn't want you there. it was obvious.

"no, thanks," you replied with a shy grin, trying to be polite, "i already have plans. but have fun, guys."

it wasn't a lie though, you and your sister have a ritual: going to the movies every friday, watch two films and rating them after. 

and mike's facial expression went back to normal.

"oh," will replied. "have fun then."

“how did it go? did you finally talk to her?” jane asked. 

“no, he didn’t.” dustin replied for him. “i invited her to play d&d tonight so he might have a chance, but he was staring at her so hard she declined.”

“do you think she’s the type of person who plays d&d in the first place?” mike was walking in circles around his basement, with a pace so steady dustin feared it might make a hole in the floor.

“do you know people can learn?” he snapped, losing his patience already. everyone was. 

the party was trying so hard to scheme a plan so that he could speak to you. something, anything, for you to know he exists.

and he was the only one putting no effort into it.

“yes but what if she doesn’t want to? she declined for a reason.”

will sighed, he knew what dustin was about to say, so he cut in before him. “she’s kind. i’m pretty sure she’s the type of person who can’t say no.”

“well, she did.” dustin complained. “and it is all because mister coward looked at her like she was the plague.” 

"i panicked, okay? it's not that easy for me to articulate words, especially when she's so close to me" he awkwardly admitted. it was the first time you were that close to him. he didn't know how to act, his brain wasn't working properly. he didn’t know how, or why, but every time you were at least five meters away from him was an alarm that popped up in his brain, telling him to act differently. “this was a bad idea, i shouldn't have ever told you about this. it’s better for us to stop this."

he meant it. he had been having a crush on you for months now, since he saw your presentation about the human brain at your shared chemistry class. he knew who you were: the one who gained attention so easily and had everybody around her, friends with the whole cheerleader and basketball team.

the type of people he doesn't mingle with. the obnoxious kids. 

and he was just a nerd. the low profile guy who doesn't speak to anyone outside of his friends.

or the hellfire club.

or his family.

so that's why he never noticed you, he never cared about what you did because you were just like them. a basic girl with no personality, who only cares about being popular.

but he was wrong, he realized that the day you gave that amazing presentation about neurochemicals, and you replied to every question so easily.

he's been secretly admiring you since that day, knowing damn well that you'll never notice him. that you'd never glance at him back. 

you were so smart, and funny, and charismatic, and maybe you weren't even real. perhaps, you were just part of his imagination.

and one day, he came up with the stupid idea to tell his friends about his silly crush on you, thinking that would make it go away.

if anything, it intensified it. mike thought his friends would make him come to his senses, tell him how stupid he was for even thinking about you.

they didn't.

they were amused by the idea of mike liking someone.

and they started to do the thing they knew best: planning.

the whole party started to look at you. they even managed to pair you with will for that english project. 

that was the plan, you working with will, getting closer to him and will introduce you to the rest of the party.

so mike could, at least, say hi to you.

"too late, max is already excited about the idea and she won't stop until you say hi to her," will muttered. "and i am too."

mike rolled his eyes.

"what if we just drop it–”

"no, mike. holy shit.” dustin’s knee-jerk reaction made jane flinch for a second. "we've been staring at her for weeks now. it's too late to hold back. so get over your stupid nerves and talk to her."

mike let out a big sigh as he was pacing around his basement, still thinking about how he could convince his friends to stop this.

he dug his own grave. he was ready to embarrass himself. he already knew you would judge him when he tried to speak to you.

he could picture you saying, "what makes you feel like you can talk to me?"

but how could he stop the feeling? he tried, he really tried. but as much as he tried to not feel things for you, they intensified. it seemd like you were everywhere.

because you were. 

"can we go tomorrow? it's late, and i don't think steve's going to get mad if you don't return his book today,” you put a hand on your chest as you gasped for air. “does he even read by the way? he's not the type to read." 

it was already dark, and you were extremely tired, but your sister insisted she had to return a book she had borrowed from steve almost two months ago.

she didn't know why he was being so insistent. apparently, he needed it so bad and the world was gonna end if she didn't return it.

"i know it's late and you're tired but if i don't give him his book today he'll be unbearable and you know how he is," robin replied. she was also tired.

"why are we even walking this way? i thought we had to turn to the left to go to his house."

"he's not there. jesus, he's not even at his house and he's being so obnoxious, if he cared so much he would at least be at his house."

you sighed. "where is he?"

"at a friend's house. he’s more like a babysitter of theirs, but now they're friends. the kids gather there every friday and apparently, he's there tonight."

you rolled your eyes. 

“how old are they? like five?”

“they’re your age, actually,” robin tilted her head, she just realized that now. “they even go to your school, maybe you know them. they’re funny.”

you sighed, perhaps they knew you and you knew them, but that’s not relevant. it’s not like you were trying to make new friends anyway. 

“well, here we are,” your sister stopped. “we’ll try to make this as quick as possible so we can go back home and rest a bit, okay?”

“okay.” you smiled. 

robin knocked on the door, and a blond woman greeted both of you with a smile.

you entered the house with your sister, the woman led you straight to the kitchen, where the group was gathering. 

“hey dingus,” robin called him.

oh no. 

it was the party. 

the whole party was staring at you in surprise, they weren’t expecting you. 

and there was that look. 

that damn look that made you feel like they were watching you. trying to figure you out. 

except for will and jane. they were your friends after all.

more like acquaintances, but still, they were actually the only ones with common sense in that group of weirdos. 

and mike, he was dissociating. your gut clenched.

“hi jane.” you greeted her. 

“hi y/n. i didn’t know you’d be here.”

“hi y/n,” dustin said. “what brings you here?”

“my sister has to return something to steve, and i’m just accompanying her.” you nodded, a little shy, trying to hide that you’re not really paying much attention to dustin because you only care about mike.

what was wrong with him?

“so…” steve broke the weird tension that began to linger in the room. “do you guys want to stay? we’re going to watch a movie.”

please say no. please say no. please say no. 

“no thanks, steve. we already watched two movies and we’re tired. plus,” she pointed at you, “y/n has to wake up early tomorrow morning for her chemistry club meeting, don’t you?” 

you nodded. 

robin was sensing something. they were acting differently than they used to. even steve was acting weird.

something was off.

“are you part of the chemistry club?” dustin gasped in surprise seemed to vanish all of the awkwardness and tension of the room. 

“yes,” you smiled with affection. “we gather every saturday. i’m actually trying to convince them to meet every day after school but they all have plans.”

“i didn’t know you were in it. sounds fun.” max smiled, but you couldn’t believe she was being honest.

“oh yeah,” robin lifted her brows. “she’s such a geek. she’s even writing a story about two scientists who fall in love in a lab.”

you blushed. “it’s nothing.”

“oh. do you also write?” dustin asked, and you nodded. 

he seemed to be the only one who was genuinely curious about you, but it wasn’t malicious, and that felt great. 

it was good to feel like he wasn’t judging you.

“mike’s into writing too.” steve pointed at the guy beside him with a smirk. “he’s a great storyteller. he made all of their d&d campaigns incredible, even shakespeare would be jealous of him. right, mike?”

the guy nodded in response. his gaze was anywhere but on you, it even seemed like he was uncomfortable. 

“oh… yes. uhm. i– i think i’m going to the bathroom, excuse me.”

then he left.

steve frowned. 

“well, it is better if we go,” robin interrupted.

“yes,” you nodded politely again. “see you guys. oh, and will, by the way, we can meet up next monday afternoon to work on the project, don’t you think?” 

he nodded.

a few weeks have passed, and the project with will was already over, but surprisingly, you became really good friends. hanging out with him was part of your weekly routine.

his friends were still acting weird, not as much as they used to though, but there were some times things felt odd with them.

also, jane has been reaching out to you lately. she just wanted to know how you were.

maybe she realized her friends were acting weird and that’s her way of making it up to you.

“guess who is staring, again,” your friend stacey noticed, her voice sounding tired. it was a recurring situation.

they looked away the second you lifted your gaze towards them.

“they’re weird,” she spoked again. “it’s been weeks now.”

“are they bothering you?” another friend joined the conversation, he was already looking over the party’s table. “we can put them in their place if you want to. i can call the guys and we’ll make sure they'd never bother you again.”

he was part of the basketball team, and he never played when it came to his friends, but you knew what that meant. and no, you were against any type of violence. 

“what if they’re not the threat you guys think they are,” laura, one of your friends, suggested. “what we know so far, is that they’re acting as if you were a science project or something that needs to be investigated. but what if…” she paused. “what if they’re just acting weird because one of them is into you?” 

you narrowed your eyes and tilted your head in confusion. you heard chrissy and her boyfriend jason laugh. 

“why would they do that? if that was the case, they could just talk to her. it’s not that hard to say hi,” jason pointed out the obvious. “and i swear i’m genuinely asking. i’m not being sarcastic.” 

“please, they’re nerds. they must be thinking we bite or something,” laura rolled her eyes, and everyone (you included) widened their eyes as if this was the biggest discovery of the year. 

“that actually makes sense,” jason reflected. “but still, it’s it not that hard to say hi.”

“i think it is cute,” stacey smiled. “what if they’re planning something to talk to you.”

you thought about it for a second. 

it didn’t make sense. 

it was just a coincidence. 

laura was watching too many tv shows, and she was so convincing, so you already knew your friends were believing all of that crap. but no, that’s a narrative that’s not worth believing.

“i’m pretty sure they hate me,” you took a bite of your pasta, fighting the urge to look at them again. 

unfortunately, you did. 

mike was staring, then immediately looked away. 

he was also eating pasta.

“what if they don’t,” chrissy suggested. “what if laura’s theory is true and someone’s actually into you.” 

you shook your head. it didn’t matter what they thought. “impossible. why would they do that?”

you kept your gaze locked on the party’s table, without knowing what they were talking about, but knowing for sure it must be something serious because of their faces.

however, what you didn’t know, was that they were in fact, having a serious conversation about you. mike rolled his eyes as he heard dustin condescendingly asking, “why wouldn’t we do that, mike?”

“i second that. i’m stressed,” max confessed. “we’ve already arranged too many scenarios for you to talk to her. and what do you do? nothing. you just stare at the floor, or the ceiling. anything but her face.”

“and when you look at her it's like you want her to disappear,” the thing lucas had just added felt like adding a grain of rice to a bowl full of rice, it might seem insignificant from the outside (and perhaps, it was), but it just felt like adding fuel to a fire mike never wanted to witness.

“it’s not like she bites,” will interrupted mike, who was about to open his mouth, “and, she’s just like everyone else. you have a lot in common. more than you think.”

mike widened his eyes, a little upset.

“you guys are friends now? how could you do that? you’re a traitor!” 

“a traitor?” dustin snapped. “you’re the one who’s afraid to talk to her. if anything, he’s not a traitor. if he’s a traitor, then i’m a traitor. i talked to her the other day.”

everyone nodded. they were right. 

“you have no right to say that, mike. we’ve done nothing but help you, and you’re wasting every chance you get.”

“she’s right.” lucas agreed. “i never thought i’d say this but maybe we should drop it. you’re too cowardly and awkward to look at her, this is never going to work.”

“i agree.” dustin sighed tiredly. 

and everyone agreed. 

they were right, mike thought. this was never going to work. lucas was right too, maybe he was a coward. 

he could never talk to you. what if you hate him? what if you’d laugh at him in private? what if you talked about him with your friends and they all laugh like they were doing now?

mike could hear them laughing from afar. even if they were at the other corner of the cafeteria, the noise was still audible.

he glanced at you, again. you looked happy. 

it was dumb to think you could laugh about him with your friends. he bet they don’t even know who he is. 

and that you despised him. because why wouldn’t you? he looked at you like you were the plague. you have every right to hate him. 

he just couldn’t control himself. every time he sees you, his heart starts beating as if he’s been running for miles. and something in his gut begs him to run away, to be as far away as possible from you. 

and you were so nice. 

maybe this was for the best. he knows his place, and it’s far away from you. things have to stay the way they are. 

he could always admire you from afar, while wishing for the feeling to disappear. to vanish. to go extinct. 

he could try. 

“yeah… maybe it is for the best. this was stupid anyway.”

and right when they gave up, you were in the other corner of the room, starting a secret mission. 

you were going to figure out if your friend’s theory was correct, and who was that guy if there was any. 

it wasn’t that hard. you were friends with will now, and you could reach out to jane anytime. everything was so convenient. robin was friends with steve, and steve was friends with dustin. there was also a guy in your chemistry club who was friends with dustin, and lucas was trying to get into the basketball team.  

that’s how the next few days went. you tried to talk to will as much as you could, and he willingly let you in. however, his friends weren’t judging you anymore, which was weird.

why did they stop?

maybe they already figured you out. 

or they got used to your presence. it’s not like you were with them every time, you have your own life after all, and it wasn’t your intention to make them feel uncomfortable. but the more you spent time around them, the more you started to feel that your hypothesis was wrong. 

but you couldn’t quite find what you were looking for. 

it’s been weeks now, and it seemed like you were getting along with everyone there. 

everyone but mike. 

you still felt like he was uncomfortable with your presence, like his day was instantly ruined when his eyes met yours. 

at least he could look at you now. 

was that progress?

something that did count as progress, though, was the fact that now he could be in the same room as you without feeling an overwhelming urge to run away, like right now. the two of you were in the library, you studying for your upcoming literature test (or at least trying), and him sitting with his back turned to you while reading a book.

it was ironic that the one time he could peacefully stay in the place as you happened to be when he was sitting a few feet away from you on a couch, completely unaware that you were there too.

without knowing you were staring. 

deeply staring. 

it was hard to do anything when he was near. he caught your attention like a magnet. why was he like that? he looked so normal there, sitting with a book in his hands. he even looked good. 

he looked good when he’s not close to you, looking at you like you were going to attack him. 

the thought of it upset you. 

you gave up on your studying a long time ago. you kept staring for twenty minutes without him realizing.

it doesn’t matter, he would never look at you anyway. he never did. 

if anything, he hates you. 

but this has to end. it can’t be like this forever. 

you just have to know why, and then move on.

so when he stood up and grabbed his bag, almost ready to leave, you knew that was the perfect moment. you were nervous, yes, but that didn't stop you from taking every inch of bravery inside your body and standing up, following him. 

he opened the door, completely oblivious to the fact that you were behind him. his pace was fast, and you were almost sprinting to catch up. and when you did, you grabbed him by the shoulder.

he turned around.

“why do you hate me?”

the question came out like a reflex, making you regret it instantly.

he widened his eyes, and stepped back a little. “w–what?” 

his heart started beating fast, but he couldn’t bring himself to give you a cold look. he just couldn’t, as much as he tried, he just couldn’t. 

mike felt exposed.

and confused. 

“don’t act like you don’t know,” your gaze locked into his. you didn’t know how, but you were being brave. 

“i know you don’t like me, wheeler. and i want to know why. i haven’t done anything wrong for you to look at me the way you do, and act like i was the most horrible thing on earth. i’m tired of it.” 

he went quiet.

he just managed to look at you. 

was this true? you, asking him why he doesn’t talk to you? 

he doesn’t hate you. he could never hate you. he can’t believe you paid attention to him. 

you cared? 

was this a trap?

this was a trap.

it had to be.

“aren’t you going to talk?” you crossed your arms. “i asked you one thing. i know you hate me. and i want to know. why.” 

“n–no.” was all he said. 

“n–no?” you repeated with your heart almost exploding, but surprisingly steady. “just tell me why.”

“i don’t hate you,” he confessed. 

nothing else. 

you started to grow anxious. maybe you were exaggerating everything, and you’re just not that important to him. he looks like a shy guy anyway. and you weren’t respecting his personal space.

yes, it must be that. you don't know why the party was so amused with you, staring at you during breaks, classes, and anytime they possibly could while thinking you were so dumb you wouldn’t realize they were doing it. 

but now you know, that mike was the only one who didn't care about you. he never looked at you, he tried to avoid you at all cost. 

and it was funny, because as much as you wanted the group to leave you out of whatever was going on, you also wanted him to look at you.

you felt stupid for thinking there was something hidden. he said it, he doesn't hate you. and the look on his face shows how surprised he is over your question.

he was surprised because you're not even a thought to him. as much as you have friends in common, you were nothing to him. but it didn't matter. you'd react the same way if a stranger approached you and asked you, with a weird and dominant tone, why you hate them.

“okay…” your voice was low, and defeated. every sign of bravery inside you slipped away as fast as it got there in the first place. “sorry… this… this was stupid. sorry.” 

something inside his heart broke. 

he couldn't know what was going on in your mind, but he didn’t want you to feel like this. not now that you know about him. 

not now that he knows he’s been making you feel bad for the past couple weeks. wasn’t he?

were you really feeling like that?

“i don’t hate you,” he repeated. “i’m sorry for being such an asshole.”

you didn’t reply. you came back to your usual shyness. 

“i just never thought you’d care.”

you lifted your gaze to him. 

“why wouldn’t i? what kind of girl do you think i am?” that was a rhetorical question, you didn’t let him reply. “i’ve been talking to your friends for the last few weeks, and they all seemed to be nice to me. they’re always talking about you and how amazing you are and that we have a lot in common. they always say you’re the nicest person, but you’ve never shown that to me.”

the expression on his face was unreadable. what was he thinking? he’s like a book you cannot read, like a mystery you cannot solve. 

mike, instead, was amused. 

he felt strange, and embarrassed. and guilty.

Especially guilty. 

you wanted him to talk to you? 

you. y/n. the brightest person in the world. 

someone so out of his league.

someone perfect.

you continued. “i also got this weird feeling, that everything’s a trap and that you all hate me. you guys don’t do that anymore, but your friends used to look at me like i was a freak, like i’m a monster. a weird stupid science project you have to investigate. do you all hate me?”

what?

why would you ever think that? he thought. mike knew that he and his friends could be a little intense when they had something on their minds, but the plan was never to make you feel uncomfortable.

“no. no, y/n. it’s not like that, i swear. if anything, you’re not a freak. they actually like you.” 

“well, it doesn’t seem like it.” 

he sighed. 

it was now or never. 

he could just pretend none of this happened and move on. he'll hear you laugh, mock him and he'll be rejected. that's how it is supposed to be. that's how life works.

if he tells you the truth, then you won't feel bad about this and you'd move on.

“sorry, y/n." he began. "you’re not a freak, you’re not a monster. you’re none of that. and we don’t hate you, i… i just.” he paused, reconsidering whether or not he should do this. “they were acting like that because they were helping me. i wanted to talk to you so badly but i didn't know how and they were helping. but i get nervous whenever i’m close to you, and i’m sorry. i can’t control it. i just feel like you’re so amazing, and so smart and so pretty that i—”

“wait,” you interrupted him, shocked. “what are you trying to say is that you like me?”

his heart stopped beating for a second, and his stomach began to ache.

you figured it out fast.

he didn’t want you to know that. 

he wanted to disappear. he wanted this to be a dream.

“do you hate me for it?”

no, you wouldn't. all of this was shocking. 

you crossed your arms, looking at the floor to hide the pink shade growing on your cheeks. 

was it really that? 

that was… cute.

no, it wasn’t. 

you’d never thought about that being possible, because you liked him too. in a weird way, but you did. 

did you? no, you didn’t. you were just attracted to him because he was interesting but you would never like him. the thought of him ignoring you was awful. why would you like someone like that? 

no, no, no. you didn’t, and he didn’t say it explicitly, so maybe he doesn’t like you. he just asked if you’d hate him for it.

no.

no. no. no.

but the words that came out of your mouth betrayed you. your brain was betraying you. 

“why would i hate you? i think it’s cute.”

he also blushed. the feeling growing in his chest was something impossible to describe. 

you didn’t laugh. 

you didn’t embarrass him for liking you. you even… got nervous?

what did all of that mean? 

at least you didn't laugh. he had dreamed of this moment so, so, so many times, and you rejected him in every one of them. 

he knew that's what was going to happen now, but he didn't expect you to not laugh. 

“i… i… gotta go.” you muttered with embarrassment in your voice, confused about everything. “see you around i guess.”

and you started running. 

was that a good sign? 

what did that mean?

“WHAT?” lucas yelled at mike. all of his friends wanted to scream. “so you’re telling me, that she liked you this whole time?”

the boy lowered his head out of embarrassment. this whole situation was humbling. 

telling his friends, in the first place, was something that humbled him. telling them to drop the plan they carefully schemed for him was something else. but telling them about what happened a few hours ago?

it felt like he dug his own grave. he knew how they’d react. they might feel like all the effort they’ve put into their plan was wasted. and for what? you made the first move. 

they’ve spent weeks trying and begging mike to make a move. and you did it as fast as someone could snap their fingers. 

mike didn’t know in which part of his brain he should put this encounter. did it belong to the good memories? because it was definitely the highlight of his day. his week. even his month. 

or should this be a one time thing? something that his short term memory should hold until it's eventually forgotten? 

maybe you’re too bad at rejecting people and you just felt the urge to run away. 

mike suspected that a lot of people came to you every single day to confess their love to you. and if that wasn’t the case, then it was impossible because who wouldn’t fall for you?

you might be used to it. he wasn't special.

“we don’t know if she likes him or not,” dustin warned. 

“at least she got the nerve,” jane said. “our friend right here got us juggling for months, all of that for nothing.”

mike snorted. “maybe we should forget this—”

“again, mike? seriously?” will interrupted him, completely pissed. “it feels like you don’t care. even she cares about you. you’re the one pushing her away!”

"i'm not—"

"yes, you are," dustin interrupted. "but still, we don't know what that meant, so i think it's better if we resume our plan. let's find out what she thinks about you, so you can make a move and be with her."

mike was scared.

deeply.

"she knows it," mike warned, settling into the couch he was already seated on, as if doing that would make him become one with the it, and make this whole situation eventually go away. "she doesn't know about the plan, but i told her that you were helping me. and she knew it. she felt observed by you. she thinks we look at her like she's a monster, or a science project."

no one talked. will exchanged looks with dustin and max.

"okay. maybe we went too far with this," dustin confessed. "what should we do now?"

"have you ever thought about asking her how she feels?" will suggested. "i can do that. we're friends. and maybe she's right, maybe we are a little too obsessed with her."

"it’s going to work if mr. shyness isn’t doing his part." max noted. "what's the point of doing all of this if he's going to run away?"

"hey, she was the one who ran away first." lucas argued.

"yes, but it was because she was afraid. it was too much for her," will replied.

"how do you even know that?"

"i'm just guessing, lucas."

"we are here to help mike."

"yes, but that's not going to work if he keeps being insecure."

"what do you even know, will?"

"stop fighting!" mike raised his voice. "maybe she just ran away because she doesn't like me. i never said that i like her, at least, not explicitly. but what if she ran away because she didn't want me to say that? that's a big possibility. huge, actually. she will never look at me like that, and i'm just being a fool for thinking otherwise."

will sighed.

"you'll never know if you don't try."

"are you that good at math?" will asked you with a grin. it was his new discovery. "i'd never have suspected that. is there something you are not good at?"

you blushed. "it's not like i'm good, good. i just studied harder this time. actually, i was completely sucking at it. if i didn't pass this test i assure you i wouldn't be here because my parents would’ve killed me."

it flattered you. you weren't the brightest mind of your generation. you considered yourself an average person who doesn't stand out from the rest, except when it comes to chemistry, of course.

the only thing that, perhaps, made you special was the fact that you were popular. your friend group was full of people who excelled at everything, so it wasn't that hard to think that you were perfect. even your parents thought that. they've always put too much pressure on you.

but still, that wasn't the case. and being friends with will was somehow... liberating, you felt like he didn't expect anything.

it's not like you told him everything anyway. and you knew perfectly well it went both ways. he hid the fact that mike...

whatever mike was.

did will know about what happened the other day? maybe not. if that was the case, you bet he wouldn't be as nice as he always was.

if will knew about that, would he be mad at you?

why would he be mad at you?

what was mike feeling? 

and what were you feeling?

the thought of mike liking you lingered in your mind for the whole weekend. you wanted to keep it a secret, but the anxiety inside of you was growing so much that it wasn’t hard for your sister to notice that something was off.

robin was just as surprised as you, until she started connecting the dots.

the first thing robin remembered was steve being so annoying over a book he never read, and insisting on them coming to mike's house.

when she saw mike's reaction that evening, the obvious thing was to suspect that he disliked you. but now it made sense. mike wheeler is not the type to run away. if he'd disliked you, then he would have shown it.

he wouldn’t admit people he hates in his house. 

another clue was the way his friends looked at you the whole time.

robin confirmed it. it didn't take a genius to know that.

but shit got real when you both went to steve's house, and pushed him to confess the truth.

he even told you about their plan. the plan he was part of. at some point.

was all of that for you?

why would someone go this far for you?

it's not like they went too far though (or not as much as they could have if mike weren’t so shy and actually made a move. dustin was already planning your first date, where mike was supposed to take you to a chemistry exhibition), they just stared at you. but still, no one had ever done that to you.

was mike that into you?

it was cute. maybe in a creepy way, but still cute.

it's like one of those movies where a guy has a crush and he and his friends do everything they can for her to like him.

but he wouldn't talk to you. would he?

you wish you could tell will. or at least someone more neutral, because you knew he was mike's friend after all.

and telling someone that you've run away after somebody implicitly told you he likes you was... a little embarrassing.

especially to friends of mike. 

you haven’t had the chance to talk to him. you wanted to talk before class, but he missed the first period. then you saw him entering the hallway, but he vanished the minute he saw you.

a part of you liked that. a part of you wanted that because you were too cowardly to encounter him. 

what would you say anyway? nothing. there was nothing on your mind. you just wanted to be close to him. to look at his pretty face.

you could stare at his face for hours without getting bored of it. you’ve already done that, but this time would be different. 

the past few times you stared at him were because you wanted to figure him out, because he was hiding something. 

and now… you just wanted to look at him to memorize his face. 

he’s pretty. 

but you were too awkward for that. you knew you’d run away if he had the intention to approach you. you weren’t better than him. 

you looked at your friend, who was too focused on drawing. you gathered at the school quad for lunch, and for him to teach you how to draw.

you sucked at it he almost gave up.

“hey, will.” he lifted up his gaze. “do you consider yourself an introvert or an extrovert?”

he tilted his head. “i’d never thought about it, actually. and introvert? perhaps. why? are you an extrovert?”

how could you ask for advice without being too obvious?

“i don’t know. everyone might assume i’m an extrovert but in reality i’m really shy. actually, i don’t know how to begin conversations as much as i want to talk.”

was it too obvious that you were trying to ask him how to start a conversation with his best friend? 

he smiled in confusion. “aren’t we having a conversation now?” 

you shook your head. “that’s not what i meant. i mean, sometimes i get nervous when i see someone i don’t talk to but i want to. it’s complicated, because what if he hates me?” you were too focused on your words that you didn’t notice will’s facial expressions when you dropped that pronoun. “or maybe he’s afraid of me because he thinks i’m a monster. maybe i gave him the wrong impression, or i just– he just. ugh.  it doesn’t matter. i’m a coward. i bet i’d run if he gets close to me. maybe i should forget it.”  

“oh…”

“oh?” you repeated. “what does ‘oh’ mean?”

he laughed. 

“i don’t know, i’ve never had a crush on someone. but i don’t think this has to do with you being shy, maybe you just like someone.”

you frowned. “i never said i like someone. i just said i don’t know how to act when someone is near, which is stupid because he’s anywhere but near to me, and even if he was–”

you shut your mouth. 

dustin and lucas were walking towards you. 

with mike. 

he didn’t see you, he wasn’t paying attention, he looked distracted. 

and you were right. the first thing you’d do if he gets near you is to run.

there were mixed feelings stuck in your core, because a part of you wanted to flee from this, and the other one couldn’t help but look at him. 

he looked even better while he was distracted. 

“i– gotta go.” you stood up as fast as you could, grabbing your things. “i forgot that– i have to– i… see you at lunch.” 

you ran. 

hopefully, there was a tree where you could hide and watch him from afar, hoping they didn’t see you, and that will didn’t suspect anything.

the boys’ voices weren’t as loud as you wished they were, but you were trying your best to hear their conversation. 

mike was there, looking good and smiling at something dustin said. he was in his natural form anyway. looking at the people he loves the way he’d never look at you. 

you wished he did. 

you sat on the floor, running a hand through your hair. you knew you were ruining your clothes while sitting on wet grass and that your parents might get upset because they've just bought you that pair of jeans, but you didn't care. you wanted to see them, to hear what they were saying.

d&d? physics?

oh.

"please, will. you're the one who's always insisting on playing d&d. why are you skipping it this time?" 

he sighed.

"i don't know if you guys remember, but we have a chemistry test next week. and it's hard."

mike crossed his arms, blushing as he turned his head to avoid everyone's gaze.

"why don't you ask y/n for help?" lucas smiled as he raised his brows. "i bet mike will be glad to join you."

something moved inside your stomach. their conversation wasn’t audible enough, but you recognized your name. they were talking about you, and mike had his back turned. you were sure he was frowning, rolling his eyes as the mere idea of spending time with you would bother him.

"i was thinking of that. but i literally know nothing and it'd be embarrassing. she'd talk about hard topics and i barely know what electron configuration is." he paused, looking at mike. "maybe you could talk to her."

"no." he snapped fast. "it's awkward."

dustin rolled his eyes. and lucas asked "dude, can you recall what her reaction was the other day? she doesn't hate you."

will knew he had to keep quiet. y/n was his friend after all, and he wasn't the type to spill his friends' secrets.

but mike was his best friend.

and he was tired of him being a coward.

"maybe she likes you," he cleared his throat, grabbing everyone's attention.

god, will felt so guilty, he couldn't believe he was betraying his friend.

it was for the better.

it was better to trust the bigger picture. right?

“she was here before you,” he continued. “she told me she wanted to talk to a guy, but every time he’s around she gets nervous and doesn’t know how to act. she literally said she’d run away if she saw him.” he glanced at mike. “and then she did exactly that before you guys showed up.”

it wasn't that hard to figure out. she did it twice. 

it was obvious. it was him.

thank god you weren't listening to any of this.

dustin smiled. "dude, that means something."

mike's heart skipped a beat for a second. you wanted to talk to him. maybe you were feeling the same.

how could that happen?

maybe it was time to stop being so afraid of rejection. you're not gonna reject him, he didn't know what you were going to do, but he knew you weren't. 

it was time to stop acting like a coward, and face his feelings.

there was a little chance that things could work. 

but every ounce of faith vanished when he heard a guy saying "yo, y/n."

why was he calling your name? you weren’t even there.

on the other hand, you closed your eyes and put both hands on your head, pretending that would make you invisible.

it was jason and his stupid friend walking towards you. the guys don't have to know you were spying on them, and you didn’t want to know what they’d think if they knew.

you put a finger on your mouth, signaling for them to shut up while you tried to walk away in a squatting position, without being noticed.

but you stumbled over a branch, and eventually fell.

god, they saw you. you saw mike's eyes widen.

jason and his friend approached you while you were standing up. you cleaned your clothes and a sigh came out of your mouth.

"what were you doing there on the floor? the girls and i have been looking for you for thirty minutes now."

your heart was beating fast. they were watching.

"see, let me introduce you to my new friend, he–"

but you didn't let him finish, you just stuttered "ni–nice hat." and then ran. 

for the third time now.

god, what was wrong with you?

the party saw everything. it was the first time they saw you that nervous, different from the confident girl they were used to.

mike couldn’t hear what you were talking about, but he remembered will's words from minutes ago.

“she gets nervous and doesn’t know how to act. she literally said she’d run away if she saw him. and then she did exactly that before you guys showed up.”

maybe he wasn't the one you liked.

of course he wasn't. 

why would he?

"why don't you tell him the truth?" steve suggested behind the counter.

you came to the mall to see your sister and rant about what happened today. everyone knew you were a little (too much, actually) shy, but not the type to act like a fool and run away from your problems. your behaviour was different, this wasn't normal and you couldn't understand why. so you hoped your sister could.

and seeing your sister at work also meant seeing steve. you guys get along, you're not particularly close, but he's good when it comes to giving advice.

the fact that he was also friends with dustin made it 100% better. he said he doesn't want to be part of it and act like a spy, but after seeing robin's face, he knew he had no choice.

dustin was insistent before. he wanted steve to help the party, but it faded quickly, and steve was sure that he wouldn't be part of it.

but now he was.

"what truth?" you put your fist under your chin.

"that you like him."

"i don't know if i like him," you responded a little embarrassed. "and i saw him today, entering the school's hallway. he acted like he saw a ghost and ran. what if he despises me?"

"trust me, he doesn't."

robin rolled her eyes. "then why is he acting like that? y/n barely knew he existed till last week, but we know mike. you know he's not the type to do that."

they looked at you, and you shook your head.

"no, it's not like that. i've been watching him even before they started to investigate me. i 

dare to say that i’ve been watching him since he joined the hellfire club. because he looks sexy in that shirt and all that stuff, you know.” 

both steve and robin raised their brows in disbelief and then looked at each other. none of them imagined you’d say that. 

“oh, please. you cannot tell me he doesn’t look good, don’t even dare to say it.” you threatened them. “like i was saying. he was the only one not paying attention to me and that made me curious. i've been tracking his moves in silence, and i didn't want to tell anyone because i'd look crazy."

steve's lips flatten into a thin line, while his eyelids tightened and pupils focused. he sighed. “you know, i would rather tell you that you’re crazy, but i’ll say that their plan didn't actually work because michael didn't make any move. and we're not going to repeat that now. so, y/n." he called you. "we can't help you with this if you keep running every time you see him."

"what should i do then?"

"face it?" he asked, as if it was the most obvious thing.

"hey, dingus. don't be condescending," robin mumbled. “she already knows.”

"sorry, but it's frustrating. you're so obsessed with each other but you're so coy, and it's frustrating."

"and how can i do that, mr. know-it-all when it comes to love? a pretty guy saw me acting like a fool and embarrassing myself. what should i do? go to him and tell him that i like him like it's easy?"

“uh. yes.”

“no!”

a girl behind your back cleared her throat, she wanted to order. you moved to the side while steve was serving her some ice cream.

before leaving, she looked you straight in the eyes and murmured “if i was you. i wouldn’t hide. that boy is crazy for you.”

“see?” steve pointed the palm of his hand towards the path the girl (who now was nowhere to be seen) followed. “even that stranger agreed.”

it was a cold morning, the coldest morning in a long time, and you were still half asleep, all you wished by now was to be resting in your bed instead of staring at your locker thinking about what to do today. 

or how to do it today. 

you listened to steve’s words. you were going to talk to mike and tell him what’s going on. everything happened so fast the other day, and so unconsciously. but today was a new day to start. 

except, you wanted to bury your face in the ground. 

sigh. 

you closed the locker’s door and walked alone towards the classroom. you didn’t know where your friends were, but you assumed they were late.

there weren’t too many people in the classroom, so it wasn’t hard to notice that lucas and dustin were there. that made it a hundred times worse, you haven’t seen them since the day they saw you stumble to the ground and then run away. 

even if they aren’t aware of mike’s situation, it was still embarrassing. and with mike in the picture? unbearable. 

mike. 

your stomach started to ache. he was going to enter through that door at any moment, and you won’t be able to run as you did before. 

worse, you knew you had to approach him after class and ask him if he wanted to talk. 

how are you going to pay attention in class under those circumstances? 

you didn’t. you were making doodles for a whole hour, and after a huge debate with your own head, you decided that you’ll talk to him at the end of the day. 

it’s not going to be that uncomfortable if you make it that way. doesn’t matter what he says, the possibility of going home to cry while hugging a pillow was always there. 

the fact that he was participating in every class today wasn’t helpful at all, it was like he made it on purpose. like he wanted to be known. 

he used to be invisible to you, now you couldn’t stand this. 

you also couldn’t stand your friend saying “i told you so” during lunch. you weren’t sure if he liked you or not.

mike said some things the other day, but he never said it directly to your face. dif it count? 

did he know that you were watching him too? hopefully not. you managed the art of being invisible while everyone was looking at you. 

at lunch, he wasn’t even staring at you, neither his friends nor will. you were the one looking at them, and that was, somehow… concerning. 

“hey.” your friend put her hand on your shoulder. “it’ll be okay. trust me.”

but you weren’t that confident. 

the bell rang, and with that the day was over, yet your day was barely starting. 

you wanted to puke. you knew you were going to puke if you don’t run. 

it was a risk you had to take, you thought. the worst thing that could happen was to throw up on his face. but why were you thinking those things? you were better than that. 

so you walked through the hallway, looking for him, with some kind of confidence. you tried to mimic the way you acted the other day, but everything faded away when you saw him. 

he was with his friends. 

that’s the most embarrassing thing. how are you going to be able to go there and ask, “can we talk?”

it was time to abort the mission. to go home crying and forgetting everything. 

you were going to lay your head on your locker, until you saw them walking away towards the quad. fine, he was going to stay at school a little longer. good. 

it didn’t take them too much time to leave, but you did take your time to walk out. each step you took made you feel like your legs were made of lead. so heavy as you got near them. 

he was outside. with his friends.

they weren't aware of your presence, yet. however, you couldn't help but stop your steady pacing and hide behind a pillar to peep at him.

mike looked adorable, smiling amicably at something you couldn't quite hear, but you were dying to know. everyone seemed happy.

you closed your eyes and sighed, mentally preparing yourself for what was coming.

let´s make this quick.

so you stepped forward.

mike was the first one who laid his eyes on you, and quit eye contact as quickly as possible. as if looking at you was something he had forbidden. something that could not happen in any universe.

he was surprised, and so were his friends, except for will.

"oh. hi, y/n." he greeted you with a grin. "didn't know you were here."

"hi, will." you greeted him demurely. then, turning your gaze to mike, you asked with fake confidence even people who were miles away from you would notice. "hey. uhm, can we talk?"

as much as he was good at hiding it, mike froze, at the same time his heart started beating faster.

"uh... sure." he stood up and went straight to you.

you both left his friends behind. you wanted to be in a place that was as private as possible, but didn't know exactly where.

"where are we going?" he put his hands in his pockets.

"i don't know," you replied embarrassed, then stopped and turned to him. you had already moved away from acquaintances and were standing in front of school. there were still people there. "do you want to take a walk?"

mike nodded.

he couldn't believe this was real. you wanted to talk, and also walk. how is he supposed to feel about this? it was hard to know. he wasn't even aware of what you wanted, and he already felt miserable for having believed that he might have a chance with you, that there was a universe where you actually looked at him.

at least you know who he is. he could live with that. he was content with it. there was no need for more.

however, his heart couldn't agree with him. it was beating fast, and each and every organ was twisting inside his body. he tried to convince himself it wasn't that deep, but maybe it was.

you confronted him the other day, wanting to know why he ignores you every time you're near. he indirectly confessed to you. and you haven't spoken since.

it was that deep.

and the fact that you weren't speaking was on the verge of sending him straight to a coma. maybe he'd die right there from a heart attack. 

you weren't that different from him either, hugging your stomach with your arms. there were a few people on the streets, you didn't know them whatsoever. 

there was a square in the front. you decided to go there and sit on the swings. 

mike's eyes were focused on you. his hands were attached to the swing ropes, as if holding them there would also hold him from breaking apart. 

"well," you started without looking at him. "i've been having a debate inside my mind that then turned into a war about whether i should or shouldn't do this. but i won't be okay until i do. it's... it's just." you sighed. "i don't know how to say this."

nothing but silence. he didn't reply, and you assumed he wanted you to finish the idea.

so you continued. "uhm. first of all, i think i should apologize for the way i talked to you the other day. that was wrong, i know, and i shouldn't have done that. i'm sorry. i regret treating you like that, i know i shouldn't have and i won't do it again."

"oh." he muttered in surprise, his eyes still focused on you, debating if this was real or not. "don't worry y/n, i shouldn't have been so cold either. i shouldn't have let my friends peep at you and stalk you like you were a brand new topic. i'm sorry."

the truth was that it upset him a little. he knew he shouldn't, but he'd let that happen every time if that meant you treating him like that, everything was acceptable if it means being near you. 

or being seen by you.

what was also true, was the fact that he regretted doing all that. if it wasn't for him telling his friends that he had a little crush on you, then you wouldn't have approached him like you did the other day.

you wouldn't even be having this conversation. 

but that'd be better.

he shouldn't have started it in the first place. it was stupid. and now he knew that it was better not to tell anyone whenever he had feelings for somebody.

you should be rejecting him by now. why were you taking so long to do it? 

mike thought you were searching for the right words. how could he know, it was the first time he saw you like this, full of shyness and nervousness. 

“it was a mistake. a tremendous mistake and it’ll never happen again. i’ll make sure of it.”

fidgeting with your fingers was the most entertaining activity right now, it kept you grounded, connected to reality. your mind tried to focus on the ground, as if watching the grass below you might fill you with courage, but feeling his gaze on you was shaking every belief you had. 

mike was finally looking at you, seeing you. 

giving you the attention you craved for weeks. 

but you wanted to bury your face in the ground and hide from the truth, because confessing it was odd. 

“do you regret that?” you finally looked at him with a sigh coming out of your lips. “i mean, you wish you never told them stuff?”

mike didn’t reply, he just thought about it. it wasn’t something he had to think about, because he already knew the answer. he just didn’t know if it would be the right idea to tell you the truth. 

he did regret that, of course he did. mike wouldn’t lie if he said that you approaching him the other day was the best thing that had ever happened to him in his life, and he knew that it wouldn’t have been possible if it weren’t for his friends. but he also felt guilty. 

he knew he made you uncomfortable. and all of this was embarrassing as hell. 

so yes, it’d be better if all of this had never happened. you came from two different worlds. 

he was about to speak, until you asked it. 

"do you like me?"

his whole body froze at your words. even though he mumbled a lot of things the other day, he never told you directly. however, it was so obvious, taht he thought you already knew. 

this moment was so humbling. what if you knew and you just wanted to laugh?

mike hated the fact that all of his confidence disappeared.

"uh— no?" 

your heart broke. you could feel your entire body tightening, as if there were tree roots moving, gripping all over your body like they wanted to suffocate you, until you ran out of air. 

this was useless. 

you could say “okay,” stand up from that swing and go home to cry, then go to school the day after and pretend nothing happened, avoiding michael till the day you die. graduation wasn’t that far away after all. you’ll never see him again after that. 

you’ll never see him after that. 

and that was the exact same reason that doing all of this wouldn’t matter in the future. 

that, and the fact that if you didn’t do it, you’ll have had steve getting on your nerves. 

“well. bad for me because i do.” you finally confessed, a little mad at his answer.

that heavy feeling lifted from your body. it wasn’t that bad. it might be humbling but at least you said it. 

“what?” mike’s expression was unreadable, and that was frustrating. 

you sighed, closing your eyes while trying to keep your calm. 

it was time to confess. 

"i know it must be crazy, because we don't talk. we've never talked before, but i just– i just–" you stuttered, voice shaking. "i just– ugh. i don't know, michael. i– i don't know when it happened. maybe i was curious about you. i don't know. i swear i don't."

you swallowed with your eyes closed, it's like you were unable to open them after all you spilled. your stomach was heavy, as if there were metal clubs inside of you.

your whole body felt ponderous.

and mike's silence wasn't helping. at all.

so you had to continue. it didn't matter that you hated embarrassing yourself and you knew you might will, but you had to continue.

"i can't stop thinking about you. and it drives me so fucking crazy, so much that i think i might hate you, but i really don’t. i don't understand why i feel this, you've literally never paid attention to me and that was all i've been wanting for the past few weeks and i don't get it. i really don't get it." you finally opened your eyes. something inside of you changed, and now you just wanted to spill the truth. to get this feeling out of your chest, out of yourself. “i think you deserve to know this. if i didn't tell you this i'm pretty sure it would stick into my bones like a disease. and i can't stand this. if you don't like me that's okay, we can pretend that nothing happened, but... i don't know. just don't act like you despise me every time we are in the same room. just... i don't know. just ignore me."

despite the common belief, you were a shy person. from the outside it might look like you're not because of how popular you were, but that's simply because of your friends. they were the ones who'd always helped you when it came to socializing with people. 

and sure, you can talk to others, it is not like you can't. but  that happens only if you don't care that much about them.

you get so awkward when you want people to like you.

“i think i might go to a cardiologist… oh god.” you let out a big sigh, without believing that all of those words came out of your mouth. “i can’t believe i said all of this. so– sorry. i just thought you deserved to know.”

mike wanted to slap himself in the face, or pinch himself, or throw a bucket of ice on his head. whatever could wake him up from this fantasy.

was this real? this wasn't a dream? was this some kind of prank? did his friends tell her to do this? 

“ca–can you repeat it?” 

your brows almost became one from how much you frowned. 

“what? wasn’t i clear?”

“no. i mean– yes. but… but i, i. i never thought you’d feel that way about me.” he confessed. “this thing,” he was about to point at himself and then you, but then he felt like he wasn’t supposed to do that, there was nothing between you and him. “i mean, you know. you liking me, it was something that only happened in my head, like, all the time. and i convinced myself that it could never happen in real life.”

“so you lied to me before?”

“yes. but… it was only because i thought you’d laugh. that you’d tell me to never look at you again.”

you smiled. your whole body was a mix of euphoria and warmth. as if there could be calm and also fireworks happening.

steve was right. your friends were right. everyone was right but you. and you didn't mind that mike lied to you because you'd do the same if he asked you.

“why would i do that?”

that question lingered in mike’s head that he thought it could be. 

"i... don't know. i guess i was intimidated and i thought you'd never see me like that." he looked at you straight in the eye. you finally made eye contact for more than two seconds. "i mean, we've never talked and i'm pretty sure you didn't know i existed a few months ago."

you tilted your head in disbelief.

"and i thought you liked someone else. that guy your friend introduced you to, and you said "nice hat" before running away."

"what makes you think i'd like him?" you raised your brows with a smile on your face.

shit.

mike was trapped. he couldn't expose will, that's not what friends do.

"uh... you looked nervous around him?" he tried to answer. but the way he talked seemed more like a question rather than a statement. 

you shook your head.

"god, you're so cute."

knock knock.

holly opened the door and widened her eyes. you froze, you should've known she might be there.

that was awkward.

"y/n?" she glanced at you in surprise, lifting her eyebrows. "what are you doing here? how did you know where i live?"

"oh. holly..." you grinned uncomfortably, feeling your cheeks go pink. "what–  what are you doing here?"

jesus. were you really asking that?

"uh... i live here?" she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

"oh. right." you blinked, trying not to make the situation more uncomfortable than it actually was. "is mike here, by any chance?"

of course he was there. you both agreed to meet at his house. you were picking him up to go out.

on a date. 

she flickered in disbelief. "mike? like, my brother mike?"

"yes?" you asked hesitantly.

holly didn't expect you to come to her house asking for her brother, she almost felt like she was in a trap, because everything she might say or every facial expression she made will eventually turn out to expose mike. she knew that. but before she could open her mouth, he showed up beside her, with a sheepish expression.

"hi." mike let out a sigh in relief. warmth climbed up his neck, spreading across his cheeks.  

"hi," you responded the same way.

"hi, mike." holly lifted her eyebrows and smirked. "it seems like you have visitors."

both of you didn't pay that much attention to her. you were so busy exchanging looks. you smiled at him. he looked so pretty, wearing a striped vest, with his hair purposely messy.

until he realized his sister was there, staring at both of you.

"oh, yeah." he cleared his throat. "see, holly, this is y/n. and y/n, this is–"

"don't worry, mike. we know each other." holly's eyes diverted between you and him.

"oh."

"ah. yeah." you smiled, looking at the girl. "how's everything going, holly?"

"fine, all good." she nodded, comfortably. then added, "what about you, y/n. how's everything going with that boy that you like, any news?"

she really didn't mean to ask that, she asked it out of curiosity, before realizing how inappropriate it was. mike's feelings will crash and she'll be the only one to blame.

"i think everything's going well," you replied flustered. something inside holly switched, making her feel like there were things she didn't know.

was she spiraling? was she seeing things that weren't there?

she was definitely missing something, she realized the minute she saw her brother's expression. he was surprised, but it wasn't in a bad way, and that confused her, because if something bad was going on, he'd look uncomfortable. 

she just changed the subject. "why didn't you guys tell me you know each other? are you guys friends?"

"uh... something like that." he answered quickly, clearing his throat as if that could make his mouth stop being so dry. "well, holly, we're going. i'll be back later."

"bye holly." you waved at her.

you let out a big sigh once you and mike were a few steps away from his house. that was a little awkward and the tension was very palpable. you hope that holly won't ask you why you didn't tell her that you like her brother. it was almost like a betrayal, she spent all these weeks helping you and listening to you talking about him.

is not like her help worked anyway, yet she was there, and that's what mattered.

"how do you know holly?"

"oh. my sister works at this ice cream shop and holly goes almost everyday. we eventually started talking, i can say we became friends? but most of our conversations are gossip about her classmates. you would be surprised by how much i know about middle school kids i've never seen in my life."

"so she knew about me?"

"not quite," you shook your head. "i knew she's your sister and i didn't want you to know, so i just told her i had a crush on someone and i didn't know how to start conversations. she's cute. she wanted to start a secret mission for me to approach you." you frowned, realizing something. "what's wrong with you guys and planning? why does everything have to be a super secret mission?"

mike laughed. and you thought that was the cutest sound you've ever heard in your whole life.

you smiled.

you really wanted to hold his hand, but you shook your head at the thought and looked at the other side with your arms crossed and your cheeks slightly pink. 

"whatever you're doing, it's working. whether it is a plan or not.” you were about to say ‘cause i like you, by the way’ but that’d be too much for your nervous system. 

after saying that, you decided to change the conversation’s topic to a debate on what to do or where to go. it was a date, yes, but there was no plan at all. 

funny for a person who always has a plan under his sleeve to not have a plan. but in mike’s defense, you said you were going to decide what to do today. 

so his heart did a weird twist when you admitted you didn’t know where to go. that’s not how he’ve imagined his first date with you. 

he had never imagined it'd be possible for him to go on a date with you in the first place. 

regardless of what you told him, you did have a plan, but it’d be too awkward to admit out loud, that you took all of your savings because you wanted to go to the lake and rent a mini boat for the both of you. 

that’d be too much? you didn’t want him to think that maybe you were doing too much, that you were that obsessed with him or something.

so the best card to play was to be nonchalant. 

"what about renting a boat and paddling out ot the middle of a lake." you suggested, and after looking at his confused gaze, you added. "my parents gave me some money, i think we can afford it."

mike nodded with a shy smile on his face. he couldn’t believe you were doing that, he couldn’t even believe you confessed to him in the first place  you were so bright, so cool, so amazing, so stunning, beautiful, kind. 

“sure.” 

and he was just him. just mike. 

as he watched you getting on the boat and inviting him to do the same, he couldn’t help but admire you. 

he’s been admiring you from afar for months now, and even though he couldn’t believe any of this, there was something he knew for sure. 

you were even prettier up close, like a diamond. you shined from afar, so much that everyone could recognize you even if they were miles away, but the brightness and his excitement increased when he got closer to you. 

mike regretted not talking to you before. as someone who's known for being brave, he has been such a coward when it comes to you. he couldn't even behave properly whenever you were near, he didn't know how to not seem too interested, so he just gave you cold looks instead. cold looks he couldn't even control at the time.

he's been playing safe. mike's really good at taking risks, he could even jump off a cliff if that means a friend of him would stop from getting bullied.

but he had to play safe now, so he just opened his mouth to say "the weather's nice."

you smiled. "yeah... it is."

he nodded. 

then silence. kind of awkward silence.

you were both in a lake. 

on a date.

in a boat.

you tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, regretting it immediately because you don't know what to do with your hair, and you also don't know how you look with a strand of your hair behind your ear. maybe mike wouldn't notice those things, but what if he does? what if tucking a strand of hair behind your ear shows how nervous someone is? what if that's a signal? or worse, what if that's a secret code that lets the soviets know that someone's a secret spy and they come after you at this exact same moment?

what if. what if. what if.

it's not like you could stand up and say "i'm going to the bathroom," no, and it's not like you wanted to escape, but you didn't know how to handle conversations either.

and for someone who's known (actually not, but you've been spying on him enough to make assumptions) for being really talkative, mike was so quiet.

then you remembered that boring book your dad bought you once when you were starting middle school and you were afraid of not having any friends. it compiled a bunch of small talk prompts. you remember how pissed off he was when you laughed after reading their "socializing tips," saying you'll never use something like that.

however...

"have you ever been arrested?"

maybe saying the first thing you remembered wasn't the best idea. 

mike tilted his head in confusion and chuckled a little, that made you shake your head and explain yourself. "no, no. i'm not trying to check your criminal record or something like that. i just- oh god. my dad gave me a book that gave tips to make friends. it was like socializing for dummies or something. small talk is not really my thing to be honest."

he tried to stifle a laugh, but eventually failed.

why was he laughing?

at least he was laughing.

god. you were so nervous. if anyone saw you being like this they wouldn't believe this version of you actually exists.

“but i want to talk to you though. i just– i don’t know how to– uhm…” you were fidgeting with the sleeves of your sweater while trying to keep eye contact, then cleared your throat. “you. uhm… tell me more about you. dustin told me you’re good at storytelling. and that– uhm.” you hesitated, stumbling into your own words. “uhm. you’re the best at it, especially when it comes to d&d sessions.”

his face expression changed immediately from the excitement he felt. 

“uh… yeah.” he gave you a shy grin. “i don’t know if you know it but there’s this club at school that’s called–”

“the hellfire club.” you interrupted him mid sentence, surprising him. “oh. uhm– sorry i interrupted. i– i guess. shit. i just got a little excited i think? i’ve never played d&d before but you guys look so cool.”

“you… you knew about us?”

“of course i do.” you smiled as you started to row. you found funny (and ironic) that he wasn't not even a little close to be aware of how much you were watching him. you immediately felt like a creep after that thought. “i knew it existed the minute you guys joined it. i remember seeing you with that t-shirt at school one day. your hair was longer back then. you were walking down the hallway, and you passed by my side. you looked really good by the way. really cool.”

“oh.”

it surprised him. he joined the club a while ago, he didn’t even remember how it was. 

but that happened way before he knew you existed. 

well, he knew who you were. of course. everyone did. but he wasn’t attracted to you at that time. not even to mention that he didn't like you because you were popular, and he hated popular kids.

and you knew about him? this whole time? 

mike had spent the whole morning overthinking things. he showered two times and he changed his outfit too many times to the point where he can't even count, he stole his mother's fashion magazines to look at what was trendy nowadays, then eventually discarded the idea, because he wouldn't feel like himself. and he didn't want to be somebody else if he's having the chance of being known by you.

he has been insanely aware of everything since he saw you at his front door. from the way you talk to the way you walk, and anything else. he just didn't want you to feel bored, or worse, he didn't want you to leave because of how much awkward this date could be. he already picture the worse-case scenarios, so his mind started to plan what he's gonna say and what he should or shouldn't respond to anything you say. 

he has also been hyper aware of how he has been behaving. he's been analyzing the way he's been seated since you both got into that boat, with his mind full of doubts about how his posture should be. and how would you react to anything he says. 

life is like a chessboard, like a big board game. with that said, he prepared himself for every given scenario that might happen in the future.

however, he never thought about the past, because there's no way you were part of it. yet the fact that you knew about him changed his whole perspective of things, and it embarrassed him a little because now he thinks about every awkward situation of his that you could've been aware of. he knows that the chances of that happening are extremely low, that knowing someone's existence is not the same as paying attention to them, so that comforted him a little. but still.

he just hoped you hadn't seen him being cringy.

"oh?" you interrupted his thoughts, your voice sounded soft. "is that bad?"

"no, no, no. i just... i was surprised."

"oh." your cheeks were surprisingly red. "well, tell me more then. i've never played dungeons and wagons before."

"it's dragons." he clarified, a little hesitant. usually he'd feel offended and he would reply with a shitty tone if someone else said that, because why would someone mistake dragons for wagons? but since it's you, he's okay with it. everybody makes mistakes. "the game is basically about heroes exploring underground labyrinths, that's the dungeons, to fight monsters, those are the dragons."

"and why don't they travel by wagons?" 

you didn't know much about the game, that was a fact, but you wanted to see his reaction to you teasing him.

"because. well, the word dungeons comes from latin, 'dominus' which means master or lord."

"and why don't these masters travel by wagons? why do they have to use dragons?"

"no, they don't use dragons and they don't travel by wagons, there's no wagon in the game."

"why not?"

"because-"

"oh wait. but aren't dungeons literally cells underground? i don't get it."

mike sighed, he was starting to lose his patience. "yes, but the word dungeon originated from the old french word donjon, which refers to the commanding tower of a castle, rather than an underground prison. i don't know how but it eventually shifted to mean prison."

"and what does wagons have to do with all of this?"

"there's no wagons."

"why?"

"just because."

you looked at him, unconvinced, and intimidating enough to keep him going.

"well i guess it is because wagons are too big to fit in a castle."

"but castles are big. rich people can make things fit if they want to. if kings wanted to, they would."

"yeah but-"

"and why do they kill dragons? i don't understand. dragons are cute."

"have you ever seen a dragon?"

"no?"

he didn't reply. mike's gaze diverted to the water. it started to feel a little frustrating.

"they don't kill just dragons. i told you they also kill-"

"okay but they shouldn't kill dragons, they are cute, mike. are you okay with people killing cute things?" you asked offended, as if you never expected him to commit a felony.

mike started to grumble a little, he just couldn't understand how you couldn't understand something so simple as-

you started laughing.

wow.

"mike i was joking." you smirked, and then a bright smile appeared on your face. "i think it's cute to see you mad though."

he blushed, embarrassed. for a minute he thought you really didn't understand it.

perhaps the pedestal he put you on was so high he couldn't even imagine you mocking him.

"maybe we should rent a wagon next time."

"and you guys kissed?" robin leaned in while pointing the remote control towards you as if it was a mic. 

you held your pillow and shook your head, looking past her. you could feel the heat growing in your cheeks. 

"oh my god."

"what. i didn't even know how to act. i was nervous."

"y/n, you've done this before. it's not like you've never been on a date before."

"i know. but... this is different." you hugged the pillow tighter while settling on the cushions. "i think i really like him. this is crazy."

steve, whom you forgot was sitting on the floor in front of the couch, joined the conversation.  "and you said it was impossible–"

"oh come on, steve just shut up." you threw a cushion at him. he caught it.

"please. if it weren't for me, you guys wouldn't even be together."

"we're not together, together." you remarked, but it wasn't enough to wipe the smile off his face. "stop acting like you're a matchmaker, you literally blackmailed me into confessing to him."

before he could reply, robin said. "the fact that you didn't kiss him is crazy." she raised her brows. "you were on a lake. you literally used up your whole savings to rent a small boat. not to mention you lied to him about it, telling him our parents gave you some money so he wouldn't feel guilty."

"damn. imagine doing all that for a boy." steve took a scoop of his ice cream. "no one wonders who was the guy that made all of that possible."

"well, today was nice." you ignored steve's words. "the boat thing was a little white lie, yes, but it's okay," you shrugged. "and don't look at me like that. things will be good from now on."

you hoped so.

"and what else happened juliet?" steve asked as he ate his ice cream. "we're not gathering here just for you to tell us you went to a lake."

"remind me why are we friends again?" you rolled your eyes and stood up to grab the cushions you threw before from the floor, just to throw them again, this time straight at his head. but just as he did before, he caught them now. "we didn't gather just for me to tell you that i went to a lake with michael, dummy. you know it's friday. did you already forget the plot of sixteen candles? or can't buy me love?"

how hypocritical of you to say that, you were the one who didn't pay attention to the movies the three of you watched today just because your brain kept replaying every moment with michael.

regardless of how much you loved the friendly-mocking-sibling dynamic you had with steve and how much you enjoyed mocking him, you stopped to tell them about how your afternoon went. everything. or almost everything? there weren't things to hide from them anyway, but maybe they were right about the kissing part.

however, both you and michael were awkward people, so none of you making the first move was something really expected. you barely made it alive without embarrassing yourself. 

that's something you kept to yourself, you didn't want them to know how insecure you were about all of that, how you were afraid to mess things up and to embarrass yourself in front of the boy that you like.

especially because they know michael. robin doesn't know him that much, but steve literally does, he was part of the party's plan after all. so, it'd be 10 times more embarrassing if you told them about how nervous he makes you feel. you already picture steve raising a brow with a smirk on his face.

despite your nerves, you couldn't deny that everything went well. both of you were loosening up a little. mike told you a lot of things about him that just made you feel more and more attracted to him and more curious to know who was him under all the layers that compose his persona.

you were afraid of him getting to know you better, because you feared he might eventually reject you.

two weeks had passed since that awkward date, and mike wasn't doing well. you've been talking more as time passed, you even reached out to him. 

however, he couldn't stop himself from being anxious, from doubting and overthinking every single moment you've spent together.

it all started the minute the date ended, you were giggling, and even though he couldn't stop thinking about you on the way home, replaying everything he said, did, and every movement he made, his heart felt a little lighter for a moment.

you gave him your home phone number, along with the times he could call. your parents and your sister were a bit nosy and you knew they'd pick up another line just to listen to your conversations.

he was excited, but that didn't last. 

he called you during those hours, more than once, but you never picked up. he didn't hear from you for the whole weekend. yes, it might have been two days. but it was two days where his heart was beating faster than it was supposed to, and his stomach was aching. and mike just didn't want to go to your house. he felt like he'd bother you.

that just made him replay the date over and over in his head like a broken record. and he kept finding more and more mistakes every time he did. 

did he fuck things up? he could tell. there were a lot of things he did wrong that day. 

two days didn't look like much. except for dustin, who was already bored of hearing "y/n, y/n, y/n" every. single. time.

"why don't you just go to her house?"

"no. that's not the plan." mike replied, making dustin roll his eyes. "she's going to reject me. and she'll tell me i was stupid for thinking i had a chance with her."

dustin let out a big sigh, not really caring about mike's complaints anymore. he was reading a comic. "not everything has to be a plan."

"says the guy who started the plan." mike was hyperventilating. "if it weren't for you none of this would be happening and i wouldn't be feeling like i'm going to die at any given time just because the girl i'm deeply obsessed with doesn't like me back."

dustin sighed and turned the page, actively deciding to not reply to mike's words, that would throw him into a wormhole he wouldn’t be able to escape.

so mike sat beside max (who was already annoyed just by the fact of having him by her side, she knew where this was going) and complained to her the whole afternoon.

later that day, you ran to his house, trying not to desperately ring the bell a thousand times. it was already 10pm, and the idea of his mother looking at you like you were crazy, or worse, holly opening the door again and seeing you that desperate wasn't endearing at all.

his older sister opened the door, and, in fact, she gave you a worried look as she saw you with your hands on your knees while gasping for air. "hey. is everything okay?"

you nodded, trying to put yourself together. this was embarrassing. 

you, a person who can't get out of her house at night because of the fear that something might happen, ran all over hawkins (it wasn't that much, but enough to make you feel like you were having a cardiac arrest) just to see a boy who might not even have called you, just to explain why you were absent for two days.

two days.

god.

this situation was humbling. 

you thought about going back to your house and saving yourself from this embarrassing moment, but nancy wheeler was already in front of you.

she was intimidating. nancy knew who you were, of course. she might have seen you once or twice as you were hanging out with steve and robin all the time. but she didn't even remember your name.

"yes," you gasped. 

she raised a brow and you made eye contact with her. neither of you said anything for a few seconds. and the moment already started to feel uncomfortable. 

your mouth was dry.

"uh– is mike here by any chance?"

her expression changed to something you couldn't quite define. did she know that mike has a crush on you? you hoped so.

the worse scenario was that she hated you.

"sure." she opened the door. "he's in his room. you can go if you want."

you nodded. "thanks."

"anytime."

you went up the stairs, your breathing was still ragged even though you weren't gasping for air anymore. your heart was beating harder and every step you took made your legs feel heavier.

when you were finally on the second floor, you felt stupid. 

you didn't know where mike's room was. should you go down stairs to ask nancy?

no. that'd be embarrassing.

after what felt like a lifetime, you heard nancy behind your back, muttering "second door on the right."

you turned quickly, your face heating up. "right... thanks. i– i wasn't sure."

she gave you a small nod, like she'd expected this, before heading back downstairs.

now you were in front of his door, your heart was about to explode.

you knocked and when you heard his yelled "come in" you knew it was time to go in.

mike was seated crisscrossed on his bed with a book in his hands, and his face expressions already told you that he wasn't expecting this. was he mad? you thought so. no, he wasn't, just a little surprised. and maybe concerned. 

but before he could open his mouth, you closed his door and stepped forward so fast that he felt a little intimidated when he saw you in front of him.

you were going to say something, but he spoke first. "y/n? what are you doing here? it's late."

was he mad? you couldn't tell if he was mad or not. he was giving you a weird look.

"listen," you sat down crisscrossed on his bed, as far away from him as possible. you didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable. "i came here as fast as i could because i didn't want you to see me tomorrow at school after a whole weekend without hearing from me and thinking that i've been ignoring you. i just had a family trip to california to visit my grandparents and it literally came out of nowhere. i don't  know if you called me, but i'm sorry."

mike raised his brows in surprise.

he spent his whole weekend thinking about you and blaming himself for not being interesting enough. making scenarios in his head where you tell him you didn't like the date, and he was boring.

he wasted every breath, and all of his words ranting to his friends about it. they were tired of him. 

he even called lucas on the radio every hour, being so persistent with his "lucas, do you copy?" that his friend eventually had to switch channels. 

but he never expected this.

“are you mad at me?” you leaned closer hesitantly. just a little closer. “i don’t know if you called. the first thing i did after i got out of the car was run to your house because i wanted to see you.”

you chuckled.

"uh..." he hesitated. what could he say in a moment like this? the truth? "no. i'm not mad. just a little surprised because..."

i thought you didn't like me and you wanted me away from your life.

"i don't know. maybe you wanted your space or something."

you blushed a little and looked away, slightly embarrassed. that's when you started paying attention to every detail of his room. there were so many things that were so him, his essence was everywhere, it even smelled like him, something you hadn't noticed before given how urgent it had been for you to talk to him and the adrenaline running through your body.

you were surprised to realize how tidy it was. it's not like he'd told you beforehand, but maybe once (or twice. or maybe a few times) when you were spying on them, you heard lucas mention something about mike needing to clean his room urgently. 

and the truth is, he spent his whole weekend so caught up thinking about you that he eventually ran out of things to do, and ended up cleaning just to calm down. 

"and i called, by the way." he clarified, taking you away from your trance. "i called like a dozen times." mike shut himself up for two seconds, realizing what he just said. "i mean, no. i called sometimes but not a dozen times. i wasn't that desperate. i mean, i just thought that you didn't want to talk so i stopped. i didn't want to bother you."

you looked back at him, the nervousness in your body slipped away from you for a minute.

"to be honest, i just wanted you to call me." you confessed, making eye contact with him while leaning a little bit closer without even realizing you were doing it. and he didn't realize about it either. "i wanted to call you to tell you where i was but i don't have your number. it was so frustrating."

“shit.” he almost laughed. “i’m sorry.”

“don’t be.” you shook your head. “just give me your phone number so i can call you.”

mike nodded. 

“i’m really sorry.” you confessed. you almost said that you missed him, that you wanted to talk to him every single time. but that would make you sound so desperate. 

"so… are we good, then?" he asked nervously.

"yeah." you took a deep breath, then exhaled. "we're good."

"cool.”

"nice."

both of you went silent. you could see his nervousness through his expression as you tried to keep your heart from bursting. he was thinking something. there was something on his mind that you wish you’d know about. 

and suddenly, you realized how close you are to him. when did that happen? and most importantly, how?

the room was getting smaller as you made eye contact. 

mike wasn’t doing any better. he knew he should say something, he was just too focused on looking at your face, admiring every aspect of it while a hint of electricity ran through his body. 

was it that though? 

he saw every inch of your face, from your eyes to your nose, the shape of your eyebrows, and the color of your eyes. your cheeks were slightly pink, a color mike had begun to think was naturally yours, given how often they’d been like that lately. 

and your lips. 

the ones he’s been dreaming of kissing. 

his eyes lingered on them more than he’d wanted them to. 

you did the same. your eyes were drifting from his eyes to his lips. 

for a second, just a tiny fragment of a second, you truly thought it could happen. you began to lean in slowly, painfully slowly and carefully, toward him. every movement was so cautious, as if you were stepping through a minefield and any second something could explode. 

you were testing the waters. 

he was going to kiss you. 

he wanted to kiss you. 

as much as you wanted to kiss him. 

it was going to happen, finally. 

everything felt so slow, every movement was more painful than the other. your own heartbeat couldn’t let you hear how his own was about to explode. 

how much it was beating for you. 

your lips were about to touch, he closed his eyes, and you did that too, you were about to put your arm on his shoulder to get him closer to you. 

you almost got it. you were so, so god damn close. 

until a knock on the door broke it, and that alone made you pull away instantly, putting as much distance as possible between you as you sat at the opposite end of the bed, back stiff and straight. 

is not like mike felt bad about it and acted differently, because he was just as shaken as you were. it felt like being caught at the scene of a crime. 

“come in.” he cleared his throat. 

“hi.” mike’s mom smiled as she opened the door. “i just wanted to ask if your friend wants to stay for dinner. it’s late and you must be hungry.”

“oh…” you replied in disbelief, with your gaze going straight to mike. 

you were about to kiss her son. jesus, you really wanted to kiss her son, you were secretly begging for it. 

“i’d love to.”

then you smiled, shyly.

and mike thought that was the most beautiful thing that has ever happened to him.

three months had passed since that day. neither of you spoke a word about it, no one was that brave enough to take the initiative to do something like that.

but you were always together.

not like always always in a strict sense of the word, however, you spent most of your time together as if it were a routine.

he liked you, you liked him, and you both knew that. everyone knew that at this point.

so why was nothing happening?

you picked him up after every hellfire club meeting, and mike walked you home, that was his favorite part of the day, the one he looked forward to the most. he even used to sneak in as a spectator to your chemistry club meetings every saturday morning, not doing anything but sitting in the back and watching whatever you guys were working on. until, at some point, he stopped doing that and started sitting next to you. your classmates would joke that he'd been 'promoted' in his role as a fan, going from being part of the background to getting closer and closer to actually participating. 

they didn't really mind him being there doing nothing, and it's not like they could say much about it anyway, you were the leader of the group after all.

and mike didn't mind waking up early on weekends if it meant being with you and getting to see you being so happy in your natural habitat. he loved being part of your life, and he also loved that, little by little, you were becoming more and more part of his.

but nothing was happening between you two. you were getting closer every day, but it felt like there was a big wall between you two that was so damn hard to knock down.

maybe it wasn't meant to be that way. maybe that's all you could ever be.

it seemed like you were nothing but really good friends.

nothing more than that.

and you didn't know what to think about that. you were too shy to make a move, and he wasn't making many moves either, to the point that you started to feel that maybe he didn't like you anymore. 

it was always like that, people used to idealize you and as soon as they knew you... they realized you just weren’t that interesting.

did that happen to him too?

it was better to settle for that thought, instead of daydreaming about things that would never happen.

it felt like every detail confirmed your point, that his feelings had changed, or maybe you were just looking too hard into this. 

but how couldn’t you? you stayed at his house last night, after your mandatory movie night with robin, and you felt how things were changing. 

were they really changing though? or was just your brain trying to trick you?

it all started at dinner, when holly asked you if you could pass her the ketchup bottle. even though it made no sense, mike tried to help you, and your hands touched. 

like it was normal.

holly didn’t flinch, nor did she say a word about it or make the usual facial expressions she used to make when she found out about you. 

she used to tease mike until his ears were red, but not anymore. it felt like she just took your presence for granted, like it was something that was just there, like every other normal thing on her normal days and not like you’re her ‘brother’s almost-girlfriend’

even things with nancy started to feel different. things were chill now. 

nancy was chill though, things had always been good with her. you were the one who felt intimidated by her, but it was just because she looked so mature and amazing that you didn’t want to ruin things.

but now it felt like things weren’t that special anymore. they went from flattering whenever you and mike’s eyes intertwined to just pretending it was normal. 

you've spent too much time staring at the ceiling of his basement while replaying every recent interaction with him, because you couldn't sleep that night with all the thoughts running through your mind. what's even worse and what fed your anxiety was that there was even a soft spot for you to sleep in his basement whenever you were staying at his house. mike got an inflatable mattress for you to sleep there, and it was so damn comfortable.

of course he can do that in a friendly way.

but you wish there was something else.

the next morning was extremely rushed, both of you overslept. if it hadn't been for the sound of mike's footsteps (rushing down the basement stairs to wake you, breathless and frantic) you probably would've been late to your chemistry club meeting.

fortunately, you made it on time, but you were running late without any time to even exchange a few words with him. 

he knew there was something wrong, but he brushed it aside because he assumed it was probably because you were almost late, and you can't be late because you hate it when your peers do that. still, after nearly three straight hours of doing nothing but going back and forth over a reaction mechanism and trying to figure out why the reaction wasn't working, he knew something was off.

especially when he looked at you while you were writing on the board, and noticed the way you barely reacted to the jokes one of your friends threw at you. he knew that under any other circumstances you would've laughed about it while challenging her back. but now it felt like there was something about you that wasn't quite right.

"thank you very much guys!" you grabbed your backpack while looking at mike, as if you were waiting for him to nod before you guys left. "make sure to work on this. i'll see you next saturday."

and with that, you left the classroom with mike by your side. you crossed your arms, feeling the cold air the minute you stepped outside.

thankfully, mike's sweater was comfortable enough to keep you from freezing.

you were walking together without speaking a word, and you knew that it was because of you. you weren't ignoring him, but there was something about you that made him feel like you didn't want to talk, that you weren't receptive to having a conversation right now.

it was because your mind kept lingering on the thought of what you guys exactly were, and whether it was possible for your relationship to move forward instead of being as static as it was right now.

it made you anxious. you've spent the last two days thinking that he just wasn't into you anymore.

nothing could pull you out of the thought that was running inside of your mind. nothing. until you heard mike's voice saying "it was a cool morning. i think i'm finally getting what this hard level of chemistry is all about."

mike was good at chemistry, but the things you worked on in your club were so complex that they were actually hard to follow unless you'd spent a considerable amount of time studying them.

you sighed, tired. "yes, it was. i'm glad you're getting it now."

mike stopped walking. you did the same.

he was just there, static, confused, but most importantly, hurt.

to a point that it was hard for you to understand.

"what's going on?" he asked in confusion. "you've been weird all morning. i dare to say you've been acting weird since thursday."

"what? no, mike. nothing's going on." you paused. 

having his eyes on you right now was something so hard to deal with, you had to close yours.

then you opened them, ready to face it.

"nothing's going on and i think that is the problem."

he shook his head. "i don't get it."

"you don't have to." you replied tired. "sorry. i'm just being dramatic. i just think it's weird. how a while ago you said you liked me, and how i like you too. so much, to a point that i think it’s not sane, and i'm glad that we're friends now because you are my favorite person in the world and nothing makes my day more than spending it with you. but..."

pause. 

"but?" he asked carefully.

"nothing. it’s just that nothing happens between us and i think i'm tired. i just- i just know you don't like me anymore-"

"who said that i don't like you?"

oh.

"what do you mean?"

"i like you."

"yes, but... i think we're going nowhere."

"what do you mean?"

"god, mike. we haven't even kissed yet." you snapped.

"you want me to kiss you?" mike was more and more confused, but you took that as an offensive.

"yes!" you yelled, loud. so, so loud. and immediately regretted it. 

why did you say that? you couldn't believe those words had just come out of your lips. what if he says no? is he going to run away? or maybe tell you, very politely, that he doesn't want to?

you were so nervous, so much you could feel your whole body burn, hyper-aware of the fabric of your clothes against your skin. and the look he was giving you wasn't helping at all, it made your heartbeat race.

he froze.

his mind hovered somewhere between going blank and rushing all at once, trying to figure out if you really meant it. every neuron in his brain seemed to fire at the same time, either to process what you'd said or to somehow figure out how to kiss you.

suddenly, everything had gone quiet, as if the world had narrowed down to just the space between you and him.

he leaned in slowly, so painfully slowly, like the way you had leaned back in his room a few months ago. even though your chest rose and fell like it might give out at any second, you just couldn't stop staring at his lips.

he paused just for a second, like he was giving you time to pull away.

he closed the distance.

it was a gentle press of the lips at first, so innocent it was almost chaste. he was unconsciously asking for your approval, and then you gasped, caught off guard.

and that was enough for him to cup your cheek with one hand and place the other on your waist as he pulled you tight to his chest. it felt like the excitement someone has when visiting a new place for the first time, like a scientist who had just found a new discovery. it felt so unfamiliar, but also, your lips were a place he wanted to stay forever.

your skin was soft, nothing compared to the fireworks you could feel inside your body. nothing more than him existed right now. you could die today and it wouldn't matter, your life was pure bliss. this made every negative thought fade from your mind, dimming the overwhelming emotions that had been running through you for the last days.

you weren't sure of how long the kiss was, it just felt like riding a rollercoaster, a pure dose of quick adrenaline. nothing more.

and when it stopped, the feeling stopped too, leaving you with nothing but pure confusion, unable to react or process all of this.

it was too much. too much, you took two steps back after the kiss. mike saw your face, there was no expression on it. it was like medusa got you petrified, you were completely frozen.

he took that as a rejection. you didn't like it. you didn't even react to his kiss, and you had no facial expression whatsoever. it felt like, for a moment, the gates of heaven had opened just for him, only to shut just as he was about to witness all the beauty that lay within. like god had cruelly cast him out of paradise and now he was falling, straight toward hell.

and the worst part was, the silence was stretching too long.

of course.

"sorry." he started. it was pointless to apologize for something you literally asked him for, but he didn't anyway. "i just wanted to do this for so lo–"

"can we do that again?" you interrupted.

he frowned.

"what?"

you gave him a wide smile and wrapped your arms around his neck. he still likes you. "mike. i think that... this is not going to work if we are both shy. i guess someone has to do something."

mike blushed, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning a little closer to you. it wasn't that much, but it was enough. 

"i– i don't understand." he pulled you closer as you started to slowly run your fingers through his hair. "did you like the kiss?"

"the right question is why wouldn't i like it." you tilted your head a little. "i did. a lot, actually."

"but you weren't reacting."

you looked past him, with the heat growing through your cheeks. "that's because i didn't expect that." you paused, and then immediately clarified. "no– no. don't get me wrong. it's not like i didn't want you to kiss me though. i– i did. i really wanted to kiss you since our first date, don't think otherwise because i really wanted you to–"

he kissed you again. 

"oh god." you gasped. and he did it again. you could feel your knees getting weak. 

you buried your face in his neck. your cheeks were burning, your lips stretched into a wide smile. the feeling of his arms wrapped around you, of your senses filled with nothing but his scent, made you feel like you were drunk in love. you really wanted to stay there forever. that was where you were meant to be. that was your place.

and everything felt even better the moment you heard him say your name.

every inch of his brain got into a heated debate about whether he should or should not do this. mike's a brave guy, he's always the bigger person who's willing to help everyone he cares about. however, every little thing related to you wrapped him in a blanket of shyness and insecurity. the only thing running through his mind was the thought that he'd be rejected, because for a long time, he believed you came from different worlds, that it was impossible for your lives to ever cross at any point. 

but that wasn't true, and you approached him, even though he always tried to avoid you due to his insecurities. even though he kept sabotaging himself, and even now he's still surprised that you're here.

god. you even asked him to kiss you. but something in him couldn't believe it. something deep inside felt like none of this fit, like it could all vanish at any moment, or that both of you would go back to how things used to be. him being just a normal boy, with a normal life, and you being completely out of reach, loved by absolutely everyone.

someone who would never look at him.

but no. that wasn't the case, and the two of you fit together so well. he realized that over time. no matter how much fear ran through his body, no matter how scared he was, another part of him was collecting every moment you'd shared over the past few months. the way there were jokes only the two of you understood, the little routine you built after school, the phone calls mike knew holly or his mom could be listening to from another line in the house, the afternoons where you did nothing but stay wrapped up together on the couch, or even him joining your and robin's friday movie nights like clockwork. you shared the same opinions, and part of him felt like you'd become a team.

he enjoyed the dynamic he was becoming part of so much that he was terrified of losing it.

mike had always thought that the so-called popular kids at school were basically bullies who had absolutely nothing in their heads. no aspirations. no thoughts. absolutely fucking nothing. he'd always hated them, and he couldn't even change his mind when lucas openly showed his desire to join the basketball team.

nothing was enough to change his mind, until you happened. you were none of that. you were not even close to any of the preconceived ideas he had about people like you.

you broke the mold he's been carefully constructing since he was in middle school, and made him think that maybe, just maybe, cheerleaders and basketball players weren't evil.

mike wanted you more than he ever imagined was possible. for a minute he thought he was idealizing you and every shared moment, but the more time passed and the more he got to know you, the stronger his feelings for you became.

he wanted to be with you. he'd spent months of his life feeling insecure, expecting the worst, convincing himself you'd never know him, that you'd laugh at the thought of him. 

now he knows how wrong he was. there's a mix of regret and a lingering feeling that he wishes he had done things differently, had given himself that push, a pat on the back that would’ve encouraged him to actually talk to you, and made him realize that none of what he thought he knew at the time was true.

that you wouldn't reject him.

that you'd feel the same.

things changed by now. mike had grown confident, someone entirely different from the boy you were with on the boat a few months ago. all the fear and anxiety he used to feel at the thought of getting close to you, or even looking at your face, had gone completely. now, all he wanted was to be near you. to be with you.

he's not afraid to love you.

so when he kissed you again, and you looked at him, with nothing but amusement in your eyes, he knew he had to do it.

"can i be your boyfriend?"

[byleronewheat]

Guys... It's 5pm and we still have no ttmd;ttms.. I hope you are ok thesweetestdream...

[flaminhotweirdos]

how it feels having to re read all the xreaders ive already read bc no one writes them anymore

mike wheeler s5 x readers i miss you

[howstrangerthingshappen]

CLAIMING RN

[frogsdontcry]

Mike and Will dancing in chapter 13 of TTMDTTMS

[vurbenaa]

ITS MET GALA MONDAYYYYYYYY

can u write about finn and y/n attending 🫦🫦

⋆˙⟡ MET GALA — finn wolfhard

reader is written to be a singer/songwriter & is barely implied as fem! lil fic w/ a smau bonus at the end :)

Bright lights flash in your peripheral, cameramen yell for the attention of those further down the carpet, yet none of it is new to you. The only new thing is that this time, you're not facing it alone.

A gentle kiss is pressed to your forehead as you bite your lower lip, anticipating the never-ending night to come of socialization, cameras in your face, and the feeling of tight clothing in a hot, enclosed space. It's nerve wracking.

"You look like an angel, for what it's worth," Finn coos, a hand on your hip as his eyes meet yours, "you have nothing to worry about, baby."

"Except maybe... Hundreds of people trying to direct me, analyze me, make me out to be their next big headline—" you snort, so eager to jump to the worst. It's hard not to, though.

"Well if this outfit doesn't already get you on the cover of a magazine with thousands of headlines to go with it, I don't know what will." He grins, easy to uplift and shamelessly look over you with nothing but awe in his gaze. "I'm here, alright? Sure, it's about... Looking good, advertising yourself, whatever."

He continues, laughing, "but just think of it as a really crowded and, uh, expensive date night."

"Right. Thanks." You roll your eyes with a smile peeking through your feigned annoyance, "I love you."

"I love you more." He kisses your lips this time, lingering for only a second before pulling away. The both of you are scared to interfere with the makeup carefully applied to your faces, and that includes kissing.

Rubbing up and down your clothed hip reassuringly, your boyfriend murmurs only to you, "c'mon, you ready? They're waiting for the main event." He gestures to you again.

Nodding back, you feel him taking the first steps, hand on the small of your back like without it, you wouldn't have the courage to. It's just as overwhelming as you anticipated, photographers and cameramen jumping on the opportunity to point out your appearance together.

"Over here, Finn!"

"Can we get a kiss for the camera?"

"You two look adorable!"

It all feels so surreal, the flood of attention on you two. Not only that, but on the status of your relationship, leaving everyone eager to get the winning photo of everyone's favorite celebrity's walking arm in arm to the biggest gala of the year. It's almost suffocating, the idea of it.

Thankfully, Finn's hand rubs up and down your back as if he could read your mind. And to a degree, you believed he could. He knew your tells, and that was as close as he could get.

"You got it," he barely whispers under his breath while his hand shifts to rest visibly on your waist. It's intentional, a soft sense of claim that notions to the world that you're his and that he wants them to know that.

Glancing back up at him, your eyes flit down to his lips. Like an invite, letting him pick his poison.

The soft nod that follows is brief but there, and when you reciprocate, he leans in to press his lips to yours without a moment of hesitation. You pay no mind to the camera shutters and flashes of light that follow, letting yourself take the kiss as a break from reality. Even if you'd only just gotten out here, these appearances on the carpet were short and fast-paced, so you could only spend so much time under wandering eyes.

Parting from one another, your cheeks are flushed from the attention, along with his. The smiles you two crown are all but picture perfect, rather genuine. Like a date night.

When you're ushered out of the spotlight by one of your managers—who's exactly, you're unsure—it's like arriving to an empty home after an adrenaline filled party. You two haven't even dealt with the interviews yet.

"Told you." Finn grins when you two are off camera, back in your own little world, just for now. There's only so little time before that ends. "That kiss will take over any headlines, if how good you look doesn't first." He's persistent, but his reassurance is appreciated.

"It's better having you with me," you hum, taking his hand and squeezing it in yours, "way better."

It's then that you're interrupted and pulled away by managers once again, only to then try and navigate through areas full of celebrities getting their makeup touched up and interviewers with far too many connections to have made it back here.

"Finn! Y/N!" One interviewer, a kinder, younger woman gently calls your name once you hit the carpet again. That didn't take long, did it? "Could I have a second of your time?"

"Oh—of course," Finn nods for the both of you, letting you step in front of him first before following in suit, "it's nice to meet you." He adds.

"It's really nice to meet you too!" She seems skittish, on the nervous end, almost newer. She doesn't prod and pry immediately like most interviewers do, so you can only hope she's different. "How are you two doing tonight?"

"We're doing really good! This is our first time here so it's definitely—interesting. New, fun, y'know." You laugh softly, like doing so will hide your nerves.

"Yeah! This is your first Met Gala, and you two really showed out," she nods quickly, "you're even matching! That's just so cute—sorry, but it is." The woman cuts herself off before she begins on a tangent.

"Mhm," Finn hums, glancing over your outfits before his eyes finds the interviewers again, "I don't think you usually see that kinda thing, so naturally. We had to try." It's barely a joke, but the tension ensures a laugh from everyone.

"Right! Well, what's the inspiration behind the outfits tonight? Especially with the dress code this year—'Fashion is Art'—how did that inspire the look?" She urges, seeming genuinely excited. Like she's fueled by curiosity and nothing more.

Finn rambles on about the significance of the outfits, loosely of the portrayal of historical fashion in art and the correlation with it to his upcoming album. He sounds so natural when he speaks to cameras under the weighted pressure of the public's approval.

"But also, since it's our first time here, we didn't wanna go too out of the box." He laughs. You just smile, finding yourself fixated on his messy black hair, curled here and there, lying against his forehead, along with the glint in his eyes that comes with speaking about his passions.

You almost miss the question directed at you.

Almost.

"And you just look absolutely gorgeous tonight," the woman speaks up again, a wide smile splitting on her lips, "do you have any upcoming projects that viewers at home might have to look forward to? Maybe some music?"

"Oh! Yes," you hum, perking up at the familiar topic.

Going on your own similar ramble about your recent projects, most notably of new music you'd been wrapping up for a potential album shortly after Finn's. Though, you two have plenty of overlap in your fanbases, and it only felt right to let each of you take the spotlight. So for now, you're polishing songs and making sure it's the best it can be before a release date.

That fills time, and you depart from what would probably be the kindest interviewer you'd face tonight. She had a face and heart you definitely wouldn't forget, and she even did some loose research on you two to ask follow up questions. That doesn't happen everyday.

Laying low comes easy though once you've gotten a few interviews under your belt and the expectation to do more dies down. Now, you and Finn simply get to walk the museum's gallery and exhibits in tandem as if the world outside didn't exist beyond these decorated walls.

When you two finally find a room not occupied, Finn slows to a stop and turns his attention to you.

"It was really hard not to kiss you whenever you started talking all smart." Finn nudges you, speaking quietly given the environment, "about the historical stuff, your music, us."

"I wouldn't have stopped you." You shrug softly, a soft smile gracing your lips. It's far more comfortable like this, you two left to your own devices, enjoying each others company.

"That's exactly why it was really hard to stop myself." His grin widens before he gestures to you, "especially when you've just been walking around looking like this. I'm gonna have to fight a war to keep you, aren't I?"

"You're a dork." All you can do is shake your head and laugh, before leaning up to press a loving kiss to his lips. It's slow, practiced, and only dreamier surrounded by the beautiful creations and historical pieces around you.

"I'd get married here if it weren't for the fact we couldn't bring food." Finn jokes, forehead pressing against yours and hands running back over your hips to pull you closer. "And that I haven't put a ring on your finger yet, I guess. Kinda have to do that first, don't I?"

"Ideally." You shrug softly, kissing the tip of his nose before pulling away. "And while we're on the topic of food... Can we go eat now?"

"On the topic of food, not marriage. Got it. Priorities." He huffs out a real laugh, "lead the way, angel."

It's not that he doesn't call you that, angel. But he doesn't. Not normally. So now, it makes those butterflies in your stomach erupt into a flurry whenever it leaves his lips.

But you're thinking too much, and he catches it.

"C'mon, thought you were hungry. Don't go getting in your head on me now." He teases, squeezing your waist lovingly, "now I'm hungry.

Taking his hand, you part from him and drag him along with you down the museums halls. It's like a real life storybook, a fairytale, only highlighted by the prince steadily on your arm.

Once you two finally get to your table, regardless of the amount of people there and present at your table, you're greeted by Finn when he sits beside you and rests his head against yours as if he hadn't just walked the whole way by your side.

"I can't wait to have the best sleep of my life tonight." He snorts, looking to you for a reaction. When you raise your eyebrows with intrigue, he rolls his eyes with a smirk and murmurs quieter, "yes, sleep. Whatever happens in the morning is a different story, but I'm already getting tired from all this talking and performing."

"...Deal." You hum, gently rubbing his knee under the table before interlocking your fingers with his on his lap. "But only because I love you."

"Yeah, well, I love you way more." He snickers, squeezing your hand to emphasize it.

metgalaofficial_

Liked by finnwolfhardofficial and others

metgalaofficial_ Finn Wolfhard and Y/N L/N at the MET Gala 2026! 📸 : Getty Images

user1 they did their met gala debut together and they MATCHED. they're so endgame wtf i'm gonna be sick 🫩😭

user2 where did all the people saying they're a pr relationship go?? crickets... i know that's right!!

> user3 they're embarrassed now!! as they should be

> user4 you guys are so easily convinced lol

> user5 oh you wanna be her sooo bad

user6 so we've all agreed that their new albums are gonna be about each other... right?? RIGHT??

user7 why was y/n hiding her hand in interviews? are they engaged?

> user8 don't jump to conclusions about celebs we don't know challenge GO!

> user9 they'd be so cute married if they are ☹️

> user10 if she's engaged we lost a baddie. I NEED HERRR

a/n hi!! well i HAD to write this immediately.. gave me a lil writing motivation which i needed!! :) very cutesy. also, i've never tried smau stuff before so i just wanted to incorporate it BRIEFLY as practice... picking out pics, captions, WHATEVA yk. i love u guys i am #workinghard and here's proof... BAI

not proofread. so sorry. eff it we ball. 🤤

[smalltown--byler]

"mike would've explored". yep, right after lasagna

[mattsstarlet]

tough day — matt sturniolo

terrible day he’s had. infuriating. frustration built up so quickly he couldn’t stop himself from crying. he’s far too competitive and he despises losing. he also hates how quick his brothers are to walk all over him. joke after joke, name calling — embarrassment and humiliation.

so here he was, crying and hiccuping in your bed, curled up with you, legs tangled together, his chest rising up and down against your body. he’s nuzzled his tearful face into your neck for comfort, your soft sweet scent calms him along with the action of your hand; lightly scratching his head.

and suddenly his head is all fuzzy, filled with need.

he shifts slightly, just enough for his chubbed cock to rest on your thigh. your hand on his hair comes to a halt, meeting his red rimmed eyes, still filled with tears.

“matt.”

the way you said his name, in a low calculated whisper, sent shivers down his spine. matt whines, practically drooling all over your neck. his lips subtly kiss the skin whilst he continues to hump your leg.

“please, i need this.” he mumbles, his cute little noises getting louder. “will make me feel much better, i promise.” his hand moves from your waist to your chest, groping your breasts through your tank top. “i’ll be good.”

he didn’t ask for permission and you didn’t bother to stop to him either. his hand slipped the strap off your shoulder, exposing your perky tit. his lips latch onto the pebble, languidly licking your nipple, hips still continuing their movements.

“my sweet, sweet boy,” you coo, holding back on any reactions to his wet tongue and lips sloppily working together. “you got it, baby, cmon.”

© 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗌𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗅𝖾𝗍

note ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ this should’ve been a blurb ngl

[hayleclipse]

𝐘𝐄𝐒, 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐘 ⌗ . ݁ ft. chris sturniolo

sum. chris messing with you during a live stream.

cw. annoying!chris, dirty talk?, suggestive, use of mommy obvi, no smut, literally chris just being a tease.

a/n. this was supposed to be the same universe as my when in doubt chris texts… but i kind of messed it up so there’s actually no correlation, you can still pretend. </3. wc. 1.1k

🎮 . 𓂃 ݁₊  𝓦alking into chris's room, you really had no idea what to expect. he texted you about an hour ago, telling you to "get your ass over here" and being the compliant girlfriend you are, you didn't hesitate when it came to picking up your car keys and getting the fuck out of your house.

as you opened his door, you noticed that he was sitting in his spinny chair, talking to someone on the computer. curiosity took over and you found yourself creeping up on the oblivious boy, only to realize that he was not as unaware as you thought.

see, chris had this special sixth sense when it came to you. he could just feel your presence, and with the quickest glance in your direction, he had his confirmation too. when you got close enough, you noticed him touching a bunch of random buttons on the keyboard, but you unfortunately didn't know what any of them meant. leading to your ultimate surprise when he practically jumped out of his chair, picked you up and threw you both onto his bed. giggles poured from your mouth, his favorite sound ever.

he held you close, nuzzling his face into your chest, "hi, baby. i missed you soo much," he mumbled.

"yeah?" you spoke softly, knowing that one word was absolutely one of his weaknesses. not the word itself, it was the way you said it. and only you made it sound like that to him. "who were you talking to?" you asked suddenly, running your hands through his hair. you didn't say it in a worried way or anything, you just wanted to know.

"the chat. i'm on stream," he replied, his eyes closed as he cuddled next to you like he could honestly not care less. how could he when he had you right here in his arms? he eventually sensed your unspoken concern, adding "don't worry, we're on mute."

"and why's that?"

"well i was hoping you would let me teach you how to play fortnite?" he looked up at you like he knew you were about to say no, but that was exactly why he needed to bring out his look.

instead of immediately declining like he thought you would, you asked, "what's in it for me?”

"you learn how to play fortnite," chris replied playfully, knowing that was probably the last thing you really wanted. it wasn't until he saw the look that you gave him when he added something you definitely had a stronger likelihood of liking, "and you get to sit on my lap."

a smile crept across you're face, "on stream?"

"yeah, on stream." he chuckled.

"i don't know," you said, adding a splash of doubt. it wasn’t that you didn’t want him to teach you, or even the game itself. it was the idea of getting in front of that camera and allowing thousands of people to talk about you however they wanted, even after the fact. and it wasn’t like you didn’t know what most of them would say.

"why don't you know?" chris’s hand moved to cradle your cheek in comfort, moving his thumb across the skin.

you sighed before explaining what was going on in your mind, "i'll probably become a joke. i drowned in a fucking pool the last time i played with you. and they all hate me anyways." you gestured towards the computer, waiting for him to understand what you meant, and it didn’t take very long at all.

you dramatically flopped onto your back looking up at the ceiling, until you felt his hand clasp around your chin as he gently forced you to look him in the eye. "listen, they're just mad because they're not you."

you just stared at him, not knowing what to say.

"please?" he pleaded within the next minute or two. his bottom lip pronounced as he pouted. you might as well just put him on a leash the way he begged you like a fucking puppy dog. but it was his look, the one you always ended up falling for.

"i hate when you do that," you groaned as you slid off the bed.

he hopped off his own bed, brushing your waist as he passed, almost like a beaconing. "yeah? well i love doing it."

you watched as chris took his seat in the gaming chair. chuckling because he knew he already had you hooked just by the way you couldn’t resist a smile.

still off screen, you looked at him with a furrowing brow, crossing your arms with a teasing demeanor. "so you love looking borderline submissive?"

he turned the chair to face you, saying with a playful wink, "only when it's for you."

"maybe we should just turn off the stream?" wanting to see where this conversation would land you tonight, you looked at him with a knowing look in your eye as you tried to reason with him.

chris was, of course, easily pulled into your trance, and it wasn’t very long until he gave into you. though he unexpectedly started shaking his head in defiance , not letting you get away with it that easily. he had to have some dignity. "no, no, no. i promised them."

“so?”

he placed his controller back on the desk, and the sound of the chair’s wheels made their way over to you, along with his hands as they found their place on your hips. he gently brought you closer to him and he looked up at you with those fucking eyes as he tried to persuade you. "how about you play one round and then we'll be done. deal?"

chris watched impatiently as you weighed your options, even though you were pretty much already on board the second he said you got to sit on his lap. and with a fake dramatic sigh, you pretended to give in, "deal. but don't you dare try shit like last time."

"whatever could you be talking about?"

he smirked up at you, knowing exactly what kind of gimmicks he would try to pull on you while you two were on stream.

he gestured for you to climb onto to him, and you already felt relieved to be this close with him again.

right before he started to move into the camera’s field of vision, you whispered to him, as if you guys were already unmuted, "just... behave."

"yes, mommy,” he breathed squeezing your thighs in his huge hands.

the touch on your skin was enough to send you over board, but there was something about the name that sent an unfamiliar feeling through your body. he’s never called you that before, it was completely unexpected and new. so shock immediately fell upon your face, quickly replaced with seriousness once you remembered you were about to be live in front of thousands of people.

not liking how you seemed to be upset with him, he was quick to apologize, "okay, i’m sorry, i’ll be good,” he placed a kiss on your cheek, before whispering in your ear, "i swear."

despite his efforts to make you believe him, you both knew he wasn’t going to stop messing with you anytime soon. because that’s just who chris was, and there was nothing you could do about it. it was like asking him to stop loving you. and he sure as hell wasn’t letting that happen.

© sturneclipse. all rights reserved.

⋆˙𝜗𝜚 ⸝⸝ 𝐍𝐀𝐓 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐒 𓂃 🗯️

🗒️ 𓂅 ⌗ lowkey this is not proofread so i hope it isn’t ass 💔

+ click here to join my tag list and for my masterlist .ᐟ

︎❦︎ ︎ tags: @sturns-mermaid @hannahsturniolo @sturniolo-fangirl @leahsturniolozz @leila-marie4

[doublewheelrr]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ I’M THE BITCH, AND YOU LOVE ME! ( mike wheeler 𝔁 mean girlfriend!reader )

<33# daphy’s note: this is dedicated to all the uppity bitchy (affectionate) girls who are mean to boys they like because they find it nearly impossible to be genuinely affectionate with people…. i see you we see each OTHA (reqs open as always!!!) i also had to add a random character in the lunch scene because none of the canon characters fit what i needed him to say in that scene so just bare with him plz

<33# warnings/content: no usage of y/n (you & [name] used), sort of an AU bc el and max go to school with the party (i wrote this with s4 mike in mind, but it honestly can be any era mike), reader is a tsundere (is that cringe to say) but she really does love mike shes just a diva, mike is right where he wants to be!!!! himbo!mike is canon to me argue with the wall, the reader is basically that one boondocks meme that’s like “bitch this chicken is cold,” the title is a reference to jackie burkhart from that 70s show (who the reader is very loosely based on)

<33# IN WHICH, Mike Wheeler loves his mean ass girlfriend.

“𝓨OU’RE TOO MEAN TO HIM, [NAME].” Your mother chided, her attention on the chicken she was currently cutting.

“Too Mean? To who?” You asked, your head in your hands with a bored look on your face.

You knew exactly who your mother was talking about. It wasn’t the first time she scolded you for the way you treated your boyfriend. She always claimed you were too snappy with him, that no boy would want to marry a girl who’s so hard on them.

Little did she know, Mike Wheeler was exactly where he wanted to be.

Mike strolled back into the kitchen after washing up. Your mom insisted on him staying for dinner after you two spent the entire day lounging around the house, bored to death. As much as you loved Mike, though from the outside looking in it wouldn’t look like it, you hated when he stayed over for dinner.

Your family just didn’t get the dynamic between you and Mike. Every time you scoffed at one of his nerdy jokes or jerked away from his attempts at kissing your cheek, your mother acted like you just punched Mike square in the face (something you wanted to do sometimes, truthfully).

When Mike sat back down at the counter next to you, he immediately wrapped his arm around you. In proper Mike fashion, he went to kiss you on the cheek. You grimaced and met his lips with the palm of your hand.

“When was the last time you washed your lips?” You asked ridiculously.

“Washed my lips?” Mike asked genuinely, eyes wide like a baby deer. He made it so hard to be nice to him when he was sitting there looking so cute. You’re starting to think looking at Mike gave you cuteness aggression.

“I’m not kissing your nasty boy lips.” You sassed, pushing his head further away from your face. You could feel Mike’s pout on your palm.

“See, [Name].” Your mother interjected, “Don’t you wish she was nicer to you, Michael?”

At least five seconds of silence passed. Both you and your mom stared at Mike, who was preoccupied by staring at the side of your face like your side profile put a spell on him. He didn’t realize your mother was talking to him until you pulled his cheek to get his attention.

“Huh? Uh… Sorry, what was the question?” Mike asked, trying to keep his eyes off of you, because clearly he couldn’t multitask admiring your face and keeping up a conversation.

“Just shake your head ‘no’, Mike.” You instructed. Mike did as you said immediately.

Your mother simply scoffed and turned back to her chicken. What she didn’t know was that the entire time you were denying Mike a kiss, your other hand was tracing hearts into Mike’s exposed thigh.

You remember the first time Mike asked you to be his girlfriend. The first out of many, many attempts.

The two of you were sitting in your room, your record player sounding throughout the calm atmosphere. Sweet Jane by The Velvet Underground, your recent favorite. Mike preferred the Banana Album. You called him pretentious, to which he just laughed.

You could feel him breathing heavily beside you, he was being unusually silent. You both had your backs to your headboard, sitting impossibly close to each other.

He suddenly got up from your bed, gangly limbs fumbling over themselves. Your eyes snapped away from the book you boredly picked up to his figure moving to stand in front of you on the other side of the bed.

“Mike, what the hell? Your entire back is drenched in sweat!” You shouted, pointing at the wet spot on the back of his shirt, it wasn’t even hot in your room, nor was it summer time. It was smack dab in the middle of March.

Mike didn’t respond, instead just drilling his eyes into your startled face.

“Hello? Earth to fuckface?” You snapped your fingers, “There better not be a damn sweat stain on my freshly washed sheets.”

“[Name].” Mike interrupted you, which you’ve told him time and time again not to do, “Stop talking for a second.”

“Excuse me?” You raised an eyebrow, where did Mike Wheeler get off telling you to be quiet?

“Please.” He quickly added, eyebrows meeting in the middle of his forehead with a pleading look.

“Continue.” You allowed, sitting back on your bed and picking up your book again. It looked like you were disinterested in what he had to say, but he knew you were listening.

“Listen, I’ve liked you for a long, long time. Maybe even… The ‘L’ word… If you know what I mean.” Mike started, his breath still heavy like he ran a marathon, “I think about taking you out all the time.”

You kept the same deadpan look on your face, nose still stuck to the pages of the book. You didn’t even know the title of it.

Mike kneeled down and rested his hands on your bed, “Will you be my girlfriend?” He finally asked.

If you knew better, you would’ve given in before he even said anything. But if you were put on this earth for one purpose, it was to make Mike work harder than he ever before.

“Mike, I’m reading.” You snarked, eyes narrowed at him. “Not only did you not bother to get me flowers, you got your boy juice all over my sheets, and you interrupted me reading.”

His mouth hung open, gaping like a fish. This was not at all how he anticipated this to go.

Actually, yes it was. He should’ve known better, you’ve trained him much better than that.

You got up, lightly pushing Mike aside to stand next to him. You gave him a once over before taking his arms and pulling him towards your door, not without lightly trailing your thumb up and down his forearm first.

“You will leave right now,” You started.

“Right now?” Commence puppy dog eyes.

“Right now.” You looked away. Not today, Bambi.

“You will leave and go home. Once you’re home, you’ll find your sister.” You instructed slowly, like you were talking to a small child.

“Nancy?” Mike blanched. He hadn’t taken his eyes off of you the entire time. You looked really beautiful in the dim light of your bedroom.

“Interrupt me one more time and I won’t let you ask me again.”

“You’re not rejecting me?” The smile on Mike’s face would’ve made someone think he won the lottery.

You raised an eyebrow, daring him to interrupt you again. He mumbled sorry and urged you to continue.

“You will ask Nancy the best way to ask a girl out. Then you’ll study what she says, get me flowers and wear something nice. Not drenched in sweat.”

Before Mike knew it, you pulled up to stand outside in the hallway while you leaned on your door frame.

“Find me in a week, then you try again.” You gave him an award winning smile that made him feel like it’d all be worth it. You barely caught him nodding vigorously before slamming the door on his face.

Little did you know, Mike found a fire burning in his heart. This was his mission, and by God he would achieve it even if it meant solving a hereditary sweat problem.

“You don’t think she’s just a bit mean?” Holden, the new boy at Hawkins High, questioned with genuine concern in his eyes.

The party had been nice enough to let Holden sit at their table since it was his first week. You, Max, and Jane always ate lunch behind the school at the picnic tables, claiming you “needed time away from all the testosterone.”

“Too mean?” Mike’s eyebrows shot up, as if he was genuinely confused why anyone would ever think you were a mean person.

“Yeah, she nearly cursed you out last period because you broke her concentration while she was doing her sudoku puzzle.”

“I feel like that’s valid, though. Sudoku is serious.” Dustin defended, stuffing the school pizza in his mouth. Will grimaced.

“She isn’t mean, she’s just passionate.” Mike sighed dreamily. “She even makes this cute face when she yells at me. Like an angry Charlie Brown character.”

“Exactly, Mike. Mean girls are the best kind of girls.” Lucas spoke up, sliding into the seat beside Holden, who looked deeply disturbed at his remark.

“Max also made me ask her out a bunch of times before she said yes. And even now, she makes me ask again on every date.” Lucas nodded.

“Wait, is [Name] not already your girlfriend, Mike?” Holden asked. Will had to shake Mike out of his [Name]-induced daydream to answer.

“I asked her last week but I sweated all over her sheets so she kicked me out and is making me try again.”

Holden burst out laughing, thinking Mike was joking. Then he stopped when he realized he was being dead serious.

“Hey, my sweating problems aren't a joke. My mom says it’s regular for a growing boy.” Mike said sternly, rolling his eyes at Dustin’s inability to stop himself from laughing.

“No, Mike. What the fuck? I’m not laughing about the sweat.” Holden clarified, staring at Mike in pure bewilderment, “I’m laughing at the fact that she made you ask her all over again for no reason.”

“There’s definitely a reason, I wouldn’t want to get asked out by a sweaty boy in my room either.” Will shrugged. Dustin and Lucas nodded along.

“It doesn’t even matter now because I’m gonna get it right this time. My plan is to show up in a [favorite band] t-shirt, throw rocks at her window like those cheesy movies she loves and blast music until she’s blown away and agrees to be my girlfriend.” Mike explained his plans, not even checking for the insane look Holden gave him.

“What kind of leash does she have on you, Wheeler?” The new boy asked, having half a mind to shake Mike’s shoulders to snap him out of it.

“A tight one.” Dustin interjected with a mouth full of pizza.

“Exactly how it should be.” Lucas smirked as he dapped Mike up.

Eventually, a week passed without a word from Mike. You continued on with your days, having sleepovers with Jane and Max, bothering Steve and Robin at the radio station with Dustin.

On that Friday, the vow of silence broke. You were met with pebbles hitting your window.

Lo and behold, Mike Wheeler standing with a boombox playing I Can’t Go For That by Hall & Oates, next to him on the grass laid a bouquet of [favorite color] flowers and a red shoe box. You prayed to whoever listening that Mike didn’t get you shoes.

“[Name]!” Mike’s face lit up like a thousand suns when you opened your window, “I did it!”

“This is definitely not what I told you to do, Michael.” Your monotone voice did nothing to deter him, in fact, it only made him smile wider.

“I’ll do anything that you want me to.” He sung along to the song, “I really, really, really—“

“Hurry up!” You screamed out the window. It was only a matter of time before a neighbor called to complain.

“I love you, [Name]!” He blurted, not looking the least bit embarrassed. Your entire face heated up, how dare Mike make your cold, dark heart feel all fuzzy.

You clenched your jaw, realizing there was no point in pretending like you weren’t just as whipped as Mike was.

Sighing, you shouted out the window, “Get up here, Michael. And get the damn flowers off the ground!”

Mike scurried to pause the record, grab the flowers and box, and climb up to your window. He threw his stuff in first before rolling into the room head first. You rolled your eyes at his immaturity. Why were all the cutest boys idiots?

Mike stood breathless in the middle of your room, trying his best to regulate how much he sweat. He ran all the way (two blocks) to your house from his because his bike tire popped. There was nothing stopping him from asking you out again.

“I got you these,” He said with a soft smile, handing you the flowers. Exactly the ones you envisioned. “And this…”

He held up the red shoe box, your face went from unimpressed to disgusted.

“Where in my instructions did I say get me ugly ass shoes?” You were convinced if you knocked on Mike’s head, a brisk breeze would course through.

He laughed, “They aren’t shoes, honey.”

You couldn’t even pretend to cringe at the pet name. Damn it, Mike had you right where he wanted you.

Mike opened the box to reveal a mixtape on top of a bunch of wrapping paper. Written on it was “To the sweetest girl in the world” in messy handwriting that definitely belonged to the boy in front of you. Your heart clenched. When did you become such a sucker?

“I know you hate when I don’t follow instructions, but you never mentioned wanting anything besides flowers. So, I took creative liberty.” His face was a bright red now, he blushed from his feet to his hairline almost.

He reached into the box and pulled the mixtape out. He stepped out of your arms (you didn’t even realize you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, you just seemed subconsciously pulled towards him) and shuffled towards your cassette player. He popped the tape into it and walked back over to you.

The first song was Never Tear Us Apart by INXS, a song Mike knew you loved.

“You are such a suck up, Wheeler.” You grinned, this time it was genuine. You could never give Mike a ten, but for all this effort, he’d get a nine and a half.

“I fucked up last time, but I’d ask you a hundred times again if it meant you’d say yes just once.” Mike reached to move your hair out of your face, “So, [Name], will you let me be your boyfriend?”

Your heart fluttered, you moved your arm to play with Mike’s hair. Just as you went to say yes, something made you pause. You felt behind Mike’s neck and pulled out what stopped you.

“Mike, what the fuck?” In your hands was a drenched piece of paper. Your eyes flickered back to his face, which looked stupid as always.

“You said not to come drenched in sweat.” Mike explained, acting as if his actions were perfectly logical, “I didn’t have any tissues, so I used my math homework.”

You gently pushed Mike away from you to look at the paper. His sweat smudged the ink writing and made the equations look like hieroglyphics. This was the same worksheet you asked him for help on a week ago, but he kept making excuses, like saying he doesn’t remember where he put it. Clearly he remembers now.

All you could do was deadpan. Mike looked down at you with his big brown eyes and somehow that only made you angrier.

You sighed, “Michael.”

“Yes?” Mike answered like a soldier.

“Get out of my room, go home, shower and try again in a week.” You instructed as your eye twitched.

Out of everything you said, all Mike clearly heard was “try again next week.”

He nodded (you swore you heard his brain knocking against the fleshy walls of his head) and abruptly turned to your door.

“Uh, what do you think you’re doing?” You stopped him. His head tilted like a puppy. Not today, Bambi.

“Leaving so I can catch the bus to the store….” He answered dumbly, “I need to pick up soap. I ran out two days ago.”

You didn’t even have the energy to unpack that at the moment. You pointed towards your window that was still halfway open.

“Out the way you came, gym sock.”

Mike laughed at the insult, turning towards the window. Right as he was halfway out, he turned back to plant a kiss on your cheek before you could turn away. You were sure he could feel just how hot your cheek was.

“Enjoy the mixtape, see you in a week.” With that, Mike jumped down the rest of the way and ran into the night.

You rolled your eyes, mumbling a “stupid idiot” before going downstairs to find a vase to put Mike’s flowers in.

[dogbutchjude]

“will is over mike” bro look at his face i think he wants to be under him