Hiii, I'd like to request a Tsukishima fic with a rivals to lovers/mutual pining trope for your event!
༊·˚ Academically confused
⟡ featuring: tsukishima kei
⟡ cw: angst, lmk if i missed anything else
⟡ a/n: i love tsukki being an academic rival even if it is cheesy and has been written a million times so i hope you like it becaus ei enjoyed wwriting it <3
You met Tsukishima Kei during your first week of university, and it was less of a meet-cute and more of a mutual eye roll of annoyance with the class.
He was standing outside the lecture hall with his headphones around his neck, scrolling through something on his phone. You figured he was in the same literature class as it was the only one scheduled in this hall at this hour. You stood beside him, nervously scrolling through your schedule, worried you might miss a class or go to the wrong classroom, your stomach a tight ball of nerves from first week anxiety. Meanwhile, Tsukishima’s expression was bored like he had something better to do than stand in the hallway waiting for the professor to finally arrive
“Intro to Lit?” you asked, more to ground yourself than anything else.
“Unfortunately,” he replied in a grumble, barely glancing at you.
Your eyebrows lifted. Rude.
With his attitude being your first impression of him, you decided to observe him more. He was tall, lanky, and had a mouth that just looked like it was made for snide remarks. The glasses perched on his nose gave him a false sense of kindness and soft mannerisms that didn’t match the bored, piercing look in his eyes. Something about him made your skin prickle.
You offered your name, trying to make small talk as you continued to wait because maybe he wasn’t so bad after all and you were just making assumptions?
He just nodded. “Tsukishima.” No first name. No smile.
You stood there, dumbfounded at his tone and right then and there, you decided immediately: you didn’t like him.
-
It didn’t take long for things to even more of a sour turn.
As if the universe didn’t hate you enough, he was in so many of your other classes.
Tsukishima always had something to say. Always has something to argue, Whether it was during lecture discussions, group debates, or casual commentary in the hallway— he had the annoying ability to make you feel like your ideas were isiotic even when you knew they weren’t.
You'd raise your hand in class, offering a passionate argument on a literary theme, and before you could even finish, his voice would cut in with a counterpoint all while in a calm, quiet, irritatingly confident tone of voice.
The first time he challenged you outright during a discussion, it was in front of the packed lecture hall in your literature class. You’d barely finished your point about the topic when his voice cut in, quoting some stupid philosopher and immediately shifting the room's attention. A couple students murmured in agreement. Your professor nodded thoughtfully. Your face burned. Your blood boiled. He didn't raise his voice or get defensive. No, he just smirked and quoted some cheesy line like it was meant to start your downfall. And that smug look on his face? Infuriating.
“You know, not everything has to be a competition,” you muttered as you passed him after class.
He barely looked up from his phone. “I’m not competing. I’m just right.”
You stopped dead in your tracks, whipping around to glare at him.
He finally looked up, calm as ever, and added with a tilt of his head, “Unless you're admitting you lost?”
From that moment on, it was war.
The rivalry was public and relentless. Classmates groaned whenever your hands shot up at the same time. Your professors, amused and slightly exhausted, began using you two as examples for everything from "healthy debate" to "spirited academic disagreement."
You upped your game, citing more sources, editing your arguments to perfection. But no matter what you did, he met you move for move, like you were playing the world’s longest game of chess. Once, you caught him leaving the library at 3 a.m. the night before a major presentation. He smirked and said, "Just making sure I stay one step ahead of you."
You hated how good he was. Hated how much you wanted to beat him. Hated how thrilling it was every time he pushed you to be sharper, quicker, smarter.
And worse of all is how you hated how alive it made you feel.
-
It was like you had the worst luck. After break you walked into a class and there he was again, sitting front row.
You both ended up in the same science Gen Ed class and the professor, clearly having heard of you two, paired you together for the semester long project.
“This is going to be fantastic,” you said, voice flat with sarcasm.
Tsukishima didn’t look up from his laptop. “Can you manage to not be dramatic for these next few months?”
“Can you manage to not be an asshole?”
He smirked again. Of course he did.
Still, you met at the library that weekend, both too stubborn to back out and too competitive to risk a low grade. The air between you was filled with unspoken tension, but neither of you dared acknowledge it. You were both too proud to admit it mattered. An hour in, you were dividing the workload, building out the outline, arguing over methodology but either way you were still working and efficiently at that.
And then something shifted.
“You’re not completely hopeless,” he said, glancing at your screen.
“Wow,” you deadpanned. “How very kind of you.”
You said it with a sneer, but your stomach fluttered anyway.
Over the next few weeks, the library became your routine. He brought drinks, you brought snacks. You debated over formatting, but shared surprising laughs during breaks. You found his dry sense of humor addictive. And he didn’t just tolerate your sarcasm— he matched it.
Sometimes, you caught him looking at you like he was trying to solve a puzzle, eyes flicking to your lips, lingering on your hands as you gestured, taking in your every move like there was something deeper underneath he couldn’t quite put his finger on. And sometimes, you looked back, wondering how someone so infuriating could start to feel like a comfort.
One night, you left the library late. The air was cold, and you’d forgotten your jacket. Without a word, he shrugged off his hoodie and handed it to you.
You wore it for three days before giving it back. He never askedabout it.
-
It hit you on a Thursday night.
He was sitting across from you, eyes squinting slightly behind his glasses as he read over your notes. His hair was a mess. He looked exhausted but determined. Your knees brushed under the table but neither of you pulled away.
Suddenly, it wasn’t just friendship. It wasn’t rivalry. It was him. Everything about him. The way he furrowed his brows in concentration, the way he remembered throughout the weeks that you liked matcha more than coffee, the way he made space for you at the table like it was second nature at this point.
You were in trouble.
You told yourself it was just circumstance. That it would pass once the project was done with. But it only got worse.
He started texting you just to ask you about your day or just send you random articles about topics you both talked about the day prior. He dragged you to a science museum for your project but ended up wandering the exhibits with you like it was a date. He brushed your shoulder, lingered when he handed you notes, stared at your mouth a little too long when you talked or smiled.
“You’re not what I expected,” he said one night on your walk home.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I don’t hate this.”
Your heart clenched painfully. Because you didn’t hate it either. And that’s what terrified you.
But it was also everything else.
You noticed the little things. How his fingers would tap when he was trying not to say something. How he sat closer to you every week, until your bags touched. How he rolled his eyes at you in class, but smiled when you laughed at something dumb. He didn’t flirt but that is only because he didn’t know how. But his affection was in the details.
You found yourself rereading your text threads just to feel close to him whenever you wouldn’t meet up. You looked for him first in every room. You caught yourself doodling his name in the margins of your notes and hated that you’d become that person.
Then one night, he handed you a USB drive, silent and unreadable.
“What’s this?” you asked.
“The photos from the museum. You said you wanted to use them in the presentation.”
You opened the files later that night, expecting exhibit photos.
Half of them were of you.
Candid, focused, smiling. You hadn’t even known he was taking them.
And that’s when you knew,
You were in love with him.
And maybe he felt it too.
But that maybe is what drove you away.
-
You panicked. Every instinct screamed at you to retreat, to put up your walls before you fell any deeper. So you skipped your next meeting. Left his texts on read. Started arriving to class late and leaving early. You convinced yourself it was necessary to keep things from getting complicated, from becoming real. But it already was
You started skipping study sessions. Delayed your replies to his texts. Avoided eye contact in lectures. Told yourself you were just keeping things in check, keeping things safe.
Except it wasn’t safe. It was lonely.
Every second you spent apart from him felt like you were being punished for wanting something you didn’t deserve. Your chest ached with words you couldn't say, and your throat burned with the effort of pretending you didn’t care. You told yourself it was better this way and that the line between rivals and something more was too blurry, too risky. That Tsukishima Kei would never look at you that way.
But when you saw him across the room, laughing with someone else, you felt hollow. And when you heard his name but not his voice, it was a reminder of everything you were pushing away.
Tsukishima noticed. Of course he did.
He caught you outside lecture one day, voice sharper than anything you’ve heard from him before.
“You’re avoiding me.”
You didn’t answer. Just shifted your weight awkwardly.
“Why?” he pressed.
“I’m just… busy.”
“Bullshit.”
You flinched. His eyes burned into your own.
“Why does it matter?” you snapped.
He looked like you’d slapped him.
“Because I thought we were… something,” he said, voice low, almost hoarse. “I don’t know what, but… not just rivals anymore.”
You couldn’t answer. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t bear to see that hurt look in his eyes. So you turned and walked away.
But with every step, it felt like something inside you was unraveling.
You couldn’t sleep that night. Every sarcastic comment, every stolen glance, every near-confession played on a loop in your mind like a movie you couldn’t pause. You kept telling yourself it was better this way, clean lines, no blurred boundaries but all it felt like was losing.
Because for the first time, you didn’t want to win anything.
You just wanted him.
-
A few days passed since you walked away from him.
You didn’t see him in the library. You didn’t get a single message. Your matcha tasted worse. Everything felt heavier…weirder.
You saw him sitting on the library steps one evening, framed by golden light from the tall windows behind him. The campus was quiet, wispy pink clouds scattered the sky, and he looked so still, so unlike his usual collected self. He looked up as you approached, headphones around his neck, a question in his eyes that he didn’t voice. You didn’t need him to. You already knew.
“I miss you,” you said, voice trembling.
He blinked slowly, like he was trying to make sense of your presence.
“I was scared,” you admitted. “Of you. Of me. Of what this was turning into. It was easier to pretend it didn’t matter.”
“But it does,” he said softly.
You nodded. “It really, really does.”
Silence settled between you like snow.
Then, “I thought I was the only one,” he confessed. “Thought I was misreading everything. That I ruined it.”
“No,” you breathed, and reached for his hand. “You didn’t ruin anything. I did. And I want to fix it.”
He looked down at your joined hands, then up at you, something unreadable in his expression.
“I didn’t know how to stop needing you,” he said, voice low. “Even when you pulled away.”
You leaned your forehead against his. “Then don’t stop.”
And when he kissed you, it was like everything you’d been running from caught up to you all at once. The longing, the fear, the electricity of what had always been there. It was messy, and warm, and real.
cheerleaders are supposed to be stupid– right? so why in the world did you consistently score higher than everyone in your and mike’s chemistry class? impossible.
or,
mike can’t handle the idea of you being smarter than him, and he’s determined to throw you off course. but, you two are paired together for a project, and mike starts to realize that maybe–just maybe–you aren’t as bad as you seem.
mike wheeler x cheerleader!reader - requested here
word count: 17.2k (please trust me)
cw: (one-sided) academic rivals to lovers, mike is a little shit, reader whips him into shape, jealous mike, slowburn, confessions, kissing, cursing, perhaps some yearning nachos, angst, no past mileven, forced kissing (not from mike though!!!), yes mr. clarke is their high school teacher, reader is a secret nerd (is it really a secret though), yes title is from harry styles, no i have not taken chemistry, not very proofread
Mike Wheeler had always, always been good at science. It was the subject that came to him most naturally, the thing he could do on his own just fine after one practice problem. Science was a fascination of his, stirring deep thoughts of wonder in his mind and consistently making him want to seek out more knowledge.
But, as much as he hated to admit it, math proved to be a struggle for him. He could never quite memorize the formulas the way he was supposed to, and made so many careless mistakes that even the simplest of problems would result in a wrong answer.
So, when you came on, math as your strong-suit and just as good at science as he was, Mike couldn’t stop the rage that bubbled inside of him.
It made zero sense to him. One minute, you were out on the sidelines, screaming whatever stupid chant your predecessors had created to try and hype the rest of the student body, and the next, you were somehow acing every single chemistry test thrown your way. It stunned Mike in a way no thing–aside from the whole Upside Down fiasco–ever had.
Weren’t cheerleaders supposed to be stupid? Air-headed? You beat every expectation he had placed on you, and it nearly gave him whiplash. And somehow, people actually liked you, said you were sweet, and placed you on a pedestal Mike could only dream to be on. But Mike wasn’t buying your niceties for one second.
He believed that everything about you was fake and manufactured. There was no way a cheerleader should’ve been beating him at the thing he was supposed to be good at. It was utter nonsense. And no, he wasn’t jealous. He was just irritated by the fact that you of all people were smarter than he was. He was definitely not jealous.
When your first test scores had come back, Mike’s mouth had involuntarily fallen slack as he watched Mr. Clarke praise your near perfect score, the score that Mike should’ve made. Instead, he was stuck with a massive C-minus written at the top of his paper, and it made him so infuriated in the moment that he felt an urge to tear his paper to shreds right there.
“I just– how?! She must’ve cheated!” Mike scoffed later that day, rolling his eyes dramatically as his friends watched, silently amused.
“Now, how would she go about that?” Dustin questioned, raising an eyebrow from above the sandwich in his hands. “You know Mr. Clarke runs a tight ship.”
“I don’t care. She must’ve. Somehow,” Mike grumbled again, poking aimlessly at the mush that he was supposed to eat on his tray. The rest of the Party only exchanged glances at each other in response, silently agreeing to not push this issue more.
From that day on, Mike had made it his mission to hate you. He would never give into the spells that you seemed to cast on everyone you were around, and he sure as hell would never think any of your chemistry work was valid. It just can’t be, he would say in defense to his friends on days where you had just particularly irritated him.
You were such a tryhard, and it irked Mike every single time. Every time you raised your hand in class, he responded with a not-so-silent groan, earning some suspicious looks from your fellow peers as he slumped forward on his desk in a dramatic gesture. You apparently held biweekly study groups with some of the people in your shared class. Gross, Mike thought, right before a sudden urge appeared in his mind to interrupt a session and tell everyone they were under spells, and that you might as well be a pawn of the Mind Flayer. Dustin had been the one to shake that idea out of him.
Mike hated practically everything about you. But the worst part of it all, the thing that kept Mike up at night, was that hating you was getting him absolutely nowhere. He hadn’t shown much improvement on any of his tests, and had only struggled more and more as the class progressed. It made him angrier than anything, the fact that you were still leagues ahead of him after nearly two months.
Just when Mike was at his lowest, Mr. Clarke posed a new opportunity to their class. Turns out that chemistry wasn’t as easy as you had made it seem, and several people were in desperate need of grade-boosters before everyone was let out for Spring Break. Mike was relieved, finally able to see the light at the end of the tunnel. If he aced this project, then he would be saved from the wrath of his parents when they inevitably discovered his report card. Besides, a project was always better than a midterm, right?
Wrong. Oh, Mike was so wrong.
Mike had held all hopes that the first day of the project would go smoothly. Mr. Clarke had said something about it being partner-based, but Mike had neglected to actually read the directions paper before walking to class that day. So when Mike heard that his teacher had hand-selected the partner pairings, he immediately knew something bad was bound to happen. And of course it did.
Mike didn’t hear what Mr. Clarke said after he called your name alongside Mike’s. His thoughts turned to fuzz as pure anger swept through his bones, and he clenched down on his own hands so hard that he thought he was going to break his fingers. His eyes bore into the side of your head, hoping that by some miracle this had all been his imagination and his brain was just playing tricks on him.
He could barely believe his luck. Of course he would be stuck with you. The second he had heard your name, all hopes of completing the project vanished from his mind, as he knew that he would never work with someone like you. You were a stuck-up, pretentious asshole who would probably just make fun of him the moment he turned around. He hated you, and now his project was bound to suffer. You probably weren’t even going to help since you were only passing through cheating. Great.
Mike completely tuned out Mr. Clarke’s words for several long minutes as he silently steamed over the idea of working with you. Eventually, Mr. Clarke told the class to break off with their partners and start throwing around ideas for what they could do. Mike stiffened when your once still form rose up from your seat and began to walk in his direction. He was so focused on trying to not scream right then that he didn’t catch whatever you said to introduce yourself to him.
“Hello…?” You trailed, your brow slowly raising upward as you stood in front of him. Shit.
“What?” He said, his tone already irritated. Not that he really cared to hide it anyway. Your eyebrow only lifted higher as you took the empty seat in front of him and cleared your throat.
“I said hi. Did you really not hear?” You asked, your head tilting just slightly. When Mike made no sound or movement, you shook your head, trying to ignore how awkward he was acting. “Whatever. You’re…Michael, right?”
“Mike,” he murmured absentmindedly, his voice just as offended as before. You sighed in response.
“Mike, sorry. Well, it’s good to meet you. I’ve heard you’re smart so, I’m assuming this should be pretty simple, ri–” Your tone was so obviously manufactured to be nice that Mike rolled his eyes and let out a loud groan, abruptly cutting you off.
“You can just stop trying, okay? I’m not falling for your act,” he huffed out, shaking his head as he avoided any and all eye contact with you.
“What act?” You asked with what Mike perceived as forced curiosity, your eyebrow raising upward once more.
“Y’know, the whole ‘oh look at me, I’m so nice’ thing. I know it’s fake,” Mike scoffed, an irritated smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. You leaned forward just slightly, as if you couldn’t believe that he had found out your secret.
“Excuse me?” You scoffed in turn, a half-laugh falling off of your lips at his absurdity.
“I mean, you guys are all like that, right? Cheerleaders are notorious for being stuck-up and pretentious,” Mike looked at you this time, immediately thrown off by the small smile you wore while he spoke. Why were you not absolutely seething right now?
“If that’s what you think. I’ve never been like that,” You shrugged, still smiling like you were completely unaffected by his statements.
“And I’m not borderline failing this class,” he murmured absentmindedly, rolling his eyes in a different direction.
“Wh– You’re failing?” Your eyes widened at near light-speed, and Mike’s heart dropped in return. Shit. He hadn’t meant for you to hear that.
“No– I didn’t–”
“Listen, it’s fine. Your interpretation of me is actually really, um, interesting,” You shook your head with a small smile, politely dismissing the former matter like it was nothing. Mike could hardly grasp what was happening. “I mean, I’ve never met someone who has acted like they hate me right off the bat.”
“I’m not acting,” Mike stated, voice reverting back to the irritated sound that he seemed to have reserved for you.
“Oh, so you hate me?” You tilted your head, a skeptical smirk plastered to your face. Mike was starting to feel himself get angrier and angrier with the fact that you seemed to not be upset by this information at all.
“Correct. Wow, maybe you really aren’t as air-headed as you seem,” Mike nodded, pushing his confusion to the back of his head and forcing a fake grin onto his face. You shook your head in response.
“You’re funny, Mike. Honestly,” you let out another small laugh, crossing your arms on top of the desk as you leaned forward. “One-sided beef with a girl you’ve never met? I mean, wow.”
“I don’t have to know you to know how evil you are. All cheerleaders are inherently devil-spawn,” Mike reasoned, leaning forward and mirroring your position as if you two were in some kind of stand-off.
“Aren’t you in the club everyone thinks is satanic?” You hummed, raising a brow and looking at him with a knowing smirk. Mike’s grin faded and he looked away, trying and failing to find an argument against you.
“I– that’s different.”
“Okay, Mike. Whatever you say,” you laughed again, and Mike was starting to get sick of that sound. You flipped the conversation on its head, trying to turn to what you were actually supposed to be discussing. “Listen, we need to focus. I think we could get this done quickly and efficiently. Mr. Clarke has talked you up a lot.”
“Hold on, you’re not gonna argue with me?” Mike asked, completely ignoring what you had just said. He wasn’t ready to drop this, not yet. You were already rolling your eyes, your hand lifting to rub the bridge of your nose.
“Oh my god, back to this? Mike, I know some of the girls in the squad–”
“Cult,” he cut you off with a scoff. You shot him an unamused look.
“–are actually evil, I’m not one of them. I try to distance myself as best as I can. I only hang out with them because I have to,” you sighed, your eyes never once leaving his. He could tell you were trying your best to convince him, but fortunately for Mike, he was immune to your spells.
“I still don’t believe you. Cheerleaders are also good at being fake, right?” He tilted his head, his smirk reappearing as he watched your lips form into a thin line. Finally, the reaction he had been looking for.
“You–” your words were cut off by the buzzing of the bell, signaling the end of the class period. You looked up and let out a sigh, as if you were cursing the thing in your head. You turned back to Mike, voice suddenly serious. “I’m gonna ignore the fact that you just wasted our time. I have practice today, but I can meet after school tomorrow in the library so we can get started. I’ll even bring a drink for you or something, if you want.”
“I highly doubt that,” He shook his head, scoffing as he moved to grab his backpack. You were already standing, rolling your eyes while a small smile tugged at your lips. What?
“Whatever. See you tomorrow, Wheeler,” You turned away, shooting him one last look before you walked away, leaving him in the classroom.
Mike was baffled for the rest of the day. You had barely even seemed upset after Mike’s words, even though he knew that the truth should’ve stung. In fact, you had basically treated everything he said as a joke. Did you just not take him seriously? Or were you really that comfortable with being evil? It all confused him so much that he could hardly pay attention in the remainder of his classes for the day, his brain so clogged by bewilderment that he barely got any work done.
Despite the uncertainties in his mind, Mike was still determined to veer you off course. He had decided to make it his mission to get you to realize the error of your ways, and to prove to the rest of Hawkins High that you were nothing more than a dumb cheerleader.
The next day rolled around quicker than Mike thought it would, and he was dreading having to talk to you again. He had complained so much to his friends about it during the day that by sixth period, he thought that Dustin was going to strangle him out of frustration.
Eventually, the final bell of the day rang, and Mike did everything in his power to slow the process of meeting you in the library. He asked his teacher a few pointless questions that he already knew the answer to, he walked slower to his locker, and even sat in the bathroom and stared at his reflection for a few minutes. At some point, he begrudgingly forced himself to walk to your meeting place, knowing how bad it would look if he chose to not show up.
Even with walking as slow as he would allow himself to, Mike still found himself at the library doors sooner than he expected, and silently cursed himself when he saw you sitting at a table inside. He had been secretly hoping that by the grace of whatever god was out there that something might go wrong, that you wouldn’t be there anyway and Mike wouldn’t have to talk to you.
Of course, it hadn’t worked out in Mike’s favor, and he could feel his resistance giving in. He thought back to the day before and how you had been so casual about the fact that you were evil, and his anger grew back so fast that he nearly hurled the door open. He forced himself to calm down, knowing that it would only look worse for him if he lost his composure. After taking a deep breath, Mike opened the door and walked through the library. You seemed to perk up at the sight of him, and Mike almost felt guilty for leaving you waiting.
Almost– because he immediately remembered how much he hated you.
“There you are,” You sighed, your frame relaxing into your chair as a soft smile grew on your lips. “Was starting to think you wouldn’t show up. Here,” you reached into your bag, pulling out a bright orange soda and sliding it across the table. His favorite. Mike looked between you and the drink, confusion immediately rising in his chest.
“What– how did you–”
“I actually have Honors U.S. History with Dustin. He’s actually really nice to talk to,” you hummed, leaning against the back of your chair as you waited for Mike to sit across from you.
“Yeah, he is. But how did you know he was my friend?” He asked, his voice gaining a defensive edge that made your eyebrow quirk upwards. He was still standing, not exactly ready to give you the gratification of sitting down.
“You guys literally walk around like you are in your own little clique,” you laughed to yourself, and Mike knew the face he was making wasn’t pretty. “It’s honestly admirable how you’ve managed to keep so many people away from you for this long.”
“You sound like a stalker,” Mike said, his tone becoming accusatory within seconds. He rolled his eyes, taking a step away from the table. “Like I said, your act is never gonna work.”
“Again, not an act. Can you really not believe that I’m a nice person?” Your demeanor changed as quickly as his did, quickly lit up by his comments. Perfect, Mike thought.
“Nope. You’re an evil liar,” he crossed his arms with a small smirk, and it only agitated you further. Why couldn’t he just be normal?
“Wow, thanks for letting me know. I’ll try to do better for you,” You scoffed, getting tired of how incessant he was on the fact that you were some vile creature. You couldn’t wrap your head around the possibility of anyone thinking these kinds of things about you, let alone someone who barely knew you anyways. This was the second conversation you had ever had with Mike Wheeler, and he was already proving to be a thorn in your side.
“Like you could actually care,” he scoffed again, a sound that was almost like a laugh, and you had to clench your fists together. Anger was bubbling inside you, like a ticking bomb ready to go off at even the slightest of pokes. One more snarky remark, and you would be set off.
“Mike. Please stop. I can’t do this,” you sighed out, slumping in your chair as a frown grew on your lips.
“Do what? Confront the truth–” he pushed you again, and you physically could not hold back your words anymore. You leaned forward, staring dead at him as you cut him off with no shame.
“You and I both know how bad you need this. I know you’re on the verge of failing, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll shut the hell up, and we can start this project,” you said sternly, not once looking away from Mike’s eyes. Your voice was lower, and your lips were stuck in a thin line that spoke a thousand more threats that Mike didn’t want to hear.
A pit had dropped open in Mike’s stomach at your words. He had never seen someone with such an intense yet overwhelmingly calm rage, and it spooked him more than anything. All of the fight left his body in an instant as you pierced holes into his eyes, and he knew it was useless to resist you. Fuck.
“Am I clear, Wheeler? Or do I need to dumb it down for you?” You asked when he didn’t respond, and Mike felt the pit in his stomach sink even further.
“N- no, I think I got it,” he shook his head quickly, finally letting his hand reach for the seat across from yours as he moved to sit down.
“I knew you had it in you,” you smiled gingerly, your mood doing another speedy one-eighty before you quickly shifted into the topic of your chemistry project, already throwing out several ideas for what you and Mike could work on.
Mike forced himself to stay on topic as the two of you discussed your project, knowing that if he said the wrong thing, you might walk away. Then you’d really be evil. How in the world had he been swayed by you so easily? He had convinced himself the day before that he was exempt from your act, that he could never be fooled by the front you put on. And yet, within seconds, he had folded. How stupid was that?
He couldn’t figure out what made him keep going back to you. He hated you…right? Why would he constantly put himself through the torture of staying after school just to hear you talk about a project that was basically optional anyways? He finally was able to land on the excuse of needing the grade really bad, which was true, but he still felt like the entire reason was out of his grasp. He kept pushing it down and out of his thoughts though, not wanting to think about you more than was necessary.
So, much to his distaste, you and Mike kept meeting to put together your project. He supposes it wasn’t all that bad, as you typically had a drink or snack waiting for him, and you kept the bragging and evilness to a minimum. If Mike didn’t know better, he’d say you were improving from your inherent ways of life and changing for good. But thankfully he knew better.
This topic crept back into your conversations day after day, usually with Mike asking things like ‘how evil on a scale of one to ten have you felt today?’ or ‘how are the other members of your cult?’ No matter how stupid his little one-liners were, they always managed to pull a laugh and a ‘shut up, Wheeler,’ out of you, and it was starting to become something of an inside joke between the two of you. The two of you fell into a routine, and in the process, slowly became an unlikely pair that neither of you could have imagined.
Because of your shared intelligence, you and Mike had been constantly bouncing off of each other with ideas, and had been so productive that your project was nearly complete a whole week before it was due. And while you realistically should’ve wanted the time away from Mike, something was holding you back from fully separating from him. You figured it was just your competitive spirit, though deep down, you knew that part of you wasn’t quite ready to let go of the banter Mike brought to your life.
For a stranger who most of the people in your life would immediately label as an outcast or freak, Mike had, for the most part, been one of the realest people you’d ever meant. He never tried to force himself to act a different way around you because of your status, unlike pretty much everyone who came into contact with you did. He was unabashedly himself, and was never afraid to speak his mind– even if it was him attempting to get you to admit that you were just as he had first perceived you. No one in your life had ever had that kind of authenticity, and it made you admire Mike more than you’d like to admit.
Because of that–well, maybe not just that–you had decided that it wasn’t time to rid of Mike’s presence in your life. Not yet.
You knew that Mike was still struggling with your regular work through several comments he had made over your time together, and the midterm was on its way anyway, so you figured that you and Mike could spend more time together through studying. Just studying. Nothing more.
So, on a random Tuesday right before class ended, you approached him. Mike was almost scared when you came up to his desk, his brain immediately going to the worst, but it all faded when you asked him a simple question.
“I know you said some stuff about the work still throwing you off, so…” you trailed with a grin on your face. Mike raised a skeptical eyebrow. “How would you like to join my study group? It’s really not that much pressure, and the people there are mostly tolerable–”
“Sure,” he replied quickly. Too quickly, but the word had already left him when the realization hit him. Mike cleared his throat, hand reaching for the back of his neck while he prayed you didn’t notice his sudden awkwardness. You did, but it brought a smile to your lips.
“I mean– yeah, I’d like that. Just as long as it’s not a secret cult thing,” he smirked up at you, and you instinctively rolled your eyes playfully.
“I wouldn’t put you through that,” you laughed, and the sound made Mike’s stomach nearly surge out of his chest. Strange. “It’s Tuesdays and Thursdays. Is that good with you?”
“Yeah, I just might have to miss a couple. Um– Eddie, y’know, likes to do things pretty spontaneously, so,” he laughed lightly, rubbing the back of his neck again. What was up with him today?
“No worries. We don’t have an attendance policy. It’s casual,” you smiled, voice genuine, and relief filled Mike’s chest in response. “I know it’s last minute, so you don’t have to show up today if you have plans–”
“I’ll be there,” he spoke out again, and dammit, why in the world did he keep doing that? He was almost embarrassed before you smiled gingerly, and that weird relief rushed back into his stomach like it had never left in the first place.
“Perfect,” you hummed, and right as you seemed like you might say something else, the sound of the bell shot sharply through your classroom. In an instant, you were waving Mike bye, and the next moment, you were completely out of his sight.
The rest of the day, Mike was at a loss for that entire interaction. Why had he acted like that? He had never been that awkward around you, and it had been like he was nervous to speak to you. Mike had never once been intimidated by you, despite your social status throughout the school. From the beginning he had believed that it was you who should’ve been afraid of him, since he knew your truth. But Mike wasn’t exactly hellbent on proving how evil you were to everyone anymore. So what gives? Why did he wake up that day and turn into an awkward wreck around you?
Whatever it was, Mike decided it was best to push it down. He was usually better at that anyways, and he figured he was probably just having an off-day.
After sitting through his classes all day, Mike was more than eager to attend your study group when the final bell finally went off. He nearly shot out of his seat at the sound, wasting no time in his journey to the library. When he got there, he noticed a small group of students already forming, and right as he was about to walk over, he realized that you were not there.
Of course. A familiar pit opened up in Mike’s stomach as his thoughts began to spiral again, already embarrassed at himself for actually believing you. Mike should’ve known you were just baiting him. He was ready to call it quits, to walk out and never speak to you again when—
“Hey, you okay?” your voice cut through the fog in his head, startling him so much that he nearly jumped. His eyes widened at the sight of you, thrown off by the look of genuine concern on your face. He almost thought he was imagining it.
“Yeah I just—“ he started, eyes shifting nervously back to the group of the students on the other side of the library before returning back to you. His voice was uncharacteristically quiet, full of something akin to surprise. “I didn’t see you.”
You paused for a second, letting his words sink in your mind before a knowing smirk took over your face. “Did you not trust me?” You asked in your own quiet voice, though Mike had a feeling you knew the answer. He only smiled sheepishly, eyes darting to the floor. Your laugh brought his eyes back to your face, and his mind went blank as he felt your hand come into contact with his shoulder.
“I wouldn’t trust me either. Since I’m evil and stuff,” you laughed even more, and Mike’s stomach did that weird thing again. Seriously, was he getting sick or something?
“Sorry, I guess I just was a little nervous about this. Y’know, new people and stuff,” he shrugged as the two of you walked further into the library.
“I get it. If it’s too much pressure, you can leave,” you hummed lightly, leaning slightly closer to his frame and looking up at him with kind eyes. Now Mike’s heart was trying to leap into his throat. He was convinced he would die later, and he had no clue why.
“N- no, I want to stay,” he shook his head quickly, trying to ignore the fact that his body seemed to be failing him. You smiled at his answer, and continued to lead him further into the library.
Mike’s thoughts blurred into one as you introduced him to the group that had gathered. He recognized a few faces from your shared class, but the rest were complete strangers to him. As if sensing his hesitation, you offered Mike a seat at the table you were at, and he gratefully accepted.
For the most part, everything was going great. Mike asked you for help when he needed it, and was able to figure out exactly what he was missing through your counseling. Plus, the people in the group had treated him nicely, and everyone seemed just tolerable enough for him to want to come back later in the week.
Well, not everyone.
Mike had noticed him watching you eagerly from the moment you had approached the group after you arrived, as if he was willing you to go near him. For some strange reason, you obliged the stranger, and it quietly lit a fire in Mike’s chest that wouldn’t go away for the entirety of the session.
Mike seethed each time the guy leaned a little too close to you, completely invading your personal space like it was no big deal. He felt his fist clench his pencil while he held back the anger that built up from watching that total stranger whisper to you like no one was around. He looked at you with the grossest look of desperation that he had ever seen. For god’s sake, the idiot looked like a lost puppy. It was completely and utterly gross.
Mike lingered once the study session was over, waiting for whatever his name was to finish flirting with you so that he could finally speak with you. After nearly waiting an hour (five minutes) for the dude to shut up, he finally left, and Mike was able to return to your side.
“So, how did you–”
“That guy is disgusting,” Mike interrupted you, arms crossed as he watched the boy in question walk down the hallway. Mike looked utterly displeased, something you had never seen from him. Your eyebrow quirked upwards.
“Cody? What makes you think that?” You asked lightly, eyes flicking to the boy Mike was staring daggers at.
Cody. That was the idiot’s name.
“Seriously? He was on top of you the whole time,” Mike scoffed, turning back to you with an unreadable expression on his face. Your head tilted, the subtle anger in his words throwing you off.
“...so? He was just asking me questions?” You responded, eyes not leaving Mike once. You shifted on your heel as he inhaled a deep breath.
“He was openly flirting with you. It was disgusting,” He spoke again, not trying to hide the irritation in his voice. He rolled his eyes, like it was bothering him to just think about the other boy. “I mean, other people are here, dude.”
“Mike.” His stomach did that strange thing again. A small smile appeared on your face, and Mike must have looked confused, because all you did was let out a laugh.
“You don’t need to worry about it. I’m used to guys like that,” you breathed out, your voice reassuring as you crossed your arms over your chest. “Trust me, he’s just one in a long line.”
“Wow, has anyone ever told you how humble you are?” Mike teased, the words leaving him without much thought. You let out a small laugh in response.
“You’re funny. But I’m serious. It’s nothing. He’s douche-y anyway,” you shrugged while you kept your eyes on his.
“Damn right he is,” he muttered under his breath, but his voice was a little too loud. You raised a questioning eyebrow at him, and he let out a deep sigh. “Look, just stay away from him. He reeks of something bad.”
His words were quiet, an undercurrent of something neither of you could figure out lingering on the edges of his tone. Your gaze rested on him for a few silent moments, quietly pondering before you took a breath, breaking the stillness between you and him.
“Okay, Mike. I’ll see you tomorrow,” you smiled softly while adjusting your backpack. Mike was sure he had said something in reply, but he didn’t process it as he watched you gradually disappear down the hallway, leaving his sight within mere seconds.
Mike couldn’t explain why, but your words just then had made that fire in his stomach dissipate. Almost like relief. But Mike didn’t know why he would need to feel relief– there was nothing bugging him enough for him to have a thing to get over. Nothing.
Well, wait. Unless he counted the whole Cody thing. God, even his name sounded douche-y. But why would he feel relief over you dismissing an idiot’s outrageous attempts to woo you?
Mike’s thoughts went quiet. And then it hit him.
“No. No, that’s– no,” he spoke into the deserted hallway, his words echoing across the lockers.
But Mike kept thinking, and the more he thought, he started to think that–
“No. That is not what it is,” he affirmed to himself, his tone serious. Mike clenched his fists together, shoving that thought entirely out of his mind. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.
Mike biked the whole way home in silence, not daring to even give his mind an inch. If he thought about it any more, even just one word, it would all be true.
And Mike wasn’t ready to cope with that. Not yet.
Mike Wheeler did not have a crush on you.
He stored that thought in the back of his mind for the next few days, not willing to let it resurface under any circumstance. He continued to ignore the mysterious little palpitations in his heart and the flips his stomach did whenever you laughed a certain way or when your eyes did that stupid soft thing that he should’ve hated. He persisted, not once yielding to the thoughts that threatened to consume him at just about every moment.
A whole week passed like this, and Mike had no other way to describe it than utter torment. He continued to attend your study group despite the fact that your project was over and had already been turned in. He needed the extra studying. That was all. And he had to make sure that Cody guy wasn’t getting too close.
To Mike’s dismay, he seemed to only get closer, and Mike’s added presence egged him on even more. Each time Mike would look up from his work, he would be an inch closer to your frame, eyes on you as you explained whatever stupid question he had asked you. He smiled at you like he was begging for your attention, trying to get you to give in to his flirtations. It was sad, really, but the fact that he could still have the audacity to try even after experiencing your disinterest made the fire in Mike’s stomach rekindle every single time.
And Mike swore that sometimes, Cody would even look directly at Mike just before he would launch into another round of unnecessary questions with you, and the most evil smile would sit on his face. He knew exactly what he was doing, and it irked Mike to the core.
But, because Mike had vowed to himself not to acknowledge his lingering emotions, he couldn’t let himself dwell on it. He had forced himself to not be bothered, because why should he be anyway, and reminded himself constantly that it was nothing. Because it really was. He didn’t like you like that. He repeated that mantra over and over in his head, despite the fact that its impact lessened each time, and he didn’t let himself believe anything else.
Unfortunately for Mike, it did not take long for all of his hard work to shatter.
𐔌 ﹒ ⋆ ꩜ ⋆ 𓂃 ₊ ⊹
Chemistry was always boring on Thursdays. Not that it was particularly special any other day of the week, but by the fourth day of torture, everyone was usually too tired to want to put effort into the class. Even Mr. Clarke.
He had gracefully given the class a catch-up day, something unheard of for the room of students. Some still needed to work on their projects, but everyone was in need of time to study and finish classwork. Mike had never been more grateful for Mr. Clarke in his life; he had nearly cried tears of joy when he read the lesson outline for the day on the chalkboard. Mike was determined to focus, ready to devote himself to his work for the day when–
“Mike! What’re you working on?” Your voice startled him out of his trance, despite the fact that you were whispering. He hadn’t seen you take the empty desk next to him, and he wondered how long you had been sitting there before you decided to speak up.
“Jesus, you scared me,” he breathed out, slumping back into his desk chair and letting his eyes move down to the paper in front of him.
“Sorry,” you giggled, shaking your head as you leaned back. “Just wanted to check if you’ll be there this afternoon?”
“Ah, shit. I have Hellfire right after school,” Mike sighed, a frown tugging his lips downward. He fiddled with and stared at the pencil in his hand, a wave of disappointment crashing over his body.
“It’s okay, no need to feel bad!” You quickly spoke, leaning closer to Mike as your voice took on a reassuring tone. He ignored the skip of his heartbeat when his gaze moved back to yours.
“No, it’s not that,” Mike sighed again, letting his shoulders slump. He looked away from you, his voice growing quiet while his emotions sank further into his skin. “I really need to study for the midterm next week. I feel like I’m still so behind.”
Mike could feel your gaze on him as the two of you stayed quiet for a moment, and his heart subtly started going faster with each second that passed.
“Hm. Well…” you tilted your head, eyes on the floor as you let your thoughts brew for another moment. When you were ready, you looked back up at Mike, and your voice sounded uncharacteristically shy. “You could come over to my place if you wanted after your meeting. It’s not a whole campaign, right? Surely not on a Thursday night…”
If Mike didn’t blank at your first sentence, it definitely did after your second.
“I– wait, I’m sorry. I’ve never said what we actually do in Hellfire,” he said quietly, his eyebrow raising upwards as he lifted his head to meet your gaze. You froze, smile dropping as if you had said something you shouldn’t have. Silence passed for two beats before Mike’s jaw dropped, the dots clicking in his head.
“Oh my god, you know D&D–”
“Mike. It’s not like that–” Your words fell on deaf ears, Mike already off to the races.
“Holy shit. I would have never expected that from you. What’s your class? Level? Alignment–” His eyes were practically sparkling, and his frame was inching closer to yours with each second that passed. You’d never seen Mike smile as big as he did right then, and something in your chest fluttered at the sight.
“Mike. I don’t actually play regularly. My younger brother is just really into it, that’s all,” you offered a small laugh, shrugging your shoulders. A pit immediately caved in Mike’s stomach, that weird feeling that was a crossover between disappointment and embarrassment reappearing and killing his demeanor.
“Oh,” he backed away, smile faltering and voice getting soft all over again. “That’s okay. Sorry for getting so excited.”
“Please don’t be sorry for that,” you said with urgency, your hand instinctively reaching out in his direction. You stopped before it could touch him, like your brain was preventing your heart from taking too much action. Your eyes didn’t leave Mike’s as you spoke, and the softness of your voice nearly made him rethink the mantra he had been saying to himself for the past week. “It’s endearing when people are invested in their hobbies like that.”
Your words settled over Mike like a warm wave, and he could feel himself reaching the point of no return. Stop it.
He wasn’t sure how long the two of you had sat there staring at each other, but when you finally broke the silence, invisible tension released from his body and he felt relaxed.
“A-anyways, do you want to come over? It’d be just you and me, but it’s not like we aren’t kinda used to that already. You can obviously say no, thou–”
“Yes.” Too fast, you idiot. “I– I’d like to come over. If it’s not too much trouble,” Mike said, clearing his throat and fidgeting with his hands in his lap. You smiled gingerly at him, and he knew you must’ve liked his response.
“It’s not. Here,” you reached forward without warning, grabbing the pencil from off of Mike’s notebook and quickly scribbling down your address on the edge of the paper. When you were done, you carefully ripped it off and handed the small slip of paper to him. “Don’t lose this.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Mike replied, a small smile on his face as he watched you back away. He was ready to keep talking to you, to search his brain for something else to say when, of course, the bell cut through his haze, and reminded him of what he was really supposed to be thinking.
“See you later, Mike,” you said before he knew it, quickly gathering your things together and leaving him deserted with his thoughts.
Mike was slipping, and he knew it. He was willingly giving in to every idea he should’ve been saying hell no to, and he was starting to push it out less and less. He had to keep fighting, no matter how weak his resolve was. He couldn’t admit it. He wouldn’t admit it.
Mike was, sadly, terrible at following his own rules. He was on edge for the rest of the day, his mind teetering back and forth between the different what ifs and definitely nots as he sat in class, completely restless. By the time he showed up for Hellfire, his leg was bouncing up and down so much that Eddie had cut his sentences short multiple times just to ask if Mike was okay. He would say he was, but then immediately return to his zoned-out state. He’d never been so out of focus in his life, and it was throwing him for a loop.
Was he really this nervous to go to your house? He’d been nervous all day; surely it had to be something else. But Mike wouldn’t allow himself to think too hard on it because as soon as he did, those thoughts crept back in, and Mike slipped more and more onto the wrong side even more. He wasn’t sure how much fight he had left in him at this point. Visiting your house would either fix everything and set in stone what he should feel, or, worst case scenario, break him completely and shatter every single expectation he’d had since meeting you.
Mike prayed it would be the former.
Hellfire was over before he knew it, and Eddie had given him one last check-in before letting him actually leave. Upon one last glance at the slip of paper you had given him just hours ago, Mike realized that your house was conveniently close to his, only a few streets down from where he lived. While bike rides normally soothed Mike’s worries from the school day, this one only made everything worse, amplified by the fact that he was really about to be at your house.
It shouldn’t be a big deal, he kept thinking to himself, don’t make it a big deal. It’s just studying. With a once-enemy turned friend. Nothing else. He repeated those words over and over until the moment he reached your driveway, the ball of nerves in his stomach rendering him unable to think much at all. God, why was he so nervous?
Mike hesitated when he reached your door, anxiety coursing through him more than ever. He forced himself to take a deep breath and steady his shaking hands. He reached up to ring your doorbell, and within seconds of the sound chiming on the other side of the wall, the door flung open.
Instead of being met with the sight of you, Mike was faced with a boy who immediately held out a sword in between the frame, glaring up at Mike.
“Halt! I am the brave warrior tasked with defending this land! No trespassers!” The boy who just so happened to look a little like you spoke, waving his sword defensively and dramatically throwing his cape (blanket) over his shoulders.
“Uh–”
“State thy name and case. The great herald will–” He tried again, eyes still scrutinizing Mike.
“NATE!” A voice from inside shouted, and the way Mike’s stomach flipped let him know it was you. Within seconds, you were at the younger boy’s side, looking at him with wide eyes.
“Ah, a fair maiden has appeared. Lass, there appears to be a commoner at the door. How–”
“Nathan.” You called in a quiet voice before ushering the boy forward with your pointer finger. You bent down to his ear level, using your hand to cover your mouth while you whispered something to him. Mike watched with a raised eyebrow as the boy’s eyes flicked back to Mike’s face, a small smile growing as you spoke to him. When you were done, the boy cleared his throat and grinned.
“Greetings, Sir Michael Wheeler! You have been granted entry into the kingdom,” your brother declared, pulling his sword back and allowing Mike to finally step into your house. Mike was grinning from ear to ear, thoroughly amused by your sibling. “But do not falter, for I wield great power and will not hesitate to use my–”
“Nate, Mike’s here to study. There won’t be any need for your sword,” you crossed your arms over your chest, a subtle grin on your face as you looked at your brother.
“You said he’d think it was cool, though,” Nate pouted, eyes dropping to the floor. Mike’s gaze immediately flicked to you in response.
“Did you?” He asked with a knowing tone, a smirk plastered to his lips. You shook your head and rolled your eyes, though the subtle red tint on your cheeks told Mike everything he needed to know.
“Okay, buddy, good talk. We’ll be upstairs if you need anything,” you patted your brother’s shoulder and closed the door before turning away and walking towards the staircase. Mike followed you wordlessly.
“Yeah, yeah, just don’t do anything provocative,” Nate spoke back up, emphasizing his final word before quickly running out of the room and leaving you and Mike alone. Mike flushed at the implications of that word, his mind already starting to fail at upholding the mantra he had laid out for himself.
“Where did you learn–” You started, turning back around before realizing that he had already made his escape. You sighed, shaking your head and letting out a small laugh. “Sorry, I should’ve warned you.”
“No, it’s fine. That was funny. And cool,” Mike smirked again, following you up the stairs. You turned back around and gave him a playful glare, resisting the quick urge you felt to lightly shove his shoulder.
“How was Hellfire, anyway?” You sighed, leading the way as Mike trailed behind you. His eyes moved across the walls, observing everything from family photos to random artworks that your mom must’ve found at the thrift store.
“Boring, I guess. Just went over some campaign stuff. It kinda went over my head, if I’m being honest,” Mike shrugged, a small smile growing on his face the longer he spoke.
“Too worried about chemistry?” You hummed, coming to a stop in front of a door and turning back to Mike with a subtle grin.
“Something like that,” Mike laughed awkwardly, immediately remembering how out of focus he had been all day over thoughts about you. He would never say it out loud, though.
What happened next was a blur for Mike. The door you had stopped at had ended up being what opened up to your room, and Mike was taken aback at the sight. It was so jarringly you that he felt strangely impressed just walking in, every decoration and piece of furniture a direct reflection of you. Mike looked around for a few moments, admiring the various posters hanging on your wall before looking at you expectantly when you sat down on your bed. You raised an eyebrow at him, sitting for a few seconds like you were giving him more time to decide what he wanted to do. When he stayed standing, you sighed, gently smiling up at him.
“You can sit down, y’know,” your voice was quiet, but that didn’t stop Mike from hearing its teasing undercurrent. He felt the tips of his ears grow warm, suddenly unable to handle the weight of your gaze.
“Sorry, I just didn’t wanna overstep or something,” he laughed awkwardly before crouching onto the floor next to your bed. You stared at him for a few more seconds, mouth hanging slightly agape as you took in the scene before you.
“Mike. Oh my god,” you laughed, gesturing to the empty spot next to you. “On the furniture. Please sit.”
Mike’s face was burning now, and he quickly scrambled up and next to you with an awkward smile that only made you laugh more. The bed dipped beneath his weight and it was then when Mike realized he was really in your room with you, and it nearly made him choke. What was going on?
“Okay, so, I was thinking I’d give you a practice problem and we can go from there? Most of the time it’s the small mistakes,” you spoke clearly, eyes never once leaving his. He could do this.
“Yeah, yeah, that works,” he cleared his throat, nodding as he reached for his backpack.
“Good,” you nodded back, still smiling as you quickly rose from your position to step to your desk, taking a few things from the surface before returning back to your place beside Mike. Once you sat, your hand was immediately in touch with a pencil, quickly scribbling a problem down onto a sheet of paper and giving it a brief one-over before carefully handing it to Mike.
Mike stared at the paper for a few seconds before getting to work, his handwriting a bit messy as he configured his thoughts onto the paper. Once done, he handed it back to you, and you were quick to find an error.
“Okay, I see what’s wrong. It’s your math,” you looked up at him, a sort of sympathetic look on your face. Mike sighed, turning away as his hand reached for the back of his neck.
“Figures. I’m terrible at math,” he grumbled, avoiding your gaze and fiddling with his pencil.
“Don’t say that. Math is a mindset thing,” you encouraged, leaning down a bit as you searched for his eyes. He gave in, lifting his head and watching as a smile tugged at your mouth. “Look, this is where you start mixing things up…”
Mike didn’t let his gaze on you waver once as you explained the problem to him, but he wasn’t really listening. He watched your expressions closely, noting the soft glow of lamp light that cascaded onto your face. He had never looked at you this closely before, and now that he was, he couldn’t help but notice how—
“Mike? Are you there?” Your voice cut in front of the thoughts in his head, and Mike suddenly realized he must’ve been staring at you for probably a little too long. Shit.
“Um– yeah, sorry,” he shook his head, forcing a sheepish grin onto his lips in the hopes that it might pull away from what was probably the obvious redness he felt burning into his face.
“What did I just ask you?” You raised a skeptical eyebrow, your lips falling into a straight line. Mike went silent, staring blankly at you for a few seconds before a sheepish grin rolled back onto his face.
“...could you actually repeat it for me?” He smiled, and you rolled your eyebrows in response. Mike could tell you held no real malice though, noticing the way your lips had started to curl upwards again.
Mike really did try to focus this time, really tried, but for some reason, his brain just kept moving his eyes back to your face. Your eyes were particularly soft as you spoke, in a way Mike had never ever seen before. You looked like a normal person, not the most popular girl in his class who he had desperately hated for the longest time. But now that you were close to Mike, with your so you room and your insistence on helping him, it finally hit Mike that he could no longer keep up with his hatred. In reality, it had been slowly dissipating for some time, but only now did he realize it.
And now that Mike couldn’t hate you anymore, he was faced head-on with the one thought he had been trying to push away for the past week. Because there was nothing to counter it with, he was ready to let the thought swallow him, ready for it to grasp onto his brain and not let go.
“Mike! Is something the matter?” You called out again, waving a hand in front of his face. Mike blinked, quickly readjusting his gaze while silently cursing himself for zoning out again. Quick, think of something.
“No, I just– the smell in here, i- it’s distracting,” he shook his head, trying to laugh it off. Albeit, awkwardly.
“Distracting?” You asked, your eyebrow raised again as you shot an offended look in his direction. Mike felt his heart leap to his throat, panic quickly rushing into his bones.
“It’s not bad, trust me! It’s just– overwhelming? I think?” He waved his hands out in front of him quickly, trying to find the most neutral words he could. Was it bad that he thought your room smelled good?
“Do we need to go somewhere else?” You asked quietly, voice laced with genuine concern. If Mike didn’t know better, he’d think that you suddenly looked hurt, and his natural reaction was to comfort. What a mistake that was. Without even thinking, his hand shot out and landed on yours, his eyes firm on yours as he spoke.
“No, no! We can stay! I think I’m getting used to it now,” he reassured quickly while shaking his head once again, still unaware of where his hand had landed. When all he got from you was a slightly open-mouthed stare, he leaned back and caught sight of his hand, and he quickly jerked away. He then trained his eyes to your comforter, doing anything and everything to avoid your gaze and hoping that the burning of his face would end before he had to look up next.
You cleared your throat after a few moments, prompting Mike to look up hesitantly and find the lingering hints of blush that sat on your face. A pit immediately opened in Mike’s gut at the sight, guilty for making you feel uncomfortable so suddenly. At least, he assumed you felt that way.
If you were really bothered, you didn’t show it, as you quickly shifted back into explaining the problems like you had before, and Mike was careful to pay extra close attention whenever you spoke. The two of you were quick to fall into an energized state of work, moving back and forth with the same kind of productivity that you normally had together. Before either of you knew, the sun had set, and the scent of whatever was being cooked in your kitchen for dinner was beginning to seep in your room. Mike took those factors as his sign to leave, alongside the fact that you were starting to run out of problems for him to figure out.
So, you let him gather his things before walking back downstairs, right back where you had started just a few hours ago.
“Are you sure you don’t wanna stay for dinner? I’m sure my mom cooked enough for one extra person,” you asked Mike with a soft smile on your face, and he would’ve said yes if it weren’t for the fact that he was currently having an early-life crisis over his thoughts about you.
“I would, but my mom might be a little stressed out right now,” Mike sighed, mirroring your expression as he mentally high-fived himself for his excuse. “I kinda didn’t tell her I was gonna be out this late.” You grinned at his words, crossing your arms over your chest.
“In fairness, it was kind of last minute. Maybe I could make it up to her? Cookies are my specialty,” you hummed, tilting your head playfully, and raising your eyebrows.
“Really? That does sound enticing, but how do I know you aren’t lacing them or something?” Mike hummed back, shifting on his heel and letting his smile lift up into a smirk. You rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face told Mike that you weren’t truly offended.
“You really think I’d lace your family?” You gasped playfully, putting a hand over your chest and tilting your head once again. “And here I was thinking you were starting to fall for my charms.”
Mike felt his breath nearly leave him completely at that, suddenly feeling like he had been caught in some act. He had no time to respond, however, because within milliseconds, your brother reappeared at your side.
“Mike– I mean, Sir Michael, leaving so soon?” Nate looked up at Mike with big eyes, a curious look on his face.
“Yeah, bud, I’m sorry,” Mike replied, letting out a sigh as he smiled sympathetically at your brother. Nate frowned, but continued to listen regardless of his disappointment. “I have to get home. My mom doesn’t know that I’m here.”
“Ooh, scandalous, Sir Michael,” the younger boy shooting a smirk in Mike’s direction.
“Nate, where are you learning these words?” You laughed, gazing down at your brother with a raised eyebrow.
“The Wesbert book that mom keeps on the table,” Nate said, and neither of you had the heart to tell him what the dictionary was actually called, so he continued: “It has lots of words. You should read it sometime. Your vocabulary is quite monotonous.”
“Oh really? Why don’t we put it to the test at dinner?” You suggested to him, your smirk now etched into your face as you looked at your brother. Mike observed silently, something in his chest panging at the sight of you interacting with your sibling so effortlessly.
“You have a deal,” Nate grinned back at you right before he turned back to Mike, stepping on his tippy toes as he whispered to the older boy: “I’m gonna beat her.”
“I’m sure you are,” Mike laughed lightly, his eyes moving back to you with ease. He cleared his throat, moving back upright as he shrugged his shoulders back to a relaxed posture. “Well, I really should get going. Thanks for helping, it means a lot.”
“Any time. And I’m serious about the cookies, Mike. Just say the word,” you smiled up at him, the look on your face so soft that Mike’s heart skipped at the sight of you. He forced himself to take a deep breath.
“I’ll let you know. Bye, guys,” he waved, quickly opening the door before he could say anything he definitely shouldn’t.
“Bye, Mike!” You and your brother called out in unison, watching as Mike walked back to his bike. Eventually, you shut the door, and Mike let out the deepest sigh of his life.
The ride home wasn’t long, but with the thoughts swirling around in his head, Mike felt like he had been on his bike for ten hours. His mind replayed his moments alone with you, where he had been so focused on you that he hadn’t heard a word you’d said. The more he thought about it, the more he realized he had been admiring you, and the idea of that wasn’t scary to Mike anymore. He welcomed it with open arms, accepting that his resistance had failed him.
He could no longer hide from the way his heart just happened to go faster when he was around you, or the way that he would blush every time you did something as simple as smile at him. You were pretty, so pretty, as much as he had tried to resist thinking of you in that way. And you were so, so sweet, too sweet to him. He had been an asshole to you, and yet, you kept trying with him, pushing him to be a better person in the process. No one had ever, ever done that for Mike before. It all washed over him the whole way home, each thought building upon the last as the walls Mike had intricately put into place shattered completely.
It was when Mike turned onto Maple Street, his house in view when he finally let it settle over him: He definitely had a crush on you.
Since he had finally let himself admit it, an intense relief filled in Mike’s body, and he slept the best he had in weeks. He woke up the next morning filled with a sense of exhilaration for the day ahead of him, and he found that he was extremely eager to see you at school. Yes, he’d probably be even more of a nervous wreck around you now, but at least he’d get to be around you.
The first thing he did upon seeing you at school was politely remind you about the cookies you’d said you make upon his request. You had questioned his sudden excitement about the idea, considering that it was only second period, and he had played it off successfully by saying he had a cup of coffee for breakfast. You had laughed and his stomach flipped like normal, and you promised you’d show up to his house at some point that night with a fresh batch of ‘completely normal and not laced’ cookies.
Excitement bubbled in his gut for the entirety of the day, and when the last bell finally rang, he shot out of the school doors and booked it home on his bike, anxious to get home and start preparing for whenever you might arrive. He’d paced around his room for nearly an hour, imagining the moment when you would knock on his door. He went back and forth between rehearsing what he should say or just winging it entirely. He settled for a happy medium, but there was no telling what might happen to his brain whenever you finally showed up.
Mike waited at home for nearly three hours until he finally, finally heard his doorbell ring. He practically levitated off of his couch, scrambling as fast as he could to the door, but, of course, Holly had to beat him to it.
“Are you that girl my brother keeps talking about? Wow, you’re like, really pretty–”
“Holly!” Mike cut his sister off, standing at her side before his eyes snapped to you. His heart leapt into his throat, all of the practice he had done in his room leaving him in an instant. “Uh– hi. Sorry, I was gonna get it until someone had to beat me to it. Aren’t you too young to answer the door anyways?”
“Nu-uh, Mike. Besides, you wouldn’t wanna keep your friend waiting, right?” Holly grinned widely, and Mike prayed you wouldn’t notice the blush that had crept on his face at his sister’s teasing.
“Go away,” he groaned, lightly shoving Holly’s shoulder and turning back to you.
“Where? I live here–”
“O-kay, so, one order of cookies, right?” You cut off their bickering, feeling a little out of place as you stood in the doorway. Mike flushed even more.
“Yeah, r-right,” he cleared his throat, and in an instant, Holly was walking away, disappearing to who knows where. “Sorry, she can be a little annoying sometimes.”
“Younger siblings,” you rolled your eyes playfully, shaking your head with a small laugh. “what would we do without them?” Mike laughed along with you, trying to ignore the way his stomach filled with butterflies at the sound of your laugh. Hiding this was going to be hell.
“Okay, well, if that’s all, I should probably–” You started, your arms reaching out as you attempted to hand out the container of cookies to Mike, but a sound from within the house stopped both of you in your tracks.
“Mike? Is someone at the door?” Mike heard his mom from behind him, and the muscles in his body went stiff at the sound.
“Not now, Mom!” He quickly turned around, but it was no use. His mom had been closer than he’d thought, and she was already nearly next to him, and had clearly spotted you.
“Oh, hello! I didn’t realize we were having any visitors,” She spoke lightly, her eyes moving between you and Mike with a hint of curiosity.
“Just stopping by with a treat, Mrs. Wheeler,” you smiled, holding out what you had brought to Mike’s mom, and a wide smile spread across the woman’s face in the process. Mike let out a breath of relief, thankful that you had saved the situation.
“How sweet of you!” His mom exclaimed, taking the container from your hands before nudging Mike lightly with her shoulder. “Mike, where did you meet a girl so nice?”
“School. We had a chemistry project together,” Mike shrugged lightly, his eyes darting nervously between you and his mom. She paused for a beat, seeming to process Mike’s words before her entire face lit up, as if something in her mind had clicked for her.
“Wait, you’re the cheerleader?” Her eyes widened in your direction, and you smiled shyly. Mike wanted to crawl into a ball on the ground. “Oh my goodness, do you want to stay for dinner? You’ve been too good to Mike; it’s only right that we pay you back.”
“It’s really not that big of a deal, Mrs. Wheeler–” You tried to stop her, but it was no use.
“No, I insist! Mike, go set a place at the table for her,” She placed a warm hand on her son’s shoulder, and Mike was helpless to resist. He took one last look at you before disappearing back into the house, leaving you at the doorway with his mom. He didn’t think that could’ve gone further south than it did.
Mike’s mind fogged over as he floated into the kitchen, absentminded as he gathered up what he needed to prepare your spot at the table. His table. With his family. Mike thought he was going to throw up.
You and his mom eventually worked your way into the kitchen, where you properly got the chance to introduce yourself to his family. Mike was a shell as you sat next to him, barely even able to touch his food throughout the course of the meal. He kept quiet, listening to the conversation as it bounced from you to one of his family members and then eventually back to you. If Mike hadn’t been impressed by you before, he definitely would have now; your ability to keep up with so many questions was incredible.
He could tell his dad was silently impressed by the fact that you seemed to get along well with Mike, considering the fact that Mike wasn’t exactly one to just hang with the popular crowd at school. Holly absolutely loved you and took the time to detail her entire day to you, and you listened with extreme intensity. His mom was instantly charmed by your politeness, and begged you to take leftovers home for yourself once dinner was eventually over. Mike figured Nancy would probably like you too, considering how smart you were and how easily you got along with literally everyone.
Before Mike knew it, dinner was over, and you were helping him wash the dishes at the sink. Mike hadn’t realized how close the two of you were at first, but when he finally did, his mind nearly flew away from him again. He could barely even tune it out, your warmth seeping into his side as a constant reminder of your presence.
“Is your dad normally that quiet? He barely said a single word,” you laughed, your words quiet as you leaned slightly closer to Mike. He was going to die.
“You don’t know the half of it,” Mike rolled his eyes, his soft tone a mirror to yours as he laughed along with you. “He just, like, sits there. Unless it’s to get onto us about ‘language’ or whatever.” You laughed again at that, and Mike could feel your eyes on him as he set aside a plate.
“He sounds like the life of the party. Holly, on the other hand, is remarkably sweet,” you grinned, eyes shifting down for a moment before immediately returning to Mike’s form. Your grin then turned into a smirk, and Mike’s eyebrow quirked up in response. “You guys are actually really similar.”
“What? We are?” Mike scoffed, tilting his head and forcing the corners of his lips to remain downturned as he looked at you.
“Yes, Mike. Why else would she be so stubborn?” You tilted your head, mirroring his mannerisms as you shifted onto your hip playfully. You let out a laugh as Mike did, and the butterflies that were sitting in his heart started raging once again.
You two continued to go back and forth, passing the time together with just the company of each other. Eventually, you had to leave, and once you were gone, Mike realized just how much he had enjoyed having you over. Sure, he had been a complete nervous wreck just hours ago, but it had all been worth it to see you hit it off so well with his family. It made Mike able to actually see something with you, something tangible in the distance that he might soon be able to grab onto. All he had to do was get around to you.
Unbeknownst to Mike, he already had gotten around to you. Despite your initial efforts to keep your thoughts about him neutral, your heart had eventually broken through the barrier of your mind, and it now rendered you a nervous wreck every time Mike was around. You were a little surprised that he hadn’t noticed your slight change in behavior, considering how you had taken such a long time to notice it yourself.
You forced yourself to believe neither of you could be everything, too different to ever work. At least, at first. The more time you and Mike had spent together, the closer you had become, and each little interaction you had started to change your beliefs more and more. You felt pulled to him, like the two of you had somehow been tethered together by an invisible string. It was tugging you closer and closer to each other, and you were starting to think that the two of you might collide soon.
You could only hope that Mike felt it too, because the amount of days you had together was slowly running out, and you knew that deep down the two of you would likely pull away the moment the semester ended.
So, you and Mike persisted in your own separate ways. Spring Break started at the end of the week, and Mike wanted to capitalize on the opportunity as much as he could. He decided to make it his mission to ask you if you wanted to go on a date before the week ended, more determined than he had ever been in his life. He had made this plan on his own terms, not seeking the consultation of any of his friends or family. It had to come from him, or it wouldn’t be right.
You were focused on doing anything and everything you could with Mike, trying to get as close as you could before the string holding you together snapped, whether it be because you finally reached each other, or because you broke apart. You sought to make it the former, and spent the week trying to find little ways to incorporate Mike into your day. Fortunately for both of you, Mike’s midterm at the end of the week was the perfect excuse for you to see one another more. You had taken the liberty of inviting Mike back to your house, offering just a little more studying in between the days you were supposed to meet at the library anyways. Mike gingerly accepted, all too eager to just be with you.
Both of you had meant to be productive that afternoon, but with Nate so adamant that Mike actually got to see all of the cool things he wanted to show the older boy, barely anything was accomplished. And even when you did make it back to your room, the two of you spent most of the time telling each other stories about your high school experiences, bonding over how different it had been for each of you. Mike learned how much you sought escape from the so-called popularity you held, and he, in turn, finally told you that he had really only hated you since you were better at chemistry than he was.
You laughed at him so hard that Mike felt like walking out of your room and leaving out of embarrassment. But the smile on your face and sound of your pure, unfiltered laughter had him absolutely smitten, and he knew he’d be a fool to leave simply because of you poking fun at him.
That had been just yesterday, and the entire afternoon had filled both of you with more hope than you’d ever had before. Mike was convinced that nothing could stand in his way now, and was finally, finally ready to make a move on you.
Of course, he was a nervous wreck most of the day, mentally preparing for the moment when he was going to approach you. He planned on asking you after your study group, when it was just the two of you, completely free of distractions. He went in and out of focus throughout all of his classes, and denied that anything was wrong when his friends took notice of his anxious state. Nothing could get in the way of his plan, Mike kept telling himself minute after minute, rehearsing his words in his head while his brain came up with a thousand different responses that you might come up with.
When the time study group finally arrived, Mike busied himself with studying, forcing himself to focus as much as he could on his impending midterm and not you. This task, of course, was nearly impossible, with you sitting directly across from him and occasionally checking up on him and offering him extra help without him even asking. God, you were too good for him.
Thankfully, Cody had decided to be extra quiet today, sticking to observing you and Mike interact with what Mike assumed was a look of self-pity. Mike didn’t really care though, knowing that whatever you and himself had going on was definitely leagues better than how you and the other boy interacted. Plus, Mike knew for a fact that you absolutely had no interest in Cody, so that ruled out every possibility of you rejecting him for that idiot.
The end of the group’s time together had come to an end sooner than Mike had hoped for it to, and he could feel his hands buzz with anticipation as he gathered his things together. He waited for you to say goodbye to everyone and wish them luck before immediately meeting you at your side, a soft smile on his lips while he tried to ignore the thrumming of his chest. The two of you walked out of the library together, side by side as you moved through the hallway. Mike kept his pace slow, wanting to stay with you for as long as possible.
“That was really great today, Mike. I’m serious,” you grinned up at him, your voice calming while exciting the nerves in his body. “You’re gonna ace your midterm. Trust me.”
“Well, I did have a pretty great tutor,” Mike hummed, grinning back at you before he sheepishly shrugged his shoulders. “Not that I really needed her, though.”
“I’m sure you didn’t,” you laughed lightly, the sound like music to Mike’s ears. “You’re smart, you just need to get out of your head sometimes.”
Mike paused at that. Your words hit him like a truck, being the exact thing he had needed to hear at that moment. The fact that it came from you made it even better.
“Yeah. I do,” Mike took a deep breath, turning to face you fully as a soft smile grew on his face. Time slowed as the two of you sat in silence for a moment, both simply looking at one another as a strange air passed over you. Not awkward, not odd, but heavy with the weight of what went unspoken. You cleared your throat, knowing that you might do something regrettable if given any more time in the quiet.
“Any spring break plans?” You asked Mike, your voice a degree softer than before. Mike didn’t notice it, too consumed by whatever had just happened to the space in between the two of you.
“U- uh, not really,” he stuttered out, his hand reaching for the back of his neck instinctively as if it would soothe the anxiety away. “I’m sure you’ve got something, though.”
“If you mean babysitting the entire week, then sure,” you scoffed, shaking your head lightly as a small grin grew back on your face.
“Nate? Surely he’s not that much trouble,” Mike laughed a little, raising an eyebrow as his head tilted to the side.
“He’s not, I just really don’t have the capacity to go over his games for hours on end,” you sighed, something similar to regret sitting on the edge of your tone. Mike thought for a moment, and as your words from before passed in his mind, a sudden idea appeared to him.
“Really? Well, I mean, if you need help…” he trailed, the subtle intensity within your gaze causing him to falter for a moment. He inhaled deeply before continuing again: “With Nate, obviously. I’d uh– hang out with him, or whatever.”
“Are you indirectly asking to come over next week?” You raised a suspicious eyebrow, and Mike felt the tips of his ears grow red.
“Well– only if it’s not a big deal, I don’t wanna–”
“Hey, relax, I’m teasing. You’d actually, um, probably be a really big help,” you spoke, your voice getting more quiet with each word that left your lips. You cleared your throat, praying that Mike didn’t notice the redness that had started to bloom on your face. “Besides, Nate would probably want to see you anyways.”
“Well, it’s settled. Just let me know when I’m needed,” Mike smiled gingerly, forcing himself to hide how excited he really was about you agreeing with him. He was closer than ever, and his confidence was starting to shoot through the roof.
“Of course,” you nodded, smiling back at Mike so sweetly that he wanted to melt. You let out a deep breath, and Mike felt a sharp twist of panic coil in his chest. “Well, we should probably get going. You need to sleep well, remember?”
No. Not yet.
“Yeah, yeah, um, could you wait here? I need to, uh, run to the bathroom really quick,” Mike didn’t give you time to respond to him, immediately darting in the direction of the bathroom and finding the nearest mirror.
This was it. Mike had convinced himself that his plan had a better chance of going right than wrong, especially after the interaction the two of you had just shared moments ago. He stared at himself in the mirror, re-rehearsing everything he wanted to say to you in his head while his hands shakily gripped the edges of the old porcelain. He let himself take three deep breaths for safe measure, telling himself that it would be fine and that the worse you could say was no before he pulled away, taking one last glimpse at himself.
He quickly ran his hands through his hair and straightened his shirt, wanting to look the best he could with what he had. Anxiety still pooled in his stomach, and he knew it wouldn’t be eased until he finally spoke the words he wanted to say to you. So, Mike forced his feet out of the bathroom and back into the hallway. He could hear faint voices as he walked down the hall, anticipation building in his gut as he rounded the corner and saw–
Oh. Oh.
Mike registered you first. And then the person pressed against you, lips on yours. Cody. Mike felt like throwing up.
Not much processed in Mike’s head as the two of you separated, your hands coming up to the other boy’s shoulders to push him away. The boy wore a look of shock–though it couldn’t have been anything like MIke’s–and you turned around to face him.
Mike watched the color drain out of your face as you realized he had seen. But it was over. The anxiousness in Mike’s stomach had been replaced by a gaping pit of a mix of so many things that Mike didn’t have time to count right then.
“Mike. Fuck,” your voice was weak as you stepped away from Cody, your arm reaching out in Mike’s direction. But Mike was already moving, his feet carrying him away mindlessly. With each footstep he grew faster, and his eyes began to lose focus as tears pooled at their edge.
“Mike, stop, please stop–” You were following him now, persistent as ever, and it only made Mike want to get away more. Of course. Of course you had lied. You were what he always thought you were, just some good for nothing but evil cheerleader whose mission it was to wreck havoc on the lives of everyone but yourself. A liar, a backstabber, and someone that would never, ever like Mike, no matter how much you faked it.
“Mike!” He was too far gone to hear the desperation of your voice, to hear the way it cracked with the weight of emotions that had just hit you. Before you knew it, he was out the door, too ahead for you to keep up. You knew he wouldn’t listen even if you did. You were left stranded, a flurry of various emotions running all through your body as you tried to point out where everything had gone wrong.
The moment Mike had left, Cody had appeared out of absolutely nowhere. It made you think that he hadn’t been far away at all the entire time you were talking to Mike, listening and waiting for a spot to finally open. The moment it did, he jumped in, immediately rambling about how he couldn’t keep his emotions away from him anymore. He needed you to know that he wanted you, and at some point in time, he had become convinced that you wanted him too, and was ready to risk it all for you.
You rejected him firmly, but he wouldn’t listen, and, of course, as if the universe were working against you, he pulled you in just as Mike returned.
You could hardly believe that it happened at all. But it did, and you had no clue what to do. Mike was upset, so upset, and rightfully so. Your heart sank for him, and you knew that you had to fix it. Mike had to know the truth, not just about that situation, but about your feelings and the emotions you had been reeling in for weeks. He had to know it all.
Without any more hesitation, you booked it to your car and then back to your house, flying up the stairs and into your room. If you were going to speak to him, you needed to let yourself breathe, to let yourself find the right words to say.
You sank onto your bed at first, letting out a deep breath that was followed with a groan as your body slowly receded into the sheets beneath you. Your mind allowed you one minute of solace before immediately pushing forward a thousand thoughts to the front of your head, overloading you with countless words and emotions that you could barely even grasp onto. Your fingers dug into your blankets, desperate for any sense of solace from the ceaselessness of your mind.
After a few moments of doing your best to block out the noise, a knock at the door broke your thoughts. You lifted your head and muttered a small ‘come in,’ prepared to act like everything was completely normal. The sight of your brother brought a smile to your face, and you rose up to a sitting position.
“Hey, Nate, how was–”
“Is something wrong? You didn’t say hi when you got home,” he asked you, his voice clearly upset as a frown tugged the corners of his mouth downward. Yours immediately did the same, your heart sinking in your chest as he came to sit next to you.
“Oh, Nate, I–” you started, eyes on him as you debated on telling him the truth or not. “No. Nothing’s wrong. Well, something kind of is, but–”
“What is it?” He cut you off quickly, his head perking up as he eagerly awaited your answer. You let out a breath through your nose, your gaze drifting down onto the floor while your fingers squeezed the sheets for support.
“Okay, look. Mike is just a little upset at me right now. It’s nothing,” you reassured, shaking your head and forcing a smile on your face while you did your best to not remember the way Mike had fled from the school. Your tone, however, let on more than your words had said, and your sibling picked up on it instantly.
“It doesn’t seem like nothing,” Nate said, raising a suspicious eyebrow and leaning closer to you with a curious glint in his eyes. “Why is he upset?”
“He thinks I lied to him,” you sighed again, turning away as your gaze fell back to the floor. You fidgeted with your hands in your lap, a beat of silence passing before Nate responded with a hum.
“So tell him the truth,” he said simply, observing you closely. Your frame stiffened just slightly before you let out another sigh, a deep wave of mixed emotions washing over you.
“It’s not that simple. He’s really, really angry at me, Nate. I don’t know if he’ll listen,” you bit the inside of your cheek, wishing that it didn’t bother you as much as it did. You liked him so much, more than you had ever liked anyone, and this little rift in your day had left your entire being shaken. You kept going back to how it had all played out, how none of this would have happened if Mike had just returned a few seconds before, if you had been able to get yourself away from Cody–
“If he really likes you, then he will.” Your brother’s words broke your train of thought.
“What?” You asked, your voice breathless as your head turned back up to look at your brother.
“Mike likes you, right? Then he’ll listen to you,” Nate shrugged, a gentle smile on his face as his head tilted to the side. “It’s called respect.”
“I–” you tried to search for something to rebuttal his words with, but you couldn’t. He was completely right; no matter how much Mike might hate you now, he’d probably still have the decency to listen to you. It was exactly what you needed to hear. “You’re really smart, Nate. Thank you.”
“Oh, I’m just doing my duty. Plus, I want ice cream later…” Your brother looked proud of himself as a smirk grew on his lips, and you let out a breathy laugh as you nudged him lightly.
“It’ll have to be tomorrow, bud. I have to go talk to Mike,” you spoke, already standing up to leave your room.
“Oh, right, do that,” Nate grinned, moving to follow you. “And can he come over soon? You said he would.” His words brought your mind back to the conversation you and Mike had not that long ago, immediately bringing back a fluttery feeling to your chest at the idea of Mike back on your bed again, staring at you with the most intense gaze you’ve ever seen. Now is not the time for that, you told yourself.
“W- we’ll see,” you cleared your throat while you stepped out of your room, Nate trailing behind you as you made your way downstairs. You wanted to leave, but you were still anxious, mind whirling with the words you wanted to speak. To give yourself more time to think–really, to stall–you ate dinner with your family, trying to ignore the growing wad of nerves that had decided to form at the center of your chest while you ate.
You used the guise of needing to run something over to Mike’s house to escape your parents’ suspicion, even grabbing your backpack to make it seem more believable. They let you leave without any questions, and you wasted no time getting in your car and driving to the Wheeler residence. You parked on the road outside the front lawn, deeply inhaling the soft chill of the night air while you walked up Mike’s driveway and to his front door. You tapped your foot restlessly after you knocked on the door, hoping and praying that you wouldn’t have to face Mike already. To your relief, his mom opened the door.
“Hi, Mrs. Wheeler,” you greeted immediately, your anxiety making you speed through your actions. “Is Mike here? I have something I need to bring to him.”
“Uh– yes, come in,” she blinked, clearly a little shocked by the subtle urgency in your words. She didn’t question you, stepping aside and letting you into the house. She closed the door before turning back to you, a concerned look on her face.
“Before you go up, could you please do something for me?” She asked you quietly, stepping closer to you. You nodded wordlessly and she let out what sounded like a relieved sigh.
“Could you take Mike’s plate up to him? He got home and hasn’t come out of his room since,” she whispered, clear concern within her tone as she looked at you with pleading eyes. “Sorry, I’m just worried, is all.”
“Don’t be sorry,” you swallowed, thankful she at least didn’t know the reason for Mike’s avoidance. Your heart sank at the thought of Mike in his room all alone, refusing to talk to anyone and letting his emotions stir in silence. “I can take it to him, it’s no problem.”
She nodded and quickly disappeared to the kitchen, returning with a plate of food that was still semi-warm. A sympathetic smile was plastered to her face as she handed the plate over to you, and you felt a sense of guilt crash onto you at how worried she was for her son.
“Thank you so much, sweetie,” she hummed, clasping her hands together in front of her chest. “I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you; he seems to like you a lot.” God, why does that sting so bad?
“I’m glad he does. He’s a really nice guy, Mrs. Wheeler,” you said, praying she didn’t notice the slight waver in your voice as you spoke. You smiled at her one last time for making your way up the stairs, anticipation humming in your gut. Your feet felt light on the carpet as you walked to Mike’s closed door, and you bit your lip at the absolute silence from the other side. You felt absolutely awful, but the only way to fix it was to try and get through to him. You let out a soundless sigh as you raised your hand, knocking on his door.
“I’m not hungry right now, Mom,” you heard him speak from the other side, and the hoarseness of his voice nearly killed you right there. You took another breath, clinging onto the plate in your hands for life support.
“It’s not your Mom,” you breathed out, voice already starting to shake. You heard faint rustling from the other side of the door before the handle slowly turned, and the door opened just enough for you to meet Mike’s gaze.
You felt your breath catch at the sight of him. His eyes were puffy and his cheeks were stained by evidence of tears. That alone made you want to start crying. His hair was messy and his clothes were wrinkled. It was clear the effect that the incident had on him, and guilt mixed with sadness flooded your entire body at the thought of Mike lying in his bed and crying. All because of you.
“Why are you here?” He asked harshly, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked down at you.
“Your mom wanted me to bring this to you,” your words were careful as you held out the plate, which he quickly ripped from your hands.
“Cool. Bye,” he spoke, not trying to hide his anger before he quickly moved to close the door. You were quicker, lodging your foot in the frame before the door could click closed. Mike looked absolutely pissed at that.
“I– Look, I need to talk to you, Mike,” you spoke firmly, not letting his clear agitation get to you.
“What is there to talk about? That kiss told me everything I need to know,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes at you before pushing the door further. “Now, could you please move–”
“No. Mike, I need you to listen to me,” you spoke again, now moving forward to push the door back with your own hands. Mike stumbled back, giving you the space to step into his room as you quickly started to let your pent-up words out.
“What you saw, it wasn’t what you thought it was,” you breathed, closing the door behind you. Mike scoffed while he set the plate down on his bedside table.
“Really? It looked like what I thought it was,” he quickly snapped at you, facing you head on as his brows furrowed even further. You nearly groaned, but forced yourself to remain calm no matter how heated he got.
“Would you let me explain? I can promise you now that–”
“Let me stop you right there,” Mike interrupted, leaning forward and throwing his hand out. “You can’t promise shit. Remember what you said? About how it was nothing, about how Cody was douche-y anyway?”
“Mike–” you tried, but he wouldn’t give you an inch, his emotions quick to take over all of his rationality.
“You said that. You promised it. You lied to me, and I trusted you. Fuck, I trusted you with so much, Y/n,” his voice was starting to wobble, and you could feel every ounce of fight leave your body the more he spoke.
“I hate you. I really, really hate you. You're exactly who I thought you were, just some snobby two-faced asshole who likes to play with people’s emotions,” he pointed an accusing finger at you, and you could feel your heart sinking lower and lower at his words. You could feel your lips quivering as you held back your tears.
“Is that really what you think of me?” Your voice was devastatingly soft, so much so that it nearly broke Mike from the state of anger that he seemed to be locked in. He didn’t let it get to him though, continuing in his beration of you.
“Yes. It is. I hate you. I hate how smart you are, because you shouldn’t be at all. I hate that people actually like you, that you can barely do anything and people will praise you like you’re the best thing this town has ever fucking seen.” You stayed silent as his words hit you, holding back tears as the frown on your face got lower and lower.
“I hate how nice you are, how you gave me a chance even after I told you to your face that I didn’t like you. I hate how you let me try over and over again until I get it instead of leaving because you shouldn’t like me at all. And you know what, I hate how pretty you are. You’re stupid pretty, and it makes me so mad that you could be doing anything and still look amazing–”
You could hardly believe what you were hearing. The more he went on, the more his words started to sound less like an angry rant, and more of a pent up confession that had been brewing for weeks. Your lips fell agape at his honesty, and your heart skipped a beat as he called you pretty.
“Mike, slow down–” You stepped forward hesitantly, trying to get him to circle back and explain further. He just kept going, talking over you as the tension in the air grew overwhelming.
“You know what I hate the most? I hate how no matter what, no matter how hard I fucking tried not to, I actually like you. Too much. You’re all I’ve been thinking about, and I can’t stand it. And I hate that you want to settle for that fucking loser, because you’re so much better than that and you deserve someone better–” His voice wavered as tears began to roll down his face, and you could feel your heart beating out of your chest.
“Mike, please–” You took another step closer, but he cut you off again.
“I hate you because I can’t hate you. I tried to, but it didn’t stay, and now I’m stuck on you. I’ll hate you forever if it keeps me from the fact that I–”
“MIKE!” You shouted this time, cutting him off completely. You stared at each other breathlessly, and it was then when you realized how close the two of you were. Oh my god, it was happening. Your eyes darted dangerously to his lips, and in a split second, all of your fears left you.
“Shut up,” you breathed out, shaking your head as you took one last step closer. Your hand moved on its own, reaching up to gently take hold of his tear-soaked cheek. His breath hitched at the warmth of your touch. “Please, just shut up.”
You pulled him in, your mind and heart moving at a thousand miles a minute as Mike’s lips met yours. Mike blanked against you, hesitating before he tilted his head, his lips desperate atop yours. The two of you stayed in that position for a few moments before Mike jerked away, a realization coming to his head.
“W- wait,” he breathed out, eyes lidded as he looked down at you. “You like Cody. You kissed him earlier. What are you–”
“Oh my god, you idiot,” you laughed breathlessly, your thumb moving up and down his cheek as you gazed up at him with soft eyes. “I don’t like him. I like you. You wouldn’t let me talk.”
Mike blanked again, and he wasn’t sure if it was from the gentleness of your eyes, the softness of your touch, or the sudden shock of your words. Probably all three.
“I– then why–”
“He kissed me. I didn’t want that,” you shook your head, answering his question before he could get it out. You took a deep breath, your voice nearly reverent as you spoke your next words. “I want you, Mike. Just you.”
And with that, Mike was sold. He surged forward, his lips crashing against yours in a haze of eagerness and joy and admiration.
“I’m so sorry,” he murmured against your lips, his hand reaching for your face as he held you impossibly close. He kissed you fervently, taken over by his feelings for you and the emotions that had been sitting with him for weeks. “You’re not snobby. You’re perfect.”
“‘M not perfect,” you responded breathlessly, kissing him back with just as much passion. You were certain that a few tears had escaped your eyes, overwhelmed by the intensity of the emotions that coursed through you. Your knees nearly caved beneath you as you felt his thumb wipe away a stray tear.
“Perfection is subjective,” he grinned before leaning back in, letting out a small hum as your hand shifted to the back of his neck, your fingers teasing with the curls that rested behind his head.
“God, you’re such a nerd,” you let out a laugh as you broke the kiss, shaking your head as you gazed up at him through lidded eyes.
“And you like me,” Mike grinned widely, cheeks flushed and eyes practically shining as he looked at you.
“I really do,” you sighed, your voice quiet as your lips curved up into a gentle smile. You stayed still for a few seconds, relishing in the warmth of your shared contact and the comfortable silence of the moment before Mike giggled, letting his hand slip into yours. He tugged you to his bed and pulled you down next to him, his lips quickly finding yours once again as you settled next to him.
Mike’s midterm was long forgotten, but he couldn’t have been happier. You were with him, and that was all that mattered now. You, you, you. For the first time in weeks, he was truly at ease, letting the warmth of your embrace envelop him completely as he got lost in each and every thing about you. Even as his mind started to go blank the longer the two of you kissed, one thought remained at the forefront of his head, a quiet reassurance that settled his feelings more than even he knew.
Mike could never, ever hate you.
author's note: ten things i hate about you anyone 👀 hiii i hope you enjoyed reading!! i know that was a long one but i really didn’t want to break it into two parts 😭😭 #sorry also yay i am back!! school is keeping me decently busy so i will update the best i can, i have some requests i’m planning on working on soon!! feel free to send anything to my ask box if you have ideas or just want to talk!! i love you all!!!!
just a reminder that this blog is run by someone who:
— is anti ICE & fascism
— is pro-choice & feminist
— supports trans & queer people
— hates generative AI & capitalism
— supports immigrants & people of color
— is pro-environmentalism & social justice
— supports palestine & all other territories unjustly suffering
As if El didn't spend the entire run of the show wearing outfits that shows she's taking on the styles of whomever she's living with. She literally wore a shirt that was meant to look like one of Will's in season 4.
Max was the only one to ever encourage her to find her own identity and path in life.
i think its mostly bc reader herself is sure shes over it, so her brothers think so too, since shes actually really open towards them and always tells them everything, in the past she would always talk about him to her brothers, and she stopped bc since shes happy again, and since she hasn’t had any type of contact with him, she doesn’t have him in her mind often
hello im sorry u haven’t uploaded, i just started senior year and i have to keep my average to be able to achieve a scholarship
i made an edit bc for some reason the first two ss didn’t appear, idk if i didn’t upload them bc i was falling asleep??
suna hasn’t slept with anyone since his last time with y/n which was a year and months ago, but he felt that if he did it he would betray her
he also genuinely cannot bring himself to find any other girl attractive, he hasn’t tried but even if he did, he will fail
i read a fanfic abt tsukishima once where he could only get it up (if ykwim) with the reader, when he tried to sleep w a girl it wouldn’t get up, and i love that idea so it will probably be the same for suna(that fanfic is also the reason why i love exes to lovers)
suna also never tried to get laid bc in his mind hes still y/n’s, and he always had his hopes of getting back tg, he had never thought about the fact that she probably would get over him
thats bc suna knows he will never get over her, so he didn’t think she would
guess who suna wants to get laid by
atsumu and osamu are not being rude, they genuinely think y/n got over suna already (even though thats not the case)
osamu used to really hate the idea of his best friend dating his sister and they both forgetting abt him, but after seeing how in love they were, he became their biggest supporter
the count of days is how many days have passed since their breakup
please ignore that i didnt crop the photos so u can see the actual time in whoch they were taken
theyre both accepting their feelings but it wont be that easy, i want this to be looooong
idk what to say for this chapter
the song that y/n “wrote” is i know you by faye webster
i started journaling and i use my pink pen to write stuff lmao
so i wrote the lyrics w my pink pen
only suna, tsukishima and her brothers know abt y/n only using her pink pen for songs or her diary, oikawa only assumed she was writing bc well she posts abt writing and then a cryptic message?
i added the little detail of y/n doing her a’s like the font instead of “𝙖” bc thats how i write my a’s LMAO
please ignore that i didnt crop the photos so u can see the actual time in whoch they were taken
theyre both accepting their feelings but it wont be that easy, i want this to be looooong
idk what to say for this chapter
the song that y/n “wrote” is i know you by faye webster
i started journaling and i use my pink pen to write stuff lmao
so i wrote the lyrics w my pink pen
only suna, tsukishima and her brothers know abt y/n only using her pink pen for songs or her diary, oikawa only assumed she was writing bc well she posts abt writing and then a cryptic message?
i added the little detail of y/n doing her a’s like the font instead of “𝙖” bc thats how i write my a’s LMAO
HELLO NEW UPDATE, so i kinda forgot reader was a famous singer but i promise she will live the famous lifee
so, since atsumu is rlly famous he has found a lot of insane girls who would do anything for his money
y/n is in denial because she uses the hatred as a mechanism to cover the hurt
or well in more detail if she hates him then she doesnt feel sad or thats what she thinks
honestly i havent planned what their break up was but i have an idea and just telling yall everything could have been saved if they both knew how to communicate
tsumu and samu are really nice and lovely brothers to y/n
kei called bc y/n said she wanted to talk about suna and honestly he still roots for them
but y/n ended up mentioning him once and talking about a lot other stuff for three hours straight
ofc kei listened to everything hes a good listener but he wont admit that he doesn’t mind that shes yapping his ear off
as yall have noticed in most chapters just one important thing happens and the next is humor, i want it to feel natural and not too rushed and i also love crack smaus so yes
they call y/n kid and kiddo even though shes 8 minutes older than atsumu and 13 minutes older than osamu
im not sure i like this chapter, also this is probs the only time theyll see each other for a while cause i love slow burns and i just dont want it to go too fast
so, kenma and kei def could go they just wanted y/n to go
suna isnt in denial anymore like y/n is, he knows shes the love of his life
i couldn’t not talk about matthew im so normal about him🩷
y/n used to get food for tooru or the whole team but she didn’t want to after suna joined the team
i love me a good slow burn enemies or exes to lovers with a lot of angst and then fluff at the end so get ready and i also love miscommunication LMAO
but also expect a lot of humor filler chapters bc i love crack smaus and bc i started this story impulsively and do not have it planned yet LMAO
im so normal about suna
also i got the idea of akaashi getting discounts from another au i just cant remember which one
also i didn’t say this before but y/n has suna blocked everywhere, including roblox and spotify and GMAIL LMAOO
sakusa, suna, atsumu and osamu are roomates
suna used to hate tsukishima because of how close he was to yn
like he would get really jealous and insecure
like suna was sure tsukishima and yn were in love with each other and it was only a matter of time for them to realize it and for yn to leave him
i do not blame him, remember they even call each other platonic soulmates? well he thought the platonic part was temporary
suna and tsukishima are chill now, hes even yns only friend to follow suna on his priv
this is because ever since the break up tsukishima was the only one willing to hear suna out and turns out hes not as bad when youre not competing against him
but that doesn’t mean suna’s heart doesn’t sting a bit every time he hears the names y/n and tsukishima together
yn hates suna and suna hates yn but she was the love of his life
suna follows y/ns main acc in his priv (secretly y/n follows rins main acc on her priv as well)
if yall didnt notice suna has yns merch site on his priv:(
tsukishima not so secretly secretly loves y/n a lot, there was even a time where they romantically liked each other, but they just felt like they were more friends than anything else so they decided to just keep being friends, they love each other and believe they are platonic soulmates
they all are roomates even if none of them really needs one bc theyre all rich
im sorry that this is so cringe, im doing this for fun
Oikawa is part of the MYSB here bc i say so LMAO
HAPPY BDAY OIKAWA!!!!
yes the song is happier than ever by billie eilish and yes it is about suna looool
also if no one noticed, everyone except for kenma who has his youtube link, have y/n’s merch website on their bio to support her and kenma would put her link if he could put more than one too <3
i put 5 followers on her priv acc forgetting abt atsumu and osamu omg im so sorry, ill change it
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