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tfboyzblog · 8 months ago

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Mikey couldn’t believe it was working. That old spell book in his grandfather’s chest was for real. Holding Saul’s hand, he could feel a strange energy fill his body.

“Holy shit lil’ dude” the older boy exclaimed. “Look at you!”

Mike glanced to the side where he had his mirror and look at his reflection in shock. He was rapidly growing, almost reaching Saul’s height as a senior. His shirt felt increasingly constrictive as his arms bulged, chest muscles began to push the fabric, back widened. Take off the glasses and ditch the button-up and he could pass as part of the swimming team, or maybe the soccer team...

“Wow...” was all he could muster in his new, slightly huskier voice.

“Bro...” Saul nudged him, but the boy was too enraptured in his marvelous growth to notice the older boy begin to dwindle in height and lose much of his size.

“Bro! I think you’re good for now! Let go!” Saul called louder this time, using his free arm to pull off Mikey’s hand from his own.

“Oh!” Mikey exclaimed as he came to himself. “I’m sorry! I was so...” he began to mutter as his eyes went back to the mirror and his improved form “-amazed...” he concluded as he tried to move around in his too-small clothes.

“Yeah... I noticed...” Saul commented in an annoyed tone as he lifted his arms to see how baggy his shirt was now. He silently appreciated the belt holding up his shorts. “Anymore and I’d come out of this looking like a middle schooler... “

Mikey looked at his friend, noticing how they practically saw eye to eye now, but the bulk and size the eighteen-year-old had before were gone. He’d still pass for a senior, maybe a junior, but a more average looking one now.

He smirked. “Nah! You’re still a big boy.” He playfully patted him on the shoulder. “Besides, you’d probably be a cute middle schooler anyway.” He commented.

“Don’t get any ideas, Mikey!” He pointed at Mike. “Don’t make me regret this!”

Mikey nodded. “Don’t worry! I promise I won’t.” He hugged his friend, feeling the new power in his arms. If he wanted, he thought, he could hold Saul like that with minimal effort. It felt good. During his strong hug he could swear he felt a poke against his leg, but as he let go, he could see nothing out of the ordinary, aside from what could be a slight blush on Saul’s heavy tanned skin.

“Thank you! I mean it!” Mikey said. “I just need to stop being kicked around by Hank and his imbecile posse. And now,” he attempted to flex a bicep, but stopping as soon as he started hearing a tear in the fabric “I can! And all thanks to you.”

“Yeah yeah! I know I’m awesome!” Saul waved. “Just give me back my...” he looked up and down to the burgeoning athlete in dork clothes “you know, everything, next week. That should be enough...”

“Don’t worry.” Mike said with a wink. “I’ll put your... everything to good use!”

Saul left soon after and Mikey thanked the heavens. He couldn’t stand in these terribly tight clothes anymore! His shirt, his socks, but more urgent yet, his underwear.

Taking off his button shirt with effort, Mikey was in awe of his new sculpted pecs protruding from his chest, he caressed them and followed down to an immaculate row of abs connecting to his waist. He pulled off the trousers, that now looked like they were close to tearing at the seams. His legs were wide and powerful. His feet looked bigger, even. And gazing up he stopped at his poor white briefs, pushing and compressing an impressive bulge.

“Wow...” He moaned. “I guess I got some of Saul’s ‘other’ size too...” He thought as he pulled down the last piece of constrictive clothes. A long, girthy semi erect dick whipped out of the small nerdy briefs. “I must be, like... 7 inches now!” Mikey said, grabbing his newly improved fuckstick. It felt heavy in his hand, being accustomed to his 4 incher. “Poor Saul.” He thought, making a note to return him his size as soon as he could.

“But for now...” He smirked and flexed his huge biceps. His dick twitched at the sight. “I want to enjoy the ride.”

Saul was getting restless. The week was almost over and not a word for his neighbor. Mikey was always a good kid, and he was tired of hearing how he was constantly getting bullied by some idiot jocks...

He looked at his mirror. He missed his muscles and the size he used to carry, but he couldn’t help thinking how he kinda looked cuter with a bit less meat in his bones, more of an average but still charming high school boy. He felt a tingle in his lower area, making him rethink all of that. If he knew Mikey’s weird spell would also drain away his size down there, he’d probably reconsider being a donor. Even in his boxers, there was hardly any bump in the front. His healthy looking 6 incher, now closer to 4, at most...

Suddenly there was a strong knock at the door.

Mikey! It had to be him!

Saul flew down the stairs, only in a baggy t-shirt and boxers. He wasn’t prepared for who was waiting on the other side of the door.

A hulking muscular beast walked in. “Hey there little dude.” He said in a deep voice as he looked down at Saul. “Did you get smaller since I last see you?”

“Mikey?” Saul asked incredulous. This muscle god was at least 7 feet tall by now, his massive chest barely covered by a tank top, strong thick arms stretched behind his head exposing a pair of sweaty and moderately hairy pits. The monster smirked at Saul, and it was clear it was his friend’s face. More masculine, more defined, perfect skin instead of the normal zits, a killer smile...

“I go by Mike now. Mikey was giving people the impression I was some tiny nerd or something.” He brings one of his arms down and casually adjusts his crotch. “And there’s nothing tiny here, right?” He laughs.

Saul could see the outline of the massive snake in his underwear, easily spotted in all its thick glory even through the sweatpants Mike was wearing.

“What...what happened? You were like...not half as big last week.” Saul asked the giant teen boy.

“Well, it was all thanks to you, buddy!” He said as he walked towards Saul and grabbed him in a strong hug. Saul’s head resting against the boy’s giant pec. He suddenly felt inundated by the smell coming from his arms. Saul’s head started swimming and a tingle made his dick twitch.

“You should’ve seen Hank’s face!” Mike laughed and let go of Saul, walking towards the living room and sitting in the sofa, legs wide apart. “When he saw I was as tall as him and was like, as jacked as him, I think he shat his pants. For the first day in my high school life, they left me alone. I couldn’t believe it was that easy!”

“That’s great! But then-” Saul tried to speak.

“I wasn’t done speaking, bro.” Mike interrupted, in a calm, but authoritative way. His voice caused a tingle to spread down Saul’s spine and into his lower area.

“Well, you won’t believe what those pussies tried next!” He continued, now in a friendlier tone. Saul, however, couldn’t shake off the force the boy exuded and the respect he commanded with a simple sentence. He stood in front of the huge teen as he stretched on the couch.

“They waited for me outside the school the next day. Waited for me to be alone and then Hank grabbed me and dragged me to old warehouse. I guess he thought he couldn’t put me in my place alone now, so he wanted to gang up on me where no one could see. Can you imagine though? How could those losers ever think my place was beneath them?” He laughed at the notion.

“And wasn’t he surprised when he noticed my shoulders were too wide for him to grab me like that. And weren’t his friends shocked when he let go of me and was just a skinny brat. You should’ve seen his face. Wait. You can actually see it. I took pictures.” Mike said, picking his phone from his pocket. Turning the screen to Saul, the awe-struck boy could see a kid looking no older than 12, swimming in his oversized clothes, looking up in shock.

“Glad I remembered grandad’s spell, eh?” He winked at Saul, who nodded, not wanting to interrupt his friend again.

“Well, after the brat was taken care of, his friends were easy pickings, to be honest. With every bit of muscle I took, I took ability, masculinity, everything that made them jocks. They had nowhere to run, and I took it all.” He laughed.

“So, what do you think lil’ bro?” Mike smirked at Saul as he flexed his gigantic biceps.

Saul dry swallowed. What did he think. Right in front of him was the biggest 15-year-old in the world, most likely. He exuded power and masculinity. He fumbled for words. He felt butterflies in his stomach and the tingling in his dick was stronger than ever. Not just his dick, either. He felt a yearning, inside...

“Mike-” he almost used his old nickname. “That’s insane. You’re like, bodybuilder huge!”

“I know, right? Pretty sick!” He guffawed. “Didn’t feel the need to drain them as much as Hanky boy, but they’re pretty much nobodies now. Horny submissive nobodies, actually.” Saul was shook. “They can’t seem to quit my dick, now.”

“But then again.” Mike grabbed a handful of cock “I got about four jocks worth of testosterone and musk so...” He looked suggestively at Saul “who would be able to...”

Saul tried to repress the growing feeling inside him. “But your folks? I live right next door and saw nothing different. No one was surprised about this much growth?” He tried to change the subject.

“Oh that!” Mike waved. “Another one of grandad’s spells. Basically, it normalized things. If you’re outside the spell, that’s how things always were. Kids at school all think that this is how I always looked. Well except for Hanky boy and the bottom bunch. Even if they wanted to tell someone what happened no one would believe them. I think they like knowing their muscles made me this huge, and if they don’t, they should. But yeah, since you were outside that spell it probably, sorta normalized things for you too...”

Saul just nodded. It made sense. Even though his head was spinning from all this information and the increasing muskiness in the room.

“So yeah. It’s all thanks to you, lil’ buddy!” Mike reached in front and grabbed Saul until the smaller 18-year-old was straddling his huge quad. Mike’s strong arms surrounded the boy and hugged him tightly. Saul couldn’t help himself but sitting on his friend's leg and putting his hands on his muscular body.

“I came over to honor my end of the deal. Give you back your muscle. Your height. A few inches down there...” he chuckled. “Unless you don’t want me to.”

Saul looked shockingly into his friend’s eyes, still holding to his pecs and shoulders. How could he think that was the case. For an entire week he’s been forced to live without his hard-earned physique. It’s not like it’s that bad, and he had to admit he fit real comfortably on Mike’s lap like that, but still...

“Unless you want me to keep them. Keep looking like this.” He spoke softly, in a voice that twisted his thoughts.

“I think that’s what you want.” He chuckled softly; poking Saul’s modest but raging boner. A large wet spot already had formed on the front of his boxers. “And if that’s the case, I’m sure I can pay you back some other way.” Mike’s big meaty hand slid down Saul’s slender back until it found his supple ass. Saul yelped as the hand caressed his backside. “I’ll make sure to give it all to you. Again, and again...” He whispered at his ear.

“But you have to be the one to say so.” He continued. “So, what will it be?”

Saul still looked at his friend’s eyes, his hands wandered freely on Mike’s massive chest. He couldn’t think straight, and the yearning inside grew and grew until he finally admitted to himself what it really was.

He wanted this muscle god inside him. He knew he’d gladly give all his muscle, all his masculinity, just to be owned by this perfect specimen. No matter how many others there were; to know he was Mike’s. To be used as he saw fit. Saul could only hope he was able to give more to this example of athletic perfection. More of his height, so he’d be smaller, and Mike could manhandle him with even more ease, more of his dick and balls, now useless for Mike’s intended purpose, so he could add more to the python and orange sized balls his former nerd friend now had.

And as he imagined that and he became even more hungry for cock, Saul felt himself sink deeper, fit even more snugly in Mike’s embrace. He could feel the teenage titan stretch a bit more; his spine extend a couple more inches; his frame swell with some more pounds of muscle...

Saul looked up at Mike and approached his mouth to his, still afraid to make any noise, and meekly nodded. After all, the choice was obvious.

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Well this has been my first "longer" story and the first experiment in making stories without a picture for inspiration and instead drawing random themes from a choice wheel. This time the themes were Muscle Theft and Corruption ;)

The AI picture is just meant as a placeholder for now, as I haven't found a appropriate picture for it ( and I know you pervs prefer TF stories with pictures). I invite people to submit pictures to accompany this story. And finally, if you have suggestions of other places I could post my longer stories from now on, please let me know!!

#muscle growth tf #male tf #muscle growth story #tf story #nerdtojock #nerd to hunk #jock transformation #reality change #male transformation #male tf story #muscle theft #teen muscle #teen bodybuilder #corruption #personality change #jock to nerd

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hippielittlemetalhead · 1 year ago

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Part 3 (One of Us) of 'Never Took The Time (To Forget)' previously known as 'Hopper Adopts Steve But Make It Sad'

Part 1 (Hop fucks up), Part 2 (Pride and Prejudices: Joyce Edition), part 3, Part 4.1 (With a Capital 'P'), Part 4.2 (Robin's Boy), Part 5 (Man Of The Hour)

Here's a bit more for you filthy animals 😘

Much like he's come to expect from the small soldiers these children have fashioned themselves into he's not surprised when they come pouring out of whichever of the twins' rooms they shoved themselves in like codependent sardines. He's not surprised by the looks of anger and disappointment and confusion. Claudia Henderson's kid -Dustin- looks on the edge of tears with a grim set to his mouth that reminds him of when the kid's mom is beyond words in her slow-burning fury. El and Will have matching looks of disappointed confusion.

What he's not expecting is the way Mike and the younger (usually more volatile) Sinclair are holding onto an incensed looking Lucas. Lucas who has always been the polite one when it came to addressing adults and the one to preach caution and thinking plans through. Lucas who has been quiet and withdrawn since Hop came back, spending his days at the edge of Party affairs when not helping in the rebuilding efforts around town or sitting at Max's bedside.

"What the fuck, Hopper?" The kid spits out and that seems to snap the rest of The Party into action. Will goes to join the two holding Sinclair back but Dustin starts near incoherently yelling in that screechy pitch only that kid seemed to be able to hit about bullshit cops and useless adults and to let Lucas go. "He idolized you, man! Would tell us all the time that you were 'one of the good ones' that if we ever needed anyone and he wasn't there, to find you. That you would take care of us because that's just what you did for people. Because you were good!"

"Lucas, chill out man." Mike pants though he's also glaring daggers at Hop.

This is where Joyce (god bless her) decides to step in. "Lucas, honey-" She says with her soft voice and big wet eyes and that warmth she seems to infuse into everything she touched. "It's complicated. There's some things you just don't understand and-"

"No! You two don't understand! Steve is GOOD. He's good and he cares and he takes care of everyone else and he always kept us safe." The kid seems to be losing some of his steam, pulling at his friends less and resigned to shaking in barely contained fury. "He gets hurt and he gets back up and he apologizes for taking a fall in the first place! He's just Good."

"I know he's been good to you kids and I appreciate that, I really do Lucas." Joyce says, her voice a little stronger, that steadiness returning. "Sometimes people in our lives can do bad things to others and we don't see it because we care about them and that's not always a bad thing. But we have to remember that the people who were wronged are allowed to be upset and that's normal to feel and-"

"You mean like Jonathan?" The room goes quiet. Will looks resigned but not surprised by Lucas' question but the rest of the kids look just as confused as him and Joyce. "Did you really think Steve broke his camera -in the school parking lot of all places- for the hell of it? Did you seriously never question it?"

Hop feels something twist in his gut. He had been so caught up in the search for Will and wrangling a frantic Joyce that he hadn't paid any attention to small-town squabbles like two teenagers having it out in the school parking lot, the destruction of personal property or what might have triggered it. He looks over the kids' heads to see Jonathan and his stoner buddy standing just outside his door. The friend looks confused but Jon is looking at his mom who hasn't noticed him yet like a man preparing himself for the gallows.

"Mom." Joyce's eyes snap from where they were locked on Lucas up to her oldest son. "Mom, I-"

"What are they talking about Jon?" It's quiet. Quiet and scared because everyone in the room knows that whatever secret reason Lucas (and maybe Will?) seems to be the only one to know Steve had for picking a fight isn't going to be good. Jonathan's mouth opens like he's going to say something but no words come out. "Honey, what did you do?"

"He took pictures of Steve and his friends the night Barbara Holland disappeared."

"Will?" all eyes except Lucas' (who is still glaring daggers at Hop) are on the two brothers. One scared and almost pleading the other disappointed and resolved.

"He hid in the bushes and took pictures of Steve and his friends with Nancy and Barbara. There were pictures of Barbara at the Harrington place before she died and he never told anyone. But there were also-" He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes like he can't look at his older brother who has hung his shaggy head under everyone's heavy gaze. "There were pictures of just Steve and Nancy. Alone together. In Steve's room."

There's a sharp gasp that he thinks came from Joyce but he's too busy watching the young man he's come to consider a son. His head is still lowered and his shoulders are curving in on themselves as he shakes off the hand his long-haired friend tries to place on his shoulder.

"Oh baby," Joyce's voice is wet again. A tone of horrified disappointment to it that Hop has only heard her use when talking to or about one other person. "Tell me you didn't."

"Then he-" Will clears his throat like this one is what gives him pause. "He was caught developing the pictures in the school's darkroom. All of the pictures. And he had zoomed in on Steve's window. Nancy was the center of the shot." The kid's eyes flit over to Mike (who is now turning an interesting shade of red as he glares at Jonathan) before he blushes and looks at the ground, "She uh-"

Lucas does not seem to share Will's newfound hesitance in the face of an enraged Mike Wheeler. "Most of the upperclassmen argue if she had a bra or not but they all seem to agree she didn't have a top."

"Oh my god." Everyone was frozen as Joyce began to crumble. "Oh my god." He reached out to catch her, her nails digging into his arm through his shirt sleeve as she stared unseeing at her oldest son.

Jonathan started forward. "Mom, I-" a hand in the middle of his chest stopped him. "Will, please, I need to-"

"Just stop, man." Lucas sighs. "You started this shit, you gotta deal with it before you hurt someone else besides Steve."

"I didn't mean to hurt Steve."

Hops feels himself frozen to the spot in a way he's not used to anymore these days. His mind is working overtime picking out all of the charges that could have been pressed even against a boy of 15/16 if any of the kids in Harrington's inner circle had told an actual adult about the situation. The veritable legal hell that would have been brought down on Joyce while searching for a son legally assumed dead.

"Is that what you told yourself when you helped Nancy cheat?" And it just kept getting worse.

Joyce gives off a whimper and the kids gathered make varied sounds of shock and disgust.

"They were broken up."

"Were they? Cause everybody at school and half the town seems to all know about you and Nancy disappearing together when Steve was still calling her his girlfriend and then you all showed back up to school, Steve beat to hell again and Nancy hanging all over you. The basketball team STILL talk about it."

He's heard enough. "Alright, that's it!" He yells out over the children yelling and Joyce demanding answers and Jonathan's friend trying to say something about there being some sort of explanation. "This doesn't help us help Steve."

Lucas shakes off the loose hold Erica and Mike still had on him and crosses his arms as he rolls back his shoulders and tilts his jaw up to fix him with a glare. The kid's stance is almost arrogant but Hop can't help but notice the way he rests his weight on his off side, his shoulders back and his posture straight without his chest puffing out ridiculously like Hop is used to from teenage boys gearing for a fight.

"I think you've helped enough, Hopper." It's quiet and biting and he lets himself have a moment of grief for the childhood these kids lost, and the fact that he's almost positive Lucas didn't pick up this easy confidence from anyone else in their monster fighting club but Steve. "You and Mrs. Byers want to play nice now cause you feel guilty and that's all well and good but what happens when Steve does something else you don't agree with without explanation? Or he and Jonathan or Nancy get in another fight? When we finally get rid of Vecna and the Upside Down for good? What happens when you don't feel guilty anymore?"

"I can't make any sort of promise you lot will believe. And lord knows I'm pretty shit at keeping them anyways. I just want to be able to try."

"He mourned you, you know. When we were told you didn't make it." That weight is back in his chest. "He held himself together around us but there were- there were moments we could tell. He and El really bonded over that. Over you. Over losing you."

"I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't. You didn't want to know."

"There's no way I can make you believe me. That I want to fix this."

"We want to, Hopper." Dustin butts in, placing a hand on Lucas' shoulder and limping up next to the other boy. "But from what you and Mrs. Byers were talking about... There's just a lot that makes a lot more sense and it doesn't inspire a lot of faith in either of you."

"We need to discuss this as a Party."

"Okay."

"That means letting us take care of it. Steve's one of us and you hurt him."

"I understand."

"So you and Mrs. Byers have got to wait till we say you can talk to Steve. That he's ready for it."

"Now, kids-"

"No they're right, Joyce. We fucked it up on our own and- and he trusts these little shits more than he trusts us right now. We've gotta do the same."

Joyce sighs, "Fine."

She's not happy about it and honestly neither is he. But if the last few years and his stint in a Russian gulag and the subsequent escape taught him anything it's maybe he needs to trust his people to do what they need to do.

The kids scurry back to whichever of the Twins' room they came from, led by a newly determined and involved Lucas and a furiously muttering Dustin. Jonathan and Joyce make their way to the kitchen and Hopper decides he's going to let them have that conversation in as much privacy as they can with a house as full as theirs.

Hopper sits in the living room, runs his hands through his hair that's finally growing out and pulls them down his face before resting his chin on steepled fingers. He hates sitting and waiting and relying on someone else for the next steps. But all he can think about is the sound Steve made. The look in his eyes. The pride in his voice the last time he heard him say, "My Hop."

That's it!

He stands up so fast his bad ankle protests and his knees pop. He limps to the front door, yelling out to the house that he has to go, has something to do. Calls out he has his walkie and that El needs to be ready on time. Then he's out the door.

Part 4.1

More coming soon! Hopefully! Work went from an active team of about 12 to 5, not including the managers we lost ssssooo... Yeah fun times. 🙃

So here's a tag-list, hope I didn't miss anyone. Feel free to yell at/with me in the comments or ask box. If you see your old tag in my list tell me your new one so I can fix it.

@thelittleclare @jackiemonroe5512 @0body0disphoria0 @strangersteddierthings @lingeringmirth @dead-cherry-bitch @irethsune @ink777 @the-daydreamer-in-the-corner @ledleaf @pansexuality-activated @paintsplatteredandimperfect @kinryuuki @katdeerly @yikes-a-bee @altocumulustranslucidus @ohimamarigold @child-of-cthulhu @samsoble @sensationalsunburst @xxbottlecapx @y4r3luv @rocochen20 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @flustratedcas @rootbeerandmusic @vinteraltus

#Never Took The Time (To Forget)#nttttf verse #hopper adopts steve #but make it sad #rambler writes #stranger things fic #hopper pov #lucas sinclair #The Party loves Steve

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miwiheroes · 14 days ago

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going insane at midnight because

mike loves will so much oh my god he loves him so much he:

chooses him and only him to confide in when he's feeling insecure because will always makes him feel better

speaks in the softest voice and even when he yells it's still gentler than with other people

smiles in his photos

lets him film him without arguing

hunches down to make up for will being a little bit shorter

doesn't hesitate to jump into action for him at the slightest of suggestions

meets will's eyes

puts his arm around him when he might be scared

holds his hand when he's shaking

appreciates his art

is attentive to his mood shifts, noting when he's quieter than usual

knows not to treat will like he's going to break

always makes it clear how much he means to him

always apologises when he screws up

always talks in we and us and together

tells will he can't leave, it's raining even when they're having an argument

But he's too scared to give himself what he wants in favour of being the hero he thinks Will asked him to be.

And jesus christ will, will loves mike so much he literally

always lets mike talk to him even if it's a subject matter that's painful for him

always puts mike's happiness first over anything

knows that mike understands and always understands

trusts him to protect him more than anyone else

comes back to consciousness when he hears his scared voice

knows that he'll never make him feel like a freak even when his own family does

imagines spending the rest of his life with mike doing what they've always wanted and expresses this to him multiple times

has always been loyal to him

paints for him and gives away his prized possessions to him, making more effort than he makes with anyone else

tells him anything related to the UD first

feels safe because of him

But he believes through and through that he'll never get what he wants because that's just not in the cards for people like him.

Fuck

#gonna go die now #byler #byler endgame #byler nation #mike wheeler #will byers #stranger things #if they arent endgame i quite literally will never be happy again

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rylem33 · 2 months ago

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51UT Wine

Lauren adjusted the hem of her beige blouse for the fifth time in as many minutes, glancing nervously at the clock. The table was set with her best dishes, candles flickering softly, casting a warm glow over the small dining room. She smoothed the creases on the tablecloth, ensuring that everything looked perfect.

Her reflection in the kitchen window caught her attention. She’d gone with a light touch of makeup, just enough to bring color to her cheeks and highlight her lips. She ran her fingers through her blonde hair, trying to fluff it up a bit. “He’s going to notice this time,” she whispered to herself.

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway sent her heart racing. She quickly straightened the forks, adjusted the napkins, and forced herself to breathe.

The door opened, and Mike stepped in, his tie loosened, shoulders slumped. He paused when he noticed the table. “Wow,” he said, setting down his briefcase. “This is…nice.”

Lauren stepped out of the kitchen, her hands clasped in front of her. “Hi, honey! I thought…well, you’ve been working so hard, and I just wanted to do something special for you.” Her words came out rushed, nervous.

Mike smiled faintly, his exhaustion evident. “It looks great, Lauren. You didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble!” she said quickly, her voice pitched slightly higher than usual. “I thought it’d be nice for us to, you know, sit down together. Relax. Talk.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and gestured to the table. “Come on, sit down. I’ll grab the appetizer!”

Mike nodded, sliding into his chair and glancing around the table. “This is really thoughtful,” he said as she disappeared into the kitchen.

Lauren hurried back with a plate of bruschetta, her hands trembling slightly as she placed it in the center of the table. “I know it’s simple, but it’s your favorite, right? I mean, you used to love it at that little Italian place we went to, remember? On our anniversary a few years ago?”

“Yeah,” Mike said with a small smile, picking up a piece. “I remember. That was a good night.”

Lauren beamed, perching on the edge of her chair. “I thought we could recreate some of that tonight. Just…you and me.”

Mike hesitated, setting down the bruschetta. “This is really nice, Lauren. But…” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

The words sent a jolt of panic through her, but she forced herself to keep smiling. “Oh! Wait. Hold that thought!” she interrupted, standing abruptly. “I forgot the wine! What’s a fancy dinner without a bottle of wine, right?”

Mike blinked, surprised. “Uh, sure.”

Lauren rushed back into the kitchen, grabbing the bottle of 51 UT Wine. She’d picked it up after reading rave reviews, though she hadn’t tried it herself. The sleek, minimal label promised sophistication, and she hoped it would be enough to distract Mike from whatever serious topic was weighing on him.

She returned to the table, holding the bottle aloft like a prize. “Ta-da! It’s supposed to be amazing. I thought it’d be perfect for tonight.”

Mike nodded appreciatively as she poured them each a glass. “You really went all out, huh?”

“Well,” she said, setting the bottle down and reclaiming her seat, “you’re worth it.” She tried to steady her breathing as she watched him lift the glass to his lips. Whatever he wanted to say could wait until after they’d had a drink.

Mike cleared his throat. “Lauren, about what I was saying earlier…”

Lauren’s chest tightened. She reached for her glass, gripping the stem tightly. “Oh! Wait,” she blurted, her voice too chipper, “before we dive in, let’s toast!”

Mike blinked at her, but after a moment, he lifted his glass halfway. “Sure. A toast.”

“To us,” she said, forcing a smile, her glass meeting his with a soft clink.

Mike didn’t drink, though. Instead, he set his glass back down and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Lauren, I appreciate all this effort. I do. But we need to talk.”

Lauren froze, her smile faltering. “What is it?”

He sighed, his shoulders slumping as he searched for the right words. “Things haven’t been great between us for a while now. You know that.”

Her stomach churned, but she nodded quickly, trying to get ahead of him. “Of course, I know! That’s why I’m doing all of this tonight. I thought maybe we could, you know, reset or…fix things.” She gave a nervous laugh, her words spilling out faster than she could think them. “I mean, it’s not like I haven’t noticed. I’ve definitely noticed, Mike. That’s why I’ve been trying to—”

He held up a hand, cutting her off gently but firmly. “Lauren. Please. Let me finish.”

“Oh, right. Sorry,” she said, shrinking back into her seat. To distract herself, she took a large sip of the wine. The taste surprised her, sweet and smooth, with just the faintest hint of spice. It lingered pleasantly on her tongue, and for a moment, she forgot her nerves.

Mike didn’t touch his glass. He pressed on. “I’ve been thinking a lot about…us. Our relationship. And I keep coming back to the same thing: we’re not close anymore. Not like we used to be.” He hesitated, his gaze darting to hers before quickly dropping to the table. “We barely talk. We don’t…connect. And our sex life…it’s nonexistent.”

Lauren’s face burned, and she looked down at her lap. “I know,” she whispered. “I know it’s been…”

“I’m not done,” Mike interrupted, his tone soft but insistent. “This distance between us—it’s been weighing on me, Lauren. And lately…” He trailed off, swallowing hard. “Lately, I’ve started noticing other women.”

Her head snapped up, her eyes widening in shock.

“I haven’t cheated,” he said quickly, holding up his hands. “I wouldn’t do that. But the fact that I’m even…noticing them, that I’m thinking about what it would be like…that’s not a good sign.”

Her heart sank, even as her hands tightened around the wine glass. She forced herself to take another sip, letting the warm liquid soothe her frayed nerves. “Noticing other women,” she repeated faintly, her mind reeling.

Mike leaned back in his chair, his expression pained. “I’m not saying this to hurt you. I just…I think we’re at a crossroads. I’ve been wondering if we’re better off going our separate ways.”

The word hung in the air like a storm cloud: divorce.

Lauren set her empty glass down and immediately reached for the bottle, refilling it with shaky hands. “I mean…wow. Okay. That’s…a lot.” She let out a nervous laugh, her words tumbling out faster than ever. “I mean, I knew things were bad, obviously. I’m not blind. But divorce? That’s—wow. That’s big. Really big. Not that I’m saying you’re wrong to feel that way, because obviously, you have a right to your feelings, and I totally get it. I do.” She took a deep breath and forced a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

Mike opened his mouth to respond, but she was already talking again.

“But, you know, that’s why I did this tonight! I mean, look at this table! Look at this food! I wanted to show you that I care, that I’m trying.” She paused only to take another gulp of wine, barely noticing the beads of sweat forming at the nape of her neck. “I thought maybe if we just spent some time together, we could, I don’t know, reconnect or something. Because I don’t want to give up on us, Mike. I really don’t.”

Mike exhaled, looking down at his hands, which were clasped together on the table. His brow was furrowed as if the words were physically hard to pull out. “I’ve been carrying this around for a while, Lauren. I didn’t want to bring it up like this, but… I’ve been feeling lost. Like we’re just… going through the motions. It’s like we’re roommates, not a married couple. And that’s been killing me. I don’t know how to fix it.”

Lauren’s lips parted to respond, but she couldn’t form the words. Her mind was a jumbled, overheated mess. The warmth that had started in her belly had spread through her entire body now, making her feel flushed, shaky, hot.

She shifted in her seat, crossing and uncrossing her legs, trying to ease the strange ache growing between her thighs. Her nipples had hardened into stiff peaks, pressing insistently against the thin fabric of her blouse. God, why does this feel so good?

Mike looked up at her, his expression pained. “I’m not saying this is all your fault, Lauren. I know I haven’t been perfect. I’ve been distracted with work, but…”

Lauren’s heart sank at the words, but not for the reasons she expected. He’s right. I have been distant.

She leaned forward slightly, the movement making her all too aware of the slick heat between her legs. She took a shaky breath, her voice barely above a whisper. “I know I’ve been distant, Mike. I know.”

“I’ve been so stuck in my own head. Stuck in this rut. I didn’t mean to push you away, but I did. And you’re right, we’ve been so far apart. But I don’t want to be.”

Mike blinked, surprised by the sudden vulnerability in her voice.

“I don’t want us to fall apart,” she said, her voice rising slightly, as if she were pleading with him to believe her. “I don’t want to lose you. And I know I’ve made it hard, but, Mike…”

Lauren’s words poured out in a rush, the desperation in her voice growing thicker. “I don’t want to waste another second, Mike. I can’t…”

She stopped mid-sentence, her breath hitching. A soft, involuntary moan escaped her lips, catching them both by surprise. Her knees buckled slightly under the table, her thighs clamping together as a jolt of pleasure coursed through her body. “Oh…oh my god…”

Mike froze, his concern deepening. “Lauren? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Lauren opened her mouth to answer, but the words didn’t come out right. Instead, her voice wavered, raw and sultry. “I-I feel…so—” Her hands gripped the edge of the table, her body trembling. A louder moan tore through her, startling even herself. “Ohhh…oh, Mike…something’s happening!”

Her chest heaved as wave after wave of sensation rolled through her. Her skin was on fire. She felt her nipples stiffen even more, pressing painfully against her blouse. Her thighs quivered as her pussy throbbed.

“I…I can’t stop it,” she whimpered, her voice cracking as another moan escaped, louder this time. Her head tipped back, her blonde hair falling over her shoulders as her body arched involuntarily. “It’s…it feels so good. Oh god, it’s so good.”

Mike stood from his chair, his concern battling with the undeniable arousal growing in him. He couldn’t take his eyes off her…her flushed cheeks, the way her body writhed, the glisten of sweat on her skin. “Lauren, talk to me,” he said, though his voice wavered. “What’s happening to you?”

Lauren doubled over suddenly, clutching her stomach as her moans turned into something almost guttural. Her back arched again, her fingers clawed at the table, her legs pressing together as if to contain the overwhelming sensations. “Ohhh, Mike…I…I can’t…ohhh!”

And then it hit her.

Her body tensed, every muscle locking as she let out a high-pitched cry, trembling violently. The orgasm tore through her, leaving her gasping and shuddering as she collapsed onto the floor.

“Lauren!” Mike’s chair scraped back loudly as he rushed around the table to her side.

She lay there on her back, panting heavily, her eyes fluttering open and closed. “Mike…I…” she started, but her words cut off with a gasp as her body began to shift before his eyes.

Mike knelt beside her, his heart racing as he watched. Her legs, slender and pale, began to lengthen, her thighs thickening into firm, toned curves. Her hips arched upward, widening slightly, her waist slimming even further into an exaggerated hourglass shape.

Mike couldn’t look away as her chest rose and swelled, her flat chest filling out until her blouse strained against the growing fullness of her breasts.

Even her face changed, her features softening, her lips plumping into a full, glossy pout that begged to be kissed. Her hair darkened to a rich honey brown, cascading down her back.

And her clothes–oh god, her clothes—shifted along with her body. The plain beige blouse and pants melted away. A striped button-up shirt hung loosely from her shoulders, the top buttons undone to reveal a lacy lavender bra that barely contained her newfound curves. The matching panties hugged her hips perfectly, the dark lace accentuating every inch of her.

Mike took it all in. His wife, his Lauren, looked like someone else entirely. She was stunning, raw sexuality.

Lauren’s eyes fluttered open, and she let out a soft, breathless moan as she slowly sat up. Her gaze locked onto Mike’s, and a sly, predatory smile spread across her lips. “Mike,” she purred, her voice like velvet. “What’s the matter? Don’t you recognize me?”

Mike stared at her, completely stunned, his heart pounding in his chest.

Lauren slowly pushed herself to her feet, like a predator stalking its prey. Her lips parted into a sultry grin as she looked at Mike.

She reached for him, her nails lightly grazing his shirt as she leaned in close, her breath hot against his ear. “Mike,” she purred, her voice dripping with need. “Why are you just staring? Don’t you want to touch me?”

Mike swallowed hard, his throat dry as he struggled to form words. “L-Lauren, I… I don’t understand what’s going on. Are you…feeling okay?”

She let out a soft, throaty laugh, her fingers trailing down his chest. “Oh, I feel better than okay. I feel incredible.” Her hips swayed as she stepped even closer, her body pressed against his. “And you’re going to feel incredible too, if you stop talking and start fucking me.”

“Lauren, wait,” Mike stammered, taking a step back, though his eyes couldn’t leave hers, or her body.

Her hands moved to his belt, her nails grazing the leather as she tugged him closer. “I’ve been a good little wife for so long, haven’t I? Cooking, cleaning, keeping my legs crossed while you barely looked at me. But not anymore.” She licked her lips, her gaze locking onto his like a magnet. “I want you to give me everything you’ve got.”

Mike’s hands hovered near her arms, torn between pulling her closer and pushing her away.

“I don’t care about being proper, or polite, or whatever the fuck we were doing before.” Her hands slid up his chest, over his shoulders, pulling him down until her lips were millimeters from his. “All I care about is feeling you inside me. Right here. Right now.”

Mike’s resolve cracked, his breath catching as her hips pressed firmly against his, grinding ever so slightly. He could feel the heat radiating off her, and his body betrayed him.

Lauren smirked, noticing his reaction. “That’s more like it,” she murmured, her voice low and teasing. “I can feel how much you want me, Mike. So stop pretending you’re in control, and let me show you what I’ve been dying for.”

She grabbed his hand and guided it down to her waist, pressing his palm against her panties. She leaned into his ear, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Do you feel that? How hot I am for you? How wet?”

Lauren reached for the wine bottle, her movements unhurried and deliberate. She poured herself a fresh glass, her fingers tracing the rim as she swirled the dark liquid. She took a slow sip, her gaze locked on Mike’s, her lips parting slightly as she savored the taste.

Mike’s face burned, his heart hammering in his chest. “Lauren, this is…”

“Exactly what we both need,” she said, cutting him off again. Her hands trailed down his arms, her nails lightly raking his skin as she leaned back. “So stop talking and start doing what we both know you want to do.”

She reached behind herself, unclasping the bra with one smooth motion. It fell to the floor, and she stood before him, her chest bare.

“Come on,” she said, her voice a seductive purr. She turned away from him, taking the wine glass in one hand as she began to walk towards the bedroom, her hips swaying with exaggerated purpose.

“Lauren…” he started, his voice hoarse, but he didn’t know what to say.

She glanced over her shoulder, her expression one of unrestrained hunger. “Are you coming, Mike?”

Mike’s body moved before his brain could catch up. He followed her, watching her fall onto the bed, splashing wine over her naked breasts. Her lips curved into a wicked smile as she licked the wine off her nipple.

“Now,” she said, her tone both commanding and pleading, “are you going to fuck me like I’ve been begging for? Or do I need to get on my knees and convince you?”

#personality change #f2f transformation #slutification

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choerypetal · 1 year ago

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Having a relationship between Mike Schmidt and Steve Raglan

Having to share a relationship between Mike Schmidt and Steve Raglan would be interesting (SFW & NSFW) hihi Enjoy!

SFW

If a romantic entanglement involving Mike, Steve, and yourself were ever to materialize, it's worth noting that they aren't particularly keen on sharing. Especially if one of them feels that they monopolizing their time with you a little too much. You see, to them, you serve as both entertainment and a source of distraction to maintain their sanity.

Steve had a distinctive approach to relationships. He relished role-playing scenarios and enjoyed seeing you play the role of a devoted partner. Upon returning from work, he had an expectation that you would have dinner prepared for him upon his arrival. That meant, dressing like a wife and being meticulously responsible with your duty.

Steve had a deep appreciation for your culinary skills. Every Friday, as a gesture of gratitude for your kindness and domestic attentiveness, he would order takeout on his way home. This package usually included a thoughtful card, a bouquet of flowers, and a bottle of wine. And each evening would often culminate in a relaxed yet passionate encounter.

In contrast to Steve, Mike had a completely different perspective. Having faced numerous challenges in his life, he viewed you as the love of his life. This sentiment often translated into him tenderly embracing you, wrapping his arms around your waist when he returned home from work, eagerly anticipating dinner. His guilt for not assisting with meal preparations weighed on him, but you, understanding how exhausted he was, firmly insisted that he relax and even allowed him to rest his head on your shoulder.

While you appreciated his efforts to assist you, you also took pleasure in witnessing his relaxation. It was a rare sight, the way he would occasionally sneak a kiss from you, even when you pretended to be asleep before he headed off to work. It was these small gestures that brought him great joy. Sometimes, they led to extended cuddling sessions that seemed to stretch for hours, only to be interrupted by the reminder that he had to return to work.

NSFW

Dry Humping :

This was a favorite experience for both of them. Mike, in particular, preferred a gentle and unhurried approach. He took pleasure in watching the gradual blush deepen on your cheeks with each tender moment. The subtle friction between your lingerie and the warmth of his clothing held a special allure for Mike. Let's just say that Mike reveled in intimate moments that were passionate and unhurried. In fact, there were times when he was so exhausted that he willingly relinquished control to you. When he returned home from work, he'd head straight to his room, a subtle invitation for you to join him. You'd often find him already asleep, lying on his back, his face turned towards you with closed eyes. Sometimes, the sensations of your movements would stir him, leaving you in suspense, unable to discern whether he was truly asleep or not. This ambiguity added an extra layer of enjoyment to the experience for both of you.

For Steve, it was the complete opposite. Whenever he was engrossed in work or engaged in a call with a client, you would stealthily enter his office, taking extra care to make no noise that might raise suspicion. This clandestine rendezvous was something Steve found quite enjoyable. As you approached him, it was you who would assert control before he had a chance to resist. Only once the calls and other tasks were completed would he finally wrap his arms around your petite waist. The sensation of your clothes rubbing against each other would gradually intensify, transitioning from a slow pace to something more urgent. Your voice would fill the room, calling out his name, as he leaned in to explore the curve of your neck, his full lips eagerly exploring every inch they could reach.

Peaking :

Mike typically wasn't one to sneak a peek, but when he was truly captivated, you couldn't underestimate his curiosity. His fascination often went a bit overboard whenever you entered the same room as him. You began to notice this when you returned late from your job at the local canteen, still wearing the uniform that your boss required all waitresses to wear. Exhausted from your long day, you inadvertently forgot to lock the door while changing, and this presented an unexpected opportunity for Mike. Although he had seen a naked body before, it was his way of expressing his deep admiration for you. While it may have seemed a bit strange at the beginning of your relationship, you eventually grew to appreciate how his eyes would light up as each piece of clothing was removed. Even the subtle moments, like when you knelt down to retrieve something you had dropped, only to find Mike discreetly stealing a glance, became endearing in their own way.

Steve had a more uninhibited approach to peeking. While Mike would either request it in advance or on specific occasions, Steve didn't bother with such formalities. In fact, he often indulged in discreet glances in your direction whenever you made any kind of movement. Whether you were bending down to pick something up from the floor or leaning forward to him, providing him with an enticing view of your cleavage, Steve didn't hold back. Sometimes, when Steve visited the Pizzeria where you worked, your role as his employee also meant being at his beck and call for whatever he desired that evening. As the boss, he expected you to accommodate his requests, and if that involved being a source of temptation for him, he was sure to make it abundantly clear.

Intercourse :

Mike had a preference for unhurried and passionate encounters. He wasn't inclined to opt for quickies, and if the thought ever crossed his mind, it was likely during a moment of urgency. In general, he favored languid and intimate sessions, whether it was in the morning, sometimes in the shower, or at night – especially if you managed to steal away to the Pizzeria to entice him. He was the kind of lover who left you in a state of lingering desire, a reminder of who you belonged to, without being overly rough and leaving you sometimes when he dared to with a hint of looping tease. However, if he did go a bit too far, which you didn't mind at all. In fact, you found his earnest apologies endearing, and it even added an extra layer of intimacy to your relationship. To this, Mike didn't raise any objections.

Steve, on the other hand, had a fondness for the intensity of quick and passionate encounters. He took pleasure in witnessing your eyes roll back in ecstasy as your bodies ignited with desire, feeling your fingernails dig into his skin, leaving their mark all over you. Steve delighted in the idea of demonstrating that you were unequivocally his, regardless of the setting, even if it meant a hasty encounter in a department store's changing room. While he wasn't particularly keen on public spaces, your fascination with them was one of your fantasies that deeply aroused him, pushing him to explore more daring encounters, including in his office. Steve wasn't hesitant to leave tender red marks on your buttocks, eliciting your passionate pleas and cries for his name, often rendering you unable to move the next day. This, in turn, led to teasing and left you blushing intensely, with a pout that invited a mischievous grin to dance across his face.

After care :

Mike was incredibly nurturing and affectionate when it came to post-intimacy care. After both of you had reached the peak of pleasure, and with exhaustion from your busy days taking over, you often found yourselves napping for extended periods. His lips would tenderly pepper your warm skin, repeating declarations of love for you. Sometimes, he'd suggest taking a soothing shower together, and on other occasions, he'd wrap his arms around you to cuddle for hours, all the while engaging in lighthearted conversations about life and sharing silly dad jokes. This would often result in Mike monopolizing the conversation, but he would always pause to place a gentle kiss on your lips, his fingers tracing gentle circles on your body, conveying a desire to hold onto that intimate moment for as long as possible.

Despite Steve's dominant and somewhat sadistic tendencies, he possessed a unique and caring side, which may have seemed peculiar to some but was endearing to you. After an intimate session, he would tenderly scoop you up in a bridal style if you happened to be at home. Steve would then prepare a soothing, warm bath for both of you, complete with a glass of wine, all in an effort to pamper and clean you. He'd wash away any traces of the session and proceed to plant more kisses on your skin, as though the ones he had left earlier weren't sufficient. You couldn't help but chuckle at the sensation of his plump lips caressing your soft skin, especially as the warm bathwater enveloped both of you. Steve had a penchant for the simpler pleasures in life, and if a bath and some extra cuddling brought happiness to your world, it was all that truly mattered to him.

#josh hutcherson x reader #micheal afton x reader #josh hutcherson #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #imagines #fnaf #fnaf movie x reader #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt x y/n #william afton x reader #steve raglan x reader #x reader #fnaf smut #mike schmidt smut #steve raglan smut #william afton #william afton x you

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bigmpregnm · 2 months ago

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Secret Family Ties - Part 2

[Story Collection] | [●] [Part 3🔜]

During a warm afternoon, Mike walked out of his house to tend to his garden and enjoy the serenity in the neighborhood. A week had passed since the twins left, and their dad had returned to his usual quiet rhythm. The sunlight dappled through the leaves, creating a comforting mosaic on the ground. Mike wore a loose tank top and shorts, a comfortable outfit for a man his age. His shaggy hair danced along with the soft, fresh breeze.

Mike took a deep breath and smiled as he approached the rose bushes to trim them and immediately noticed George mowing his lawn on the other side of the fence. Mike stared for a few seconds, thinking about his sons’ visit while staring at their friend until George noticed his presence.

“Hey, Mr. Harlow!” George called out, wiping sweat from his brow with a grin. His athletic shirtless build glistened under the sun, and the effort of the work made his lean musculature bulge slightly more pronounced.

“Hey, George,” Mike replied, smiling back at his young neighbor who approached the fence. “How are you doing?”

“Good, good. I’m just trying to keep the yard in shape before the babies arrive and we enter a chaotic realm,” George said, chuckling. “We still have a couple of weeks before they arrive, but we’re trying to do stuff ahead in case they want to surprise us. The doctor said they’re pretty big and wouldn’t be surprised if Stacey gets in labor earlier, but I don’t think that’ll happen.”

“Oh! Having everything ready before they come is a great idea. You have no idea how chaotic life becomes with two newborns crying 24/7. When Kyle and Mark were born, the apartment we lived in back then turned into a mess,” Mike said, laughing. “We barely had time to eat or rest, so cleaning around wasn’t a priority. So, you better clean as much as possible right now.”

George leaned on the fence with a casual yet charming smile. He excitedly stared at Mike, admiring how much he looked like his sons. “I bet they were a lot to handle, but you did great, Mr. Harlow. Mark and Kyle are the best guys I’ve ever met, and it’s all thanks to you,” George said, moving his hand over his bare torso to remove some dirt. “It was great to see them again, by the way.”

“Oh, yeah. The twins were excited about seeing you again. They were happy and surprised about your coming twins,” Mike responded, marveling at George’s torso. “They talked about you the whole week.”

“We had our chance to reconnect after all these years,” George said, chuckling. “But I bet you miss them a lot now.”

“I do. The house feels a bit empty without them,” Mike said, looking sad. “You know their dad passed away when they were kids, and since then, they’re all I have.”

“Well, Mr. Harlow, we all need some company. You’re a wonderful man. You’re incredibly good-looking, just like your sons. They’re lucky to look so much like you,” George said, winking at Mike, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. “A man like you shouldn’t be lonely.”

“Oh, thanks, I guess,” Mike responded, somewhat confused with George’s comment.

“If you ever need company, you know where to find me,” George responded, his smile growing more playful.

Mike felt a strange flutter in his stomach, feeling that George’s words meant something else. He stared at George for a few seconds, marveling at his outstanding good looks and charm. “I appreciate it, but a handsome young man like you wouldn’t like to hang out with an old man like me. I bet you have better things to do,” Mike said, looking at George’s torso up and down.

“So… You think I’m handsome, eh?” George said, raising one eyebrow while grinning.

“Well… yeah. I do. I mean, you’re very handsome,” Mike said, blushing. “The twins playfully called you Stud all week. I guess you match the description.”

“I’m glad you think I do,” George responded, grinning broadly. “You know, Stacey’s not home. She’s at the mall buying baby stuff, and I need some help with the nursery. Painting walls and building the cribs. Would you mind giving me a hand? I’m sure you’re an expert.”

“Sure, why not?” Mike responded without hesitation, feeling drawn by George’s charming attitude. He couldn’t help but feel like he was doing something wrong, but as he followed George to his house, Mike swiped off the thoughts and focused on enjoying the young man’s company.

George led Mike to the nursery, a room with one wall painted soft sky blue while the others remained white. Two boxes were on the corner, and Mike figured the unassembled cribs were inside. Several baby-themed decorations were on a table, waiting for the rest of the nursery to be done.

“It’s a bit hot in here. The A/C is disconnected until the painting is done,” George commented as he pulled one of the boxes from the corner, his lean musculature moving hypnotically with the effort. “I wouldn’t mind if you took the tank top off so it doesn’t get sweaty.”

Mike froze for a few seconds and then nodded, feeling the heat in the room. As Mike removed his tank top, revealing his dad-bod and gut, George smiled and admired him with a hint of lust. George felt his dick stirring in his pants as he saw Mike’s soft, mature frame moving around the room. George had loved the twins’ average, cute bodies, but there was something about Mike’s slightly thicker physique that caught his attention and instantly turned him on.

George and Mike started by painting the remaining walls with soft sky blue, a traditional choice since Stacey was having twin boys. Since the room was hot, their bodies glistened with sweat as they worked. They stayed silent for a while, but George couldn’t stop looking at Mike, and he noticed the older man glancing at him very often. They stood side by side minutes later when all the walls were painted to admire their handiwork.

“It looks great. This color brings back some memories. We used a similar color for the boys’ nursery when they were born,” Mike said, smiling. “It was cute.”

George grinned and turned to look at Mike, whose sweaty body looked fantastic. “You know, I’ve been meaning to ask... What was it like when you were pregnant with the twins?”

Mike paused, a nostalgic smile spreading across his face. “It was great. The best thing I’ve done in my life,” he said, moving his hand to his abdomen. “Feeling them grow inside me. Feeling them kick and move. It was so fulfilling.”

“Sounds lovely. Anything else you remember about that time?” George said, looking down at Mike’s hand caressing his gut.

“Well… I remember I was permanently aroused,” Mike admitted, blushing. “My whole body was so sensitive, and even a slight brush turned me like a wildfire. It was unbelievable. Everything felt so good, and sex was out of this world. Believe me, pregnant sex is another thing.”

George chuckled, moving closer to Mike until there was barely any space between them. “It is, and you seem to miss it,” George said, placing his hand on Mike’s abdomen to caress it.

Mike’s body shivered when he felt George’s hand on his gut. “Well… sometimes. It’s been a long time, and... and...”

“Have you ever thought about doing it again?” George said, standing right before Mike to caress his gut with both hands, his grin turning playful again. “I think you’d make a great dad again, Mr. Harlow.”

“I… I… No. I mean… I’ve been alone all these years,” Mike said as his dick started hardening in his shorts, forming a tent at the idea of getting pregnant again.

George noticed Mike’s hard-on and passionately caressed the older man’s gut. “I think you’d love to be pregnant again, and... I think I can...” George began but was interrupted when Mike tried to escape his arms.

“I think I should go. The walls are done, and I don’t think you’ll have a problem with the cribs.” Mike stepped backward and tried to move away, but George held him by the arm and pulled him closer.

“Don’t leave. I know you want this as much as I do,” George said, pulling Mike tighter against his body and feeling the older man’s gut against his abs. “Think about it. I could help you experience the joys of being pregnant again, Mr. Harlow.”

Mike’s heart pounded in his chest. He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. Silence filled the room for a few seconds until Mike managed to form a few words. “George, but... you... and Stacey,” Mike said, trying to resist the urge to let himself go into George’s passionate intentions.

“She’s not coming home for a while. You don’t have to worry about her. She’ll never know anyway,” George said, pulling his pants down to reveal his 10-inch-long hard dick. “I just want to show you what a man like you deserves. To be loved. To be desired. To be fucked.” George leaned in to kiss Mike’s lips, sending shivers down the older man’s spine. This was all it took for Mike to get lost in George’s passionate acts.

“But... you’re young, and I...” Mike mumbled between kisses, unable to resist George.

“Age is just a number. You’re an attractive man, and I’d love... to help you get even hotter, full with my children,” George added, making out with Mike as he reached for the older man’s butt to squeeze it hard. “Think about it: two of my kids, moving and turning in your tummy. Your sons are perfect already, but imagine if you add my genes to the next pair.”

Mike couldn’t respond and only enjoyed George’s lips on his. The making out was so passionate that Mike could barely breathe, and his heart excitedly raced in his chest. “They’d be studs like you,” Mike muttered.

“Or like you,” George said, pulling Mike closer while they continued making out. “So, what do you say?”

“Do it! Fuck me, George!” Mike responded, lost in George’s lips.

George didn’t hesitate and quickly removed his pants to reveal his 10-inch-long dick. He pulled Mike’s hand to get in on his dick, and Mike gasped when he felt the size of the young man’s fuck tool. Mike looked down and gasped when he saw George’s hard dick and carefully stroked it. George smiled, enjoying Mike’s touch and leaning forward to help Mike remove his pants. The heat in the room intensified as they stood naked before each other.

“Do you like it?” George said, pushing his hips forward to remark that he was talking about his dick.

“It’s perfect. So big,” Mike responded, enamored of George’s dick. “No wonder you got Stacey so big with it.”

George chuckled as Mike wrapped a second hand around the long and thick dick. “I’m aiming to get you just as big or even bigger, Mr. Harlow,” he said, enjoying Mike’s stroking. “But you can have some fun before the main event.” George wicked at Mike, and the older man kneeled before him to fit the dick in his mouth.

Mike locked his lips around the big, shiny head of George’s dick and started passionately sucking on it while his hands continued stroking the shaft. George groaned in pleasure and placed his hand on Mike’s head to hold it in place. Mike took several inches of the big dick, but it was too big to fit it whole. Even then, George loved how willing Mike was, so he slowly bucked his hips to fuck the older man’s hungry mouth.

Mike moaned and intensified the sucking, using his tongue to tease George’s dick slit. It had been many years since the last time he had any intimacy, but he still had the skills to make the younger man moan loudly. George closed his eyes as his whole body shivered due to pleasure. He couldn’t believe Mike’s mouth felt so good, and he couldn’t wait to find out how his ass felt around his dick.

“Mr. Harlow, that feels so good. You’ll make me cum if you keep going,” George said between moans while Mike deep-throated most of his dick. “Turn around. Don’t let this load go to waste.”

Mike immediately obeyed and got on all fours on the floor. George quickly kneeled and positioned himself behind him, taking a few seconds to knead the older man’s ass cheeks. George couldn’t help but think about Kyle and Mark while looking at their dad’s ass, but even though he desired the twins, Mike had something special that drove him crazy. Deep inside him, he really wanted to get Mike pregnant.

George didn’t hesitate anymore and lined his dick with Mike’s hole, quickly pushing his hips forward to bury his 10-inch-long dick inside. Mike’s ass initially resisted the thick intruder, but George wasn’t willing to give up, so he caressed Mike’s lower back and hips to help him relax. Mike groaned as he felt the pressure on his ass, but George’s touch made him feel so good that his muscles relaxed, and he felt the huge dick slowly sliding in.

“Ohh fuck! You’re so big, George,” Mike muttered as he felt his hole stretching to accommodate the young man’s dick. “It hurts, but it feels so good.”

“Take your time, Mr. Harlow. I know it’s a lot to take after so many years,” George said, pushing the rest of his dick into his neighbor, who moaned and groaned loudly in pleasure and pain. “I promise I’ll be gentle until you get used to it.”

“Ugghh… I don’t think I can get used to it. I had never taken a dick this big,” Mike responded, taking deep breaths as his body adjusted to George’s fuck tool.

“I’ll take that as a compliment, Mr. Harlow,” George responded, leaning forward to rest his upper body on Mike’s back. George grinned and whispered in Mike’s ears, “I’m willing to do this as often as you want until you get used to my size.”

Mike only groaned in response and absentmindedly pushed his hips backward, longing for more of George’s dick inside him. George took this reaction as a sign that Mike was ready to keep going, so he started slowly bucking his hips. George pulled about 6 inches of his dick out of Mike, only to ram it back in with a powerful thrust that made Mike moan out loudly. George’s pounding continued and soon had a pace that left Mike gasping and moaning uncontrollably.

Mike’s eyes rolled inside his head while George’s huge cock rearranged his guts and made him feel better than he had felt in years. Mike felt his own dick violently throbbing while George stimulated his prostate with each thrust. He loved how deep George’s dick reached and how wide his hole stretched to accommodate it. Mike loved how the younger man’s body felt on top of him. He loved the powerful thrusts, and he only wanted more.

“More! Please! George! Fuck me hard!” Mike mumbled, barely able to speak, as pleasure took over his mind, blurring his thoughts.

“Immediately, Mr. Harlow,” George responded as his pounding intensified in strength and speed, making Mike moan even louder. “We’ll need to settle a nursery room at your home to place our babies in a few months. You’ll get so big with my kids. Is that what you want, Mr. Harlow?”

“Yes! Yes! Please! I want it!” Mike responded, fully embracing the need to carry George’s babies.

“We’ll paint the room for them. You’ll need cribs and toys,” George whispered while pounding as fast as possible. “We’ll give Kyle and Mark a set of handsome little brothers. I’m sure you’ll love to do this all over again and don’t worry, I’ll help you with everything because your belly will be too big.”

Mike only responded with more moans and groans as he thought about being pregnant with George’s babies. He knew it was all horny talk during sex, but deep inside him, Mike wanted and longed to have babies growing inside him again. He could feel George’s pre-cum entering him and coating his insides, meaning a massive orgasm was close, and he could only think about getting pregnant with George’s children.

He knew the young man was married and expecting twins with his wife, but Mike needed to feel George flooding his womb with his warm seed. His body begged for it, and his mind was needy. Every single inch of his body needed George’s cum.

“Please. Knock me up,” Mike said as he felt George’s thrusts getting erratic and more powerful.

“That’s the plan, Mr. Harlow,” George said and pushed his whole dick into Mike, groaning loudly as his dick shot a torrent of cum.

“Oh fuck! That’s a huge load!” Mike reached for his abdomen when it started feeling bloated while George continued cumming. “So full! So much.”

George’s cum shots were large, and he lost track of the number of shots. “I’m pretty sure we’ll have at least twins after that load,” he said as his dick finally started getting softer.

George quickly pulled his dick out and carefully helped Mike get on his side on the floor to rest and catch his breath. The older man couldn’t get his hands off his bloated abdomen, still dazed by the most intense fucking he had ever experienced. George smiled and caressed Mike’s body while the man recovered. He knew it was difficult to handle his dick for the first time, but he was glad Mike had done it.

Stacey arrived home a few hours later, carrying several bags with baby clothes. She took the bags to the nursery, and the place was painted and decorated, with the cribs already assembled. George and Mike were hanging an elephant-themed lamp on the wall, the final touch to the decoration. Their shirtless bodies were covered in sweat.

“Wow. You must’ve worked really hard to finish the whole room so fast,” Stacey said, slowly approaching George, who turned around to kiss her.

“Hey, babe. I’m glad you’re back. We wanted to surprise you,” George said, kissing Stacey’s lips and placing his hand on her huge belly. “How are the babies doing?”

“They’ve been moving so much and kicking me all day. They’re as active as their dad; they can’t stay still, just like their dad,” Stacey said, playfully caressing George’s pec, making Mike chuckle. “I’m glad you got some help, George. I’d love it if you stayed for dinner, Mr. Harlow. You’ve worked so hard with the babies’ room. I really appreciate it.”

“It’s fine. George did all the hard work. I’d love to have dinner with you, but there are pending chores at home. Maybe another day,” Mike said, chuckling again and picking up his tank top to put it on, caressing his bloated belly. “You’re a lucky lady, Stacey. You have a wonderful husband, so... take good care of him.”

“Thanks. I know I’m lucky. My big man is the best husband, and I’m sure he’ll be the best dad,” Stacey said, kissing George’s lips. “I’ll change into more comfortable clothes, so... if you want to come once you’re done here,” she added, playfully winking at George before leaving the room.

“I better go home. I had a wonderful time, and I’m glad we managed to finish... everything,” Mike said, walking to the door, and George quickly followed him to walk him to the front door.

“I loved our time together, and... I’d be more than willing to come over to your place and work on some things whenever you want, Mr. Harlow,” George said as they approached the front door, grinning and reaching to caress Mike’s hips. “You know where to find me.”

Mike smiled and chuckled, marveling at George’s charm and handsomeness. “I’ll keep that in mind. Now, go take care of your wife; I’m pretty sure she’s waiting for you and that big dick of yours to have some fun. As I said, she’s lucky. See you later, George,” he said as he left.

George ran upstairs to his very pregnant wife but couldn’t stop thinking about Kyle, Mark, and Mike.

...

#mpreg #mpreg story #bigmnm commissions

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cosmowgyral · 21 hours ago

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"The Vicious Wildcat is Clumsily Affectionate"

▪︎ Kagari's 1st Birthday

This is a fan translation so please don't expect it to be 100% accurate. Creative liberties have been taken. All content belongs to Cybird. Reblogs are appreciated. Hope you enjoy!

This is my very first time translating/reading a Kagari event and since he is not yet out in the EN server, there might be terms that will turn out different than what I have used here when he is finally released.

Chapter 2

Man with a horrid appearance: What is with this guy?

Emma: I…I won’t let you take even one step beyond this point!

In a back alley, isolated from the hustle and bustle of the town people, I came across some tough-looking men.

I gasped at the weapons hanging from their waists, but I unsheathed the sword that Prince Kagari had given to me.

Man with a horrid appearance: I don’t really get it, but you know us, don’t you?

(…..No, I have no idea.)

Man with a horrid appearance: Let’s go.

The men drew their swords laughing vilely.

They were real ones, different from my replica.

The blades were aimed at me- but before anything could happen, the man at the front was crushed by a shadow that fell from the sky.

Man with a horrid appearance: What?!

Kagari: It’s a shame.

In the blink of an eye, the men were blown away along with their swords.

They got slammed into the wall and fell to the ground with their eyes rolled up.

The fight was over within seconds, without Prince Kagari having to draw out his sword.

(I will never get used to seeing his extraordinary strength.)

Kagari: I don’t feel any sense of accomplishment. I wanted to face enough strength to draw my sword.

(…..I wonder how many people exist in Kogyoku who are worthy of being a match for Prince Kagari.)

When I came to my senses and tried to pull out my fake sword, Prince Kagari spun around and grabbed my hand.

Kagari: Princess, the correct stance is this.

Emma: I see…

Kagari: Also, being hesitant amidst a battle is prohibited.

Emma: I didn’t notice.

Kagari: I thought so. Even in the guise of a subordinate, you look weak.

Emma: ….Sorry

(I’m only an amateur so please forgive me.)

(I never thought I would be asked to help with a capture.)

While holding my hand, he puts his other palm on my waist.

As I straightened my back with effort, Prince Kagari looked satisfied despite his expressionless face.

Cat: Meow…

Kagari: Ah, wait.

(A cat?)

A cat appeared out of nowhere and rubbed against Prince Kagari’s feet.

He knelt down, patted his head, and gave him a small folded piece of paper.

The cat quickly picked up the paper and left.

Emma: That was…

Kagari: Mike no. 1

(That’s a weird name.)

Kagari: He often wanders around the town. If you want to contact me, you can rely on him.

Emma: Not a carrier pigeon….but a carrier cat.

Kagari: Yeah

(He’s a good cat. I’ll remember him.)

Emma: The paper you gave him….

Kagari: I called my subordinates. It is always a pain to clean up afterwards.

Prince Kagari answered calmly as he stood up and looked down at the men lying nearby.

Kagari: This is a ‘present’ given to me every year amidst all these birthday celebrations.

Kagari: I was hoping for a worthy opponent, but I got disappointed again this year.

(Someone sends him assassins on his birthday?)

Prince Kagari is the faction’s main fighting force and the trump card of this territory.

As long as Kogyoku’s yasha is present, the safety of the territory is guaranteed, so it’s no surprise that there are people who would attempt to breach the ironclad defense.

(But to target him even on a special day like this..)

Kagari: Princess

Prince Kagari presses his thumb between my eyebrows.

(….I wonder if my eyebrows were furrowed.)

Kagari: You will still be my subordinate.

Emma: Are you okay with such a weak subordinate?

Kagari: This will make it easier for them to attack.

Kagari: You’re the only one who can be such a tempting bait.

(If being together like this helps Prince Kagari….)

Emma: I’ll do my best as a bait.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ㅤ𔘓 ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Men in town: Happy birthday, Prince Kagari!

Town woman: Dorayaki is being baked all over town today. In fact, there’s hardly a single store that isn’t baking them….!

As soon as he stepped onto the main street, Prince Kagari was swarmed by townspeople.

Kagari: ..Yeah

He shows no interest in the wishes and gifts that shower him, and his reaction is just as empty as it was at the castle.

(Everyone is smiling and their words sound sincere, so why do I feel something strange in their attitude?)

I need to listen more carefully and pick up words.

Men in town: It’s thanks to Prince Kagari that we can live in such peace.

Town woman: Please protect us forever. We will do anything to achieve this…!

(…..)

(Oh, I see. This is….)

(It’s just a way to win over Prince Kagari’s favour.)

(Everyone is celebrating because he is essential to the peace of this territory.)

(But it is still a celebration….)

Town woman: By the way, Prince Kagari, have you received greetings from Emma yet?

The sound of my name made me leap.

Kagari: I haven’t received it.

Town woman: In that case, I’ll make sure to tell her to wish you the next time we meet.

Town woman: I have no doubt that her wish will please you the most.

Knowing people’s thoughts, I started to realise the full amount of the pressure I was under to celebrate the Yasha.

(…I don’t think celebrations should be forced.)

What welled up inside me was more than just frustration; it was a feeling of sadness.

(I hesitated to celebrate earlier because Prince Kagari didn’t seem interested in the celebrations at all….)

(I think we should celebrate him properly. Not to appease him or anything like that….)

Emma: Prince Kagari

To get through the crowd quickly, I casually grabbed his hand.

Men in town: By the way, Prince Kagari, it seems you have brought along an aide we have never seen before.

Kagari: He’s my new subordinate and is also quite a skilled swordsman. You all should be careful.

Kagari: If he draws his sword, he can easily cut off your heads.

The lie delivered with a straight face seemed incredibly effective; so I took advantage of them being flustered and hesitant, and quickly pulled Prince Kagari’s hand and left the place in a hurry.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ㅤ𔘓 ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

After receiving several more ‘presents’, Prince Kagari headed to the banquet as the sky began to darken.

Kagari: I had an appointment today.

[Chapter 1] [Masterlist] [Chapter 3]

#ikemen prince #ikepri kagari #kagari amagase #ikepri translations #ikemen prince translations #ikepri #ikepri jp #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #d: omiresources

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acute-crashout-jeyuso · 1 month ago

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Checkmate ( Book 3 of 3 in BTR Series ) a Jhea Fanfic.

Chapter 1: The New Norm..

November 27th, 2025 1:11 PM

It had been three months since August 27th, the day Rhea had been kidnapped, and Jey was barely holding on. The world around him felt muted, his grief and frustration turning every moment into a battle to stay upright. He had shut nearly everyone out, retreating into his own pain. Calls went unanswered, texts unread. Even Jey’s family, Talisua and Solofa, who had temporarily moved in to help with Jeyson, found themselves kept at arm’s length.

Jey’s ex-wife, Takecia, was the only one who managed to keep the lines of communication open, but even then, their conversations were limited. She only called to update him about Jeyce and Jaciyah, ensuring he knew they were okay. Though Jey appreciated her efforts, it didn’t ease the ache in his chest. Every time he heard her voice, he couldn’t help but think of Rhea—the love of his life, his wife—gone.

Rhea’s parents were making moves to sell their home in Australia, desperate to be closer to their grandson and to support Jey. But Jey couldn’t find the words to talk to them either. Every conversation felt like an acknowledgment of Rhea’s absence, and that was a reality he wasn’t ready to face.

During the first month, Jey found a rare moment of solace in the company of his tattoo artist, Samoan Mike. Mike had come by, offering his time and skill as a way to help Jey process his pain. What was meant to be a simple session turned into a 8-hour marathon, each needle stroke a catharsis for the emotions Jey couldn’t put into words.

On his left hand, Mike inked a small version of Rhea’s ceramic chicken, the one she had proudly displayed on the back of her arm—a quirky and meaningful tattoo that Rhea had once described as her favorite. Jey smiled faintly as he thought of how much she would have loved it. He added another palm tree on his stomach, this time inscribed with Jeyson’s name, joining the trees already dedicated to Jaciyah and Jeyce.

Finally, Mike worked on Jey’s wedding finger. There, Jey had a simple “D” tattooed in bold black ink, a permanent reminder that no matter what happened, Demi—his Rhea—was and always would be his wife. It was an unspoken vow that Jey intended to honor, no matter how uncertain the future seemed.

The weight of the tattoos was both physical and emotional, grounding Jey in the love and memories he had of Rhea while pushing him forward for the sake of their son.

Jeyson had grown so much in the past three months. What had once been a tiny newborn was now a chubby, smiley little boy. His cheeks were round, his arms and legs plump, earning him the nickname Rhea had always called him—her “chunky monkey.”

Jey often found himself staring at Jeyson for hours, watching the little movements he made, the way he gripped at his bottle or giggled at the sight of his favorite stuffed animal. Every giggle, every coo, was a bittersweet reminder of Rhea. She should have been there to see it all, to laugh with them, to call Jeyson her little chunky monkey one more time.

Despite his heartbreak, Jey knew he had to keep going. For Jeyson. For their family. But the emptiness left by Rhea’s absence felt like a wound that wouldn’t heal. Each passing day without her was another reminder of the fight he had to endure, and though the world around him continued to move, Jey felt frozen in place.

Still, deep down, he clung to the hope that he would find her. That somehow, some way, Rhea would come back to them. Until then, all he could do was hold onto the memories, the love they shared, and the promise that no matter what, he wouldn’t stop fighting for her.

Jey sat at the edge of the couch, the memory still fresh, as if it had happened just yesterday. The series of events had unfolded so quickly, yet every moment lingered in his mind like a nightmare on repeat.

It began with the notification on his phone. Rhea’s location, which she kept on for safety reasons, had gone offline. His initial reaction had been concern, but not panic—maybe her phone had died. He called her, and it answered but then the phone had hanged up. This went on for ten more times until finally the phone went to voicemail. That was when the unease began to set in.

He immediately dialed Hunter, the one person he knew would have answers.

“Hunter, have you seen Rhea?” Jey asked, his voice shaky but composed enough to mask the fear creeping in.

“No,” Hunter replied, his tone puzzled. “She wasn’t supposed to be in the office today. Why?”

Jey explained about the call from Sabrina, how Rhea had mentioned something urgent that required her to go to the office. There was a pause before Hunter answered again.

“Sabrina didn’t tell me anything about contacting Rhea. In fact, there’s a strict rule to notify Bruce for anything urgent.” His voice sharpened. “Let me look into this, Jey. I’ll call you back.”

The minutes that followed felt endless. Jey’s anxiety grew with each passing second, his mind racing with scenarios—none of them good. When his phone finally rang, he answered before the first ring finished.

“Jey,” Hunter said, his tone grim. “It’s bad.”

“What do you mean ‘bad’?” Jey demanded, his voice trembling.

Hunter’s voice was tight with controlled panic as he explained what they had uncovered on the security footage. Sabrina had been ambushed in a hallway, dragged into a closet by an unidentified assailant. Not long after, Rhea appeared on camera walking toward the entrance. A figure emerged behind her, pressing a rag to her face. She struggled, but the attacker overpowered her. Moments later, she was carried out of view and thrown into a van with no plates.

Hunter hesitated before continuing, as if bracing himself for the next part. “We called the police, Jey. They found Sabrina’s body in the closet. She didn’t make it.”

The words hit Jey like a punch to the gut. He couldn’t process it. His head spun as the reality of the situation set in—Rhea was gone, kidnapped in broad daylight, and someone had been murdered in the process.

Jey barely registered what happened next. The news spread like wildfire. Every news outlet picked up the story: “WWE Hall of Famer and New Mom, Rhea Ripley, Kidnapped from WWE Headquarters; Assistant Found Dead.”

Hours later, Stamford police arrived at Jey’s home. Their faces were grave as they delivered the official confirmation.

“Mr. Fatu,” one of the officers began, his voice heavy, “your wife has been abducted, and we’re doing everything we can to find her. We’re going to need your cooperation—”

Jey didn’t hear the rest. His body shook as he staggered backward, clutching the doorframe for support. He couldn’t breathe. The weight of it all crushed him—the thought of Rhea in danger, of her not coming home.

“FUCK!” Jey screamed, the sound raw and primal, echoing through the house. His knees buckled, and he collapsed to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.

Jon and Trinity, who had rushed over after hearing the news, tried to comfort him, but Jey was inconsolable. He thrashed and screamed until paramedics arrived to sedate him.

The house grew quiet as Jey was carried to his bedroom by Jon, the sedative lulling him into an uneasy sleep. Even in his unconscious state, his dreams were filled with Rhea’s face, her laughter, her voice calling out to him.

The next morning after that, he woke up to the same nightmare. Rhea was still gone, and the house felt emptier than ever.

Jey pulled himself out of his spiraling thoughts when the soft sound of cooing came through the baby monitor on the coffee table. It was faint but unmistakable—Jeyson was waking up. He exhaled deeply, running a hand down his face, then pushed himself off the couch. His footsteps were slow as he ascended the stairs, the familiar ache in his chest growing heavier with each step.

The walls leading to the nursery were lined with photos—family pictures taken before everything fell apart. His fingers brushed against the edge of a frame as he passed, his eyes briefly locking onto a candid shot of Rhea holding her belly. Her face had been lit with a joy that felt so distant now, like a light snuffed out by the darkness that had consumed their lives.

When he reached the nursery, Jey paused at the door. The room was filled with soft sunlight streaming through the curtains, bathing everything in a warm glow. It was deceptively peaceful compared to the turmoil in his heart. He pushed the door open gently, his eyes falling on Jeyson lying in the crib, his chubby arms waving aimlessly as he squirmed beneath the soft blanket.

“Hey, little man,” Jey whispered, his voice rough with exhaustion and emotion. He walked to the crib, leaning over to scoop Jeyson into his arms. The baby nuzzled into his chest immediately, his tiny hands clutching at Jey’s shirt.

As Jey held him, Jeyson’s gaze drifted upward, his small hand raising to point at the wall. Jey followed his son’s line of sight to the large blown-up photo of Rhea. It was Jey’s favorite picture, the one he insisted on framing—Rhea and Jey, them, on the day Jeyson was born. She was cradling Jeyson in her arms, her face radiant with pure, unfiltered love and Jey by her side, his smile showing affection and devotion.

“You dreaming of Mami?” Jey asked softly, his throat tightening. Jeyson babbled in response, his fingers still reaching toward the photo. The sight of his son pointing at her, so innocent and unaware, hit Jey like a punch to the gut.

“She loves you so much, little man,” Jey whispered, his voice cracking as he moved to the rocking chair by the window. He sank into the seat, cradling Jeyson close. “You know that, right? Mami… she’s everything to you. And to me.”

Jeyson made another sound, a soft coo that almost sounded like a laugh. His bright eyes never left the picture of Rhea, as if he could feel her presence through it. Jey gently rocked the chair, resting his chin on the baby’s head.

“She’d be so proud of you, man. You’re getting so big.” His voice trembled. “I tell myself every day that I gotta do better, gotta keep it together. For you. For her. But some days, man… some days, it’s hard.”

Jey kissed the top of Jeyson’s head, lingering there as he drew in the comforting scent of Dove baby lotion and innocence. It was moments like these that kept him grounded, that reminded him why he couldn’t give in to the despair clawing at him.

“They are gonna bring her home, Jeyson. Mami’s coming back to us.” His voice was low, but his words carried the weight of an unshakable promise.

Jeyson wriggled in his arms, letting out a small yawn before settling into his father’s chest. Jey leaned back in the chair, rocking slowly, his eyes locked on Rhea’s photo. He let the silence fill the room, broken only by the sound of Jeyson’s soft breathing.

“She’s out there,” Jey murmured to himself, more to convince his own heart than anything. “She will come back.”

Jeyson stirred slightly, his little fist clenching and unclenching as he drifted back to sleep. Jey held him a little tighter, drawing strength from the tiny life in his arms. He had to stay strong—not just for himself, but for their son, for the future Rhea would want them to have.

He closed his eyes briefly, sending a silent prayer into the universe: that wherever Rhea was, she could feel their love.

—

3:12 PM

Trinity managed to unlock the front door, balancing a plate in one hand and a pack of diapers in the other. She nudged the door open with her hip and stepped inside, letting the familiar silence of Jey’s house greet her. It was heavy, oppressive even.

Trinity glanced around, noting the state of the living room. Baby bottles lined the coffee table, an assortment of small toys were scattered on the rug, and baby blankets were draped haphazardly across the couch. It wasn’t messy in the usual sense—it was the chaos of someone barely holding it together.

She set the plate down on the kitchen island, taking a moment to survey the space. The fridge door had a picture of Jeyson taped to it, his tiny face grinning at the camera in a way that seemed to mock the silence of the home.

Trinity sighed, running a hand through her hair. She fed Bartholomew, the guinea pig, refilling his water and topping off his food. Then she moved to Barry and Bella, the family dogs, who wagged their tails weakly at her. Even they seemed subdued, as if they could feel the weight of the household. Finally, she filled Storm’s bowl, the aloof, fat cat brushing against her leg for a moment before slinking away.

Once everything downstairs was in order, she made her way upstairs, each step feeling heavier than the last. As she reached the top, the faint sound of music drifted through the hallway.

“I only have eyes for you…”

Trinity paused, the familiar tune pulling at her heartstrings. She recognized Jey’s voice, soft and broken, singing along to The Flamingos. It wasn’t like Jey to sing—not unless he was happy. And right now, happiness seemed like a distant memory.

She approached the nursery, stopping in the doorway. The sight before her made her chest tighten.

Jey was seated in the black rocking chair, cradling Jeyson in his arms. The baby’s tiny hand rested on his father’s chest, his eyes half-closed as he drank from the bottle. Jey swayed gently, his voice barely audible over the music playing from the speaker in the corner. His face was etched with exhaustion, his eyes red and hollow, but his movements were tender, careful, as though Jeyson was the only thing grounding him.

Trinity knocked softly on the doorframe. “Jey?”

Jey flinched slightly but didn’t look up. “Hey, Trin,” he murmured, his voice rough from disuse.

Trinity stepped inside, placing the diapers on the changing table and tidying up a few scattered items. “I brought you a plate,” she said gently. “Jon almost burned the turkey this year.”

A faint laugh escaped Jey’s lips, though it was short-lived. “Figures,” he said, his eyes still fixed on Jeyson.

Trinity sat down on the small stool next to the rocking chair. “The boys are asking about you,” she said after a moment.

Jey closed his eyes briefly, his jaw tightening. “I miss them,” he said quietly.

“Would you like to come over?” Trinity asked hopefully.

Jey shook his head, his movements slow and deliberate. “No,” he said simply.

Trinity hesitated, searching for the right words. “Jey, everyone’s there. Your mother and father, even Jaciyah and Jeyce. Takecia brought them over, I think being with them might help… being around family could—”

“It’s not going to help,” Jey interrupted, his voice firm but trembling. “It won’t. Nothing’s going to help, Trin.”

Trinity exhaled deeply, her heart aching for him. She wanted to argue, to push, but she knew it would be pointless. Jey’s grief was a fortress, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t break through.

“Okay,” she said softly, conceding. “I’ll be back tomorrow. I’ll bring some more stuff, alright?”

Jey nodded, his attention still focused on Jeyson. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

Trinity stood, lingering for a moment as she looked at her brother-in-law. He was a shell of the man she once knew, drowning in a pain she couldn’t reach.

“Jey…” she began, but the words caught in her throat. What could she say that hadn’t already been said?

Instead, she reached out, squeezing his shoulder gently before turning and leaving the room.

As Trinity made her way back downstairs, she felt an overwhelming sense of helplessness. No matter how much she did, how often she came by, or how hard she tried, nothing seemed to ease Jey’s pain.

She locked the front door behind her, pausing for a moment on the porch. The cool evening air stung her cheeks, but she welcomed it. Glancing back at the house, she whispered a silent prayer—for Jey, for Jeyson, and for Rhea, wherever she was.

Trinity didn’t know how to fix this, but she wasn’t going to stop trying.

5:30 PM

At around 5:30, Trinity finally convinced Jon to check on Jey. She had been trying all afternoon, insisting that Jey needed someone to make sure he was okay, even if he wouldn’t ask for it. Jon, reluctant but knowing she was right, bundled up and headed out, leaving Trinity at home with the twins and her quiet worries about Jey’s well-being.

Jon entered his assigned gate cold and the screeching gates opened, Jon ulled into Jey’s driveway and climbed out, noting the eerie stillness of the house. He let himself in with his spare key, immediately spotting the plate Trinity had left earlier sitting on the kitchen counter. It was empty, the knife and fork neatly placed on top, a faint glimmer of effort in an otherwise chaotic scene.

Jon wandered further into the house, calling his brother’s name. “Jey! You here?” His voice echoed through the silence. No one answered.

Upstairs, Jon found Jeyson peacefully sleeping in his crib. The soft hum of the baby monitor was the only sound in the room. The camera was positioned perfectly, its screen glowing faintly as it captured every move the infant made. Jon adjusted the blanket over his nephew before stepping out and heading back downstairs.

Still no sign of Jey.

Stepping out onto the back porch, Jon scanned the yard, the faint light of dusk making everything look muted and cold. That’s when he noticed the glow coming from the greenhouse at the far end of the yard.

Jey’s shadow moved within, a faint silhouette against the warm, golden light filtering through the glass. Jon pulled his coat tighter around himself and crossed the yard, the frost-covered grass crunching under his boots.

“Jey?” Jon called out as he reached the greenhouse door.

Inside, the scene stopped him in his tracks.

The greenhouse had been transformed into a breathtakingly beautiful space, one that looked like it had been plucked straight from the pages of The Great Gatsby. The air was filled with the rich, mingling scents of fresh blooms—roses, sunflowers, lilies, and, most notably, Rhea’s favorite flower, the Pompon Dahlia. Every surface was covered in vibrant arrangements, from vases and pots to cascading floral displays that hung from the ceiling.

Jey was standing in the middle of it all, his head bowed as he adjusted a bouquet of flowers in a large vase. His movements were slow, deliberate, almost meditative. On a nearby table, the baby monitor screen displayed Jeyson sleeping soundly upstairs.

Jon stepped into the greenhouse, closing the door softly behind him. “Wow,” he said, his voice low with awe. “This… this is amazing, bro. You did all this?”

Jey glanced over his shoulder briefly, acknowledging Jon’s presence before turning back to the flowers. “Had to do something,” he said, his voice hoarse. “She loved this place. Loved the flowers, the quiet… thought maybe if I kept it alive, it’d feel like she was still here.”

Jon swallowed hard, the bittersweet beauty of the scene hitting him like a punch to the chest. “She’d love what you’ve done with it,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

Jey let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “I don’t know, man. Feels like I’m just… treading water. Like I’m here, but I’m not, you know? I take care of Jeyson. I come out here. Then I just sit. Waiting for something to feel normal again, but it doesn’t.”

Jon stepped closer, his boots crunching softly against the gravel floor. He reached out, placing a firm hand on Jey’s shoulder. “You don’t have to do this alone, Jey. You know that, right? We’re all here for you—for you and Jeyson.”

Jey didn’t respond right away. His gaze was fixed on the flowers in front of him, his jaw tight, his shoulders stiff. Finally, he sighed and shook his head. “I appreciate it, but nothing anyone says or does is gonna change how I feel. It’s like this hole inside me that just keeps getting bigger. And I can’t climb out of it.”

Jon’s heart ached at the raw pain in his brother’s voice. “I don’t have all the answers, man. But I know one thing—you’re not alone in this. And you don’t have to carry it all by yourself. Let us help you, even if it’s just by being here.”

Jey finally looked up, his eyes red-rimmed and glassy. “I don’t even know how to start letting anyone in,” he admitted.

“We can find a way..”

The two brothers stood there in the warmth of the greenhouse, surrounded by the vibrant life that Rhea had loved so much. For the first time in a long while, there was a faint glimmer of hope—fragile and fleeting, but there nonetheless. And as the soft hum of the baby monitor filled the silence, Jon silently vowed to be the rock Jey needed, no matter how long it took to pull him through.

The sharp cries of Jeyson pierced through the tension, drawing both brothers’ attention. Jey instantly grabbed the monitor, his protective fatherly instincts kicking in. “I got him,” he muttered, brushing past Jon and heading into the house. Jon followed, his heart heavy as he watched Jey ascend the stairs and enter the nursery.

Inside, Jon leaned against the doorframe, observing as Jey moved with an almost robotic precision. He spoke softly to Jeyson, his voice trembling with emotion. “It’s okay, buddy. Daddy’s here.” Jey prepared a bottle, his hands steady but his eyes distant, lost in a sea of grief. He carefully cradled the the three month old, feeding him with a tenderness that betrayed his broken spirit.

Jon’s gaze swept over the room. The large blown-up picture of Rhea, her bright smile contrasting sharply with the somber energy in the nursery. On the dresser, a smaller photo of her and Jey at the hospital stood as a painful reminder of her absence.

Jon took a deep breath, trying to choose his words carefully. “Jey,” he started, his tone gentle, “how about this? Let Mom and Dad take care of Jeyson for a few days. You and me could go on a trip. Just… clear your head, man.”

Jey shook his head, not even looking up. “I can’t. I have to wait for the police to call. What if there’s news? What if they find her?”

Jon stepped closer, his voice firm but still laced with concern. “I think it’d be better for both of you if you had some time to readjust. You’re drowning here, bro.”

Instead of responding, Jey deflected, his voice tinged with desperation. “Did you know that after birth, newborns can only see in black and white and shades of gray? They can detect movement and shapes but only see about 8 to 12 inches away. That’s, like… the distance from your eyes to theirs when you’re feeding them.”

Jon groaned, running a hand down his face. “Jey, don’t start this again.”

But Jey pressed on, his words coming out in a rush. “By the first month, babies can start to develop color vision. By two or three months, they can follow moving objects, recognize faces, and even reach for things.”

“Jey, stop!” Jon’s voice was sharper this time, cutting through the rambling.

Jey’s hands trembled as he held the bottle. His voice broke, raw and filled with anguish. “He doesn’t get to experience her!” His shout startled Jeyson, who began crying harder, his wails echoing through the room.

Jon stepped forward, trying to take control of the situation. “Give me my nephew,” he said firmly, holding out his hands.

Jey clutched Jeyson tighter, his posture defensive. “No, he’s fine,” Jey insisted, though Jeyson’s cries only grew louder.

“He’s not fine, Jey!” Jon snapped, his frustration boiling over. “I’m trying to help you! Now give me my nephew!”

Reluctantly, Jey handed Jeyson over, his hands shaking. Jon took the baby and began to coax him gently, his voice soft and soothing. Slowly, Jeyson’s cries subsided, and Jon placed him back in the crib, tucking him in securely.

Jon turned to Jey, his face a mix of anger and heartbreak. He grabbed Jey by the arm and pulled him out of the nursery, closing the door behind them. In the hallway, Jon let loose.

“Jey, if you don’t let Mom and Dad step in, I swear to God I will call Rhea’s parents and have them take over. Do you hear me? I’m scared for you! I’m losing my brother! You think you’re the only one hurting here? You think the rest of us don’t feel what happened to Rhea is fucked up?”

Jey stood frozen, his jaw tight, but Jon wasn’t done.

“I’m not saying to go out and get drunk every day, but damn it, Jey, start coming back to us! You’ve got other kids, man! Jeyce told me the other day he’s wrestling now. You know why? He thinks if he wrestles, you’ll care about him again!”

That hit Jey like a punch to the gut, but Jon pressed on.

“And Jaciyah—do you even know what’s going on with him? He has a baby on the way, Jey! Your oldest son is going to be a dad, and he just started the police academy! Do you even realize how much you’ve missed?”

Jey’s face crumbled, his defenses breaking down as Jon’s words sank in. “I didn’t… I didn’t know,” Jey whispered, his voice trembling. Takecia had spoken with him but… did he really listen?

Jon shook his head, his voice softer now but still firm. “That’s because you’ve been too caught up in your grief to see what’s right in front of you. We’re all hurting, Jey, but you don’t have to do this alone. Let us help you. Let us help Jeyson.”

“Leave my house please..”

HAPPY NEW YEAR FROM ME AND MY BOYFRIEND ! 🩷

#jey uso #fanfic #wwe #rhea and jey #rhea ripley #fanfiction #wwe raw #the judgement day #wwe smackdown #rhea ripley and jey uso #main event jey uso #yeet #wwe jhea #jhea #jhea fanfiction

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lefteagleblizzard · 4 months ago

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𝔐𝔦𝔫𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔠𝔱

Mike schmidt x male reader

A request that I received from a friend here on tumblr: “I'm wondering if you would be fine with a possessive Mike chapter? The idea is that the reader gets hit on and then Mike goes all grumpy boyfriend who thinks 'back of he's mine'. Now I don't think the reader would start it or try to flirt back, I just think someone would come up to him out of know were, maybe at a bar”

Tags: Part 8 of this miniseries of Mike Schmidt x male reader. Age-gap (5 years) between you and Mike (reader is 20 years old). Male reader. He/him pronouns used towards the reader. Jealous Mike Schmidt. Fluff. Angst with an happy ending. Allusion to smut.

Words count: 3500

Part 1-Part 2- Part 3-Part 4-Part 5-Part 6-Part 7-Part 9-Part 10-Part 11

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

If you have an idea for another part of this Mike Schmidt x Male Reader series, or even a request for Mike Munroe x Male Reader from Until Dawn, please let me know <3. I love reading other people's opinions and ideas.

It had been exactly one month since you'd moved in with Mike, and tonight was a small celebration. With Abby at a sleepover at one of her friend's houses, you and Mike had the rare opportunity to spend some quality time together. Tonight, it was just about the two of you.

Mike had suggested going to a quiet bar nearby, somewhere casual yet with enough ambiance to make the night feel special. It wasn't the fanciest place in town, but that didn't matter to either of you. The dim lights, warm atmosphere, and low hum of conversation from other patrons set the perfect mood. Mike chose a small table in the corner, away from the busier parts of the bar, the kind of spot where you could focus on each other without the chaos around you.

Mike slid onto the sofa first, making sure you were close beside him as you both settled in. The sofa was indeed small, which Mike quickly pointed out. He shifted in his seat, extending his arm across the backrest behind your head, a casual but deliberate move to pull you in closer.

"Comfy?" he asked, his voice quiet and teasing as he leaned slightly toward you. His arm remained outstretched, his fingers brushing against your shoulder lightly.

“There's plenty of room on the other side of the couch. You don't need to use me as a pillow."

Mike chuckled, his eyes glinting with something softer. "I'm just trying to be comfortable. This couch is too small for both of us."

You couldn't help but laugh softly. "Sure it is, Mike."

But you didn't mind. In fact, you leaned into him, letting his arm rest more comfortably around your shoulders as the proximity between you grew.

With the excuse of the small couch, Mike's hand eventually trailed down to your side, resting lightly on your hip, holding you close without saying much.

The way he shifted his body toward you made it clear that his focus was entirely on you, the busy bar around you fading into the background.

"You look really good tonight," Mike said suddenly, his voice quiet but firm, as his eyes scanned you slowly, appreciatively. His gaze lingered just a second longer than usual, and you could feel a faint heat rising in your cheeks at the intensity of his stare.

You felt your face heat up slightly as you ducked your head, trying to play it cool.

He was dressed simply, wearing his usual dark jacket over a plain t-shirt, looking effortlessly handsome in his quiet, brooding way. His eyes were focused on the menu, studying the ridiculous drink names with a small furrow in his brow.

"Thanks. You too," you replied, trying to hide the fact that your heart had skipped a beat.

He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as if to say you didn't need to return the compliment. "I'm serious," he added, his gaze lingering on you a moment longer. "It's nice seeing you like this. Relaxed"

You smiled at him, appreciating the moment. "Yeah, it feels good. It's been a while since we've had a night like this. Besides, I had to put in the effort. It's not every day I get to drag my grumpy boyfriend out for a night like this."

"Grumpy?" Mike repeated, raising an eyebrow. "I'm not like that."

"Oh, you are," you teased, poking him lightly in the ribs. "Don't pretend you're not."

Mike chuckled softly, the sound low and rough in his throat. "You're imagining things."

"Am I? You were grumbling about traffic on the way here, and I saw you glare at that couple when we walked in."

"They were blocking the door," Mike muttered defensively.

"See?" You laughed, shaking your head.

Mike rolled his eyes, but there was a faint smile tugging at his lips. "I might be like this because I've got a troublemaker for a boyfriend."

You gasped softly, placing a hand over your heart. "Me? A troublemaker? I'm innocent!"

Mike gave you a look that clearly said he didn't believe you, and you couldn't help but laugh. "Uh-huh," he said dryly.

You grinned, leaning in against him slightly to give him a side hug.

"It's been a while since I've gone out like this," he admitted, his lips curving into that rare, small smile you loved seeing.

His expression softened as his arm around your side tightened. "We've both been busy," he admitted, though you could hear the unspoken part of the sentence: You've been patient with me.

As you browsed through the menu, something caught your eye. The bar offered a selection of unique, non-alcoholic drinks with quirky names-exactly the kind of thing that piqued your curiosity.

"Look at these," you said, nudging Mike slightly. "They've got some really cool names. 'Ocean Breeze,' 'Tropical Twilight, and...’Dragon's Breath'? Sounds interesting, right?"

Mike leans in slightly, glancing over the drink description. "Let's try some," he says with a tired but amused smile. "We could work our way through some of these. They're cheap enough and no hangover tomorrow."

You couldn't help but grin at his suggestion. It felt good to unwind like this. Without the heavy weight of your usual responsibilities, it felt like the two of you were able to just be a couple enjoying each other's company. So, you both ordered a few of the more intriguing and exciting drinks, eager to sample their flavors.

It doesn't take long before the server returns with your first round of drinks. One is a vibrant blue with smoke-like vapors rising from it. 'The Dragon's Breath’. The other is a bright orange concoction topped with a skewer of fruit.

Mike reaches for the blue one first, swirling the glass in his hand before taking a sip. His face remains impassive, as if the strange flavors don't faze him at all.

"Try it."

You take the glass from him, watching the vapors curl up around your fingers. When you take a sip, the sharp, sour taste hits you instantly, making you wince and grimace.

When he saw your expression, he let out a rare, quiet laugh, his tired eyes crinkling at the edges. "You look like you just ate a lemon," he teased, his voice deep and slightly raspy.

"It's because I think I did. Ugh... that's intense," you groaned, pushing the glass away, trying not to laugh at your own reaction.

Mike chuckles softly, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. "Not a fan?"

"Not sure how you didn't even flinch," you reply, shaking your head. You take another cautious sip, but the sourness makes you pucker your lips again. Mike laughs, the sound low and tired but full of affection.

"You get used to it," he says with a shrug, though there's a hint of playful teasing in his tone. "Want me to finish it for you?"

"Please do," you say, sliding the glass back toward him. Mike takes it without a word, downing the rest of it like it's nothing.

The next drink was the bright orange one. You took a sip, and the sweet, fruity taste is a welcome relief after the sourness of the first drink. It was much more liquid than the sour one you tried and it quickly consumed as you took a sip of it.

"Oh, this one's good," you say, offering the glass to Mike. "You've got to try it."

There was barely any left in the glass, just a few drops at the bottom.

"Come closer," Mike says, his voice dropping just a bit lower. There's a playful gleam in his eyes that makes your pulse quicken.

Curious, you lean toward him, and in one swift movement, Mike cups the back of your head and pulls you into a kiss. His lips are warm against yours, and his tongue is exploring your mouth, tasting the remnants of the drink you'd just had. The kiss is slow and languid, full of that lazy confidence he always seems to carry.

When he finally pulls back, your heart is racing, and Mike has that small, satisfied smile on his face. "Tastes good," he murmurs, his eyes half-lidded as he watches your reaction.

You flush, half-embarrassed but unable to stop the grin spreading across your face. "You didn't even taste the drink," you say, lightly hitting his chest.

"I tasted enough," Mike replies, clearly pleased with himself.

You can't help but laugh, shaking your head at his antics. "You're impossible."

There's one drink next with a quiet awful color scheme that tastes faintly of mint and chocolate, reminding you of a dessert, and another that's so bitter you both cringe after the first sip. Mike offers to finish it off, just as he did with the sour one, but this time you're determined to get through it, even though it makes you shiver with each sip.

Your eyes squint immediately, lips purse together tightly, forming a thin, strained line. Your nostrils flare slightly, as if they might filter out the bitterness. You winced, eyes darting down at the glass briefly, maybe questioning all of your life choices up to this moment.

Your throat visibly constricts with each gulp. The corners of your eyes crinkle as you fights the instinct to grimace more openly.

"You're stubborn," Mike says, watching you with a faint smile.

"I'm not letting this drink win," you reply, setting the empty glass down.

Your tongue darts out briefly, almost like your trying to wipe away the bitterness.

Your boyfriend watches with a small, lazy grin. It’s a smile that dances in his eyes, both amused and impressed by the spectacle.

“It’s the same face you made when Abby gave us those cookies she made at school.”

You can’t help but chuckle at the memory. “She used salt instead of sugar, poor thing. But at least I finished it in front of her. You gagged immediately at the first bite at your own sister’s baking!”

He laughs, shrugging. “Honest reactions. Besides, she took it as a learning moment. I saved her from making the same mistake twice.”

The last small shot arrived.'Zombie Sunrise,'—‘Minty moonshot,'—'Mango Madness’. These names were wild. It sounded like they're trying a bit too hard but it was at least fun trying to figure out the ingredients.

At one point, as you took a sip from the last drink, Mike's gaze fixed on you. You set the glass down, raising an eyebrow. "What?" you asked, trying to keep your voice light.

Mike didn't answer right away. Instead, he leaned in, his hand sliding from your hip to the back of your neck, gently pulling you closer until your lips were just inches apart.

"I just like looking at you," he murmured, his voice low and rough in that way that always made your heart race.

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours. The kiss started soft, tender even, but quickly deepened as Mike's other hand slid around to your waist, pulling you even closer. The small couch left no room for distance, and it seemed like that was exactly what Mike wanted. His kiss grew more intense, more insistent, as his tongue brushed against yours, exploring your mouth with a hunger that had been simmering all night.

You shifted slightly, turning your body to face him more fully as you responded to his kiss with equal intensity. His hand tangled in your hair as he tilted your head just enough to deepen the angle, his lips moving against yours with a desperate kind of passion that left you breathless.

His grip on you tightened, as though he couldn't bear to let you go.

When he finally pulled back, his breathing was a little heavier, his forehead resting against yours. His eyes, dark and intense, locked onto yours.

"You're dangerous, you know that?" you whispered, your voice breathless from the kiss.

Mike smirked, his lips brushing against yours again, this time softer, gentler. "What’s the name of the one you had? It was good."

You felt a rush of warmth spread through you at his words, and though the moment was intimate, you couldn't help but tease him back. "Yeah, well, it was probably mixed with all the other drinks we've had," you said, grinning.

Mike's hand slid off your neck, and he leaned back, his expression softening into something more content. "Maybe. You want another one of that?" he suggested quietly, a rare playful note in his voice.

You nodded, standing up and beating Mike. He grumbled something under his breath as you pushed on his shoulders to get up and ground him on the seat.

His eyes followed you as you moved through the dimly lit room. You were used to his gaze by now. The way he always seemed to keep an eye on you, not out of possessiveness but out of some deep-rooted need to know you were safe.

Leaning against the bar, you glanced over at the bartender, waiting for him to finish with the previous order. You felt someone sit beside you, closer than anyone other than Mike had the right to do. Glancing sideways, you noticed a man standing next to you just a little too close for comfort. He had a confident grin on his face, the kind that immediately set off alarm bells in your mind, his eyes sweeping over you in a way that made you uncomfortable.

"Hey," the guy said, his voice smooth and casual. "You here alone?"

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. "Uh, no. I'm with someone."

The man's grin didn't falter. If anything, it widened slightly as he leaned a little closer, his shoulder brushing against yours. "Really? I've been watching you for a while, and it didn't look like you were with anyone."

This guy must be terribly drunk. That or he confused you with some other poor person here.

You stiffened at the unwanted attention, glancing back toward Mike, who was still sitting at the table. From this distance, you could see the way his posture had changed, how his relaxed demeanor had shifted into something more rigid. His eyes were locked on you, a tension in his jaw that hadn't been there a few minutes ago.

"I am with someone," you repeated, more firmly this time, hoping the guy would get the hint. "So, if you don't mind..."

But the man didn't seem to care, leaning in a bit more, his grin turning into something smug. "Come on, I'm just trying to be friendly. What's the harm?”

You clenched your jaw, trying to figure out how to defuse the situation without making a scene. The last thing you wanted was for this random guy to start something. You soon felt a familiar presence behind you.

Mike.

He didn't say anything at first, but the way he moved into your space, his hand landing firmly on your lower back, spoke volumes. His body pressed against yours just enough to make it clear who you were with. He wasn't being aggressive -yet- but the tension in his body was unmistakable. He was on edge, and you could feel the protectiveness radiating off of him like heat.

"He's with me," Mike said, his voice low but steady. There was no mistaking the warning in his tone.

The guy blinked, clearly surprised by Mike's sudden appearance. He glanced between the two of you, taking in the way Mike's hand rested on your waist, the hard set of his jaw, the way his eyes were narrowed in a silent threat.

"Oh, hey, man. Just talking," the guy said, trying to sound casual, but there was a nervous edge to his voice now. "Didn't mean anything by it."

Mike's grip on your waist tightened slightly, his fingers pressing into your side as if to silently reassure you that he had everything under control. "He's not interested," Mike stated, his voice steady, though you could hear the restrained anger bubbling just beneath the surface.

The guy held up his hands in mock surrender, backing off with a smirk that made your skin crawl. "Alright, alright. Didn't mean to step on any toes."

With that, he slunk away into the crowd, leaving you and Mike standing at the bar. The tension in Mike's body didn't immediately fade, even after the guy disappeared from view. He stayed close to you, his hand still on your waist. His eyes followed the guy for a moment longer to make absolutely certain that he was gone.

"You okay?" Mike asked quietly, his voice softer now that the idiot was gone. He turned his attention fully to you, his gaze searching your face for any signs of discomfort.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you reassured him. "Thanks for stepping in."

Mike's hand lingered on your waist, his thumb rubbing small, soothing circles into your side. "I didn't like the way he was looking at you."

You smiled softly, placing your hand over his, feeling the tension still humming through his body. "You don't have to worry. I wasn't interested."

He let out a small sigh. "Still... I didn't like it."

It wasn't that he didn't trust you; it was that he cared so deeply, so fiercely, that the idea of anyone else trying to take you away made him uneasy.

"Let's go back to the table," you suggested gently, not wanting him to dwell on it any longer.

He nodded, guiding you back to your seat with his hand still firmly on your waist. When you sat down, he didn't let go, keeping you close to him as if he needed the physical connection to fully calm down.

The rest of the night continued quietly, though Mike's attention never strayed far from you. He wasn't his usual quiet self; instead, he seemed more present, more focused on you than usual. He kept you close, the way his gaze would occasionally flicker to the crowd around you to make sure no one else would try anything.

Later, when the bar started to clear out and you both decided it was time to head home, Mike's hand gripped yours tightly as you walked back to his house. The cool night air seemed to soothe him, though his grip on you was still firm, still reassuring in its own way.

Once you were inside the house, Mike closed the door behind you with a quiet sigh. He leaned against it for a moment. You could see the way the tension in his shoulders finally began to ease.

“Are you sure you're alright?" he asked again, his voice a little softer now that it was just the two of you. "I... I don't like seeing you uncomfortable like that."

You crossed the room to him, reaching out to cup his face in your hands. "I'm fine, Mike. Really. You don't have to worry about guys like that."

He let out a small breath, leaning into your touch as his hands found your waist again.

His gaze softened at your words, his hands tightening slightly on your waist as if to pull you even closer. "Good," he grumbled, his voice low and a little rough with emotion. "Because you're mine."

With that he kissed you, slow and deep, the kind of kiss that made your toes curl and your heart race. His hands slid up your back, pulling you closer as his lips moved against yours with a possessive need that made your skin tingle.

You could feel the tension between you both shift into something else, something more intimate. Mike's grip on you tightened, his body pressing against yours as he guided you toward the bedroom.

You chuckled softly against his lips, but Mike didn't let up, his hands sliding to your waist as he started guiding you toward the bedroom. "Mike," you whispered, still smiling, but he only kissed you harder, his lips chasing yours because he couldn't get enough.

The two of you stumbled into the bedroom, your back hitting the wall as Mike's hands roamed your body, his lips trailing from your mouth to your jaw, then to your neck. He was being uncharacteristically bold tonight.

You tilted your head back, letting him have his way, your fingers tangling in his hair as he kissed you like a man starved.

You were his and nothing was ever going to change that.

Note: If you liked this story please leave a comment, I love reading them <3.

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apocalyptic-byler · 1 year ago

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READ THIS.

Mike Wheeler is so very summer child coded. There, I said it.

#OMG OMG OMG OMG #THIS.#i have so many feelings about this #FIRST OF WHEN YOU SAID ‘the rest of the lines reference how mike sees the beauty in things others dont EXCEPT when it comes to himself.’#MY HEART BROKE INTO A MILLION PIECES #MOSTLY EVERY LYRIC FITS HIM SO WELL #i love how you touched on mikes selflessness and love for his friends and his tendency to bottle up his feelings bc when he tried to express #himself it was always at the wrong time or his feelings werent neccesarily important at the time and things like that so i found it very #nice how you acknowledged that #ive always thought of summer child more of a will song but your analysis shows that it is a mike song too #this is honestly amazing #THANK YOU SOOOOOO MUCH FOR PUTTING THE TIME AND EFFORT INTO MAKING THIS #I REALLY APPRECIATE IT!!!!! <3333333 #SORRY IF THERE ARE ANY GRAMMAR MISTAKES IN THIS DMFKFKKFDMMD

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boom-butterflyeffect · 3 months ago

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Smut or sfw! I personally don't mind but smut is always a fun way to go 🫡

So rough as in just a basic idea, awesome!

UD guys w a goth reader

- I feel like Matt would be intimidated by a goth person, but would have so much respect for someone who not only has the confidence to stray from social norms, but someone who wears outfits and makeup that require so much effort and precision. He feels like a very stereotypical guy, being a jock who's not exactly the best with academics, so I feel like he'd appreciate someone who's a polar opposite and unafraid to be unique. He would adore a goth partner, and despite his reputation as a stereotypical jock, would never let anyone make you think otherwise. People think you're scary? So does he! But it's badass and awesome and he loves it!

- Chris sees someone in platform boots that makes them taller than him, and isn't sure if he's nervous, turned on, or both. He thinks the whole gothic aesthetic is wicked, and could sit there for hours just watching you do your eyeliner, absolutely mesmerised by how perfect it is. I feel like he'd unexpectedly really enjoy goth music. He wouldn't expect to enjoy it, but would be pleasantly surprised when "Wow... that's actually pretty catchy." I see more of a sub! Chris vibe when it comes to a goth partner, I could honestly see him having a thing for Morticia Addams as a teen, scary people just do something to him.

- I think Mike would at first not know how to feel about goth reader, he'd be intimidated by someone who can match his confidence. He's used to being a big shot and having people fall over themselves to get on his good side, and someone who's just the polar opposite to all that, a badass who does their own thing and doesn't care what other people think, he's apprehensive at first, but finds himself more and more intrigued. He'd end up trying to flirt, maybe even getting a bit tongue tied because he's never actually felt like he's had to put effort into getting someone to show interest in him, until you.

- Oh Josh. That man LOVES goths. The guy has had a crush on Tiffany Valentine for as long as he can remember. When he first sees you, it's immediate, he knows he wants to talk to you, know you, just get to experience you. He thinks your style is absolutely killer, and his love for horror movies only aids his attraction to scary people. We all know that Josh knows how to be scary, and I think he'd love someone who can match the energy. It's a major turn on for him. He just wants to see every little detail of you, your makeup, your hair, your outfit, your nails, THEN he wants to have you pressed against the door while you **** 'n ***** and he ***** ** **** ****-

#josh washington #chris hartley #mike munroe #matt taylor #until dawn #my brain can't do detailed smut right now #x reader #mike munroe x reader #chris hartley x reader #matt taylor x reader #josh washington x reader

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miwiheroes · 7 days ago

Text

Dropping Byler Evidence Every (Other) Day Until Season 5

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ Day 22: The Flowers . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Ah yes, I can finally start analysing one of my favourite scenes heehehehe (the airport)

I have decided to split this analysis up into two sections lmaooo, um you can read under the cut down below the first part of the analysis if you want something that is very speculatory, and isn't necessarily evidence, more like something interesting.

First of all, the act of getting your girlfriend flowers is a classic, 'I know how to be a good boyfriend!' act, while still showing that there are problems underneath the surface. In this scene, the point of the flowers is to be a symbol. Otherwise, what would it be? Something to further show that Milkvan is cute and endearing? That doesn't line up with the rest of the airport scene which conveys their problems (all the lies and pretending).

The flowers are in this scene to be a symbol of Mike and El's relationship.

At first this seems like it sheds some positive light on Milkvan because it's obviously a nice gift, and she would appreciate it because they are her favourite colours. However, the things that Mike says in relation to the flowers seem extremely out of place and specific. Now, saying that he 'hand picked' them for her in Hawkins is a nice gesture that a lot of shippers really appreciate, but it is really important to the overall symbolism that he is the one who makes the choice about the colours. (more on that later)

He says some really 'random' stuff:

"I know you also like purple so I got some purples as well so I kind of did a 70/30 split kind of thing"

The 70/30 comment is so specific. The writers really like to put subtle foreshadowing into their dialogue, and being that this scene is at the beginning of the show, i believe it must be talking about how much he puts into the relationship versus how much he's getting out of it. An inequitable relationship is unsatisfying (x, xx), which may show that it's probably either Mike or El putting in the effort while getting nothing less out of it. (Mike puts in the effort to seem normal and functioning while not getting true happiness out of it, El puts in the effort of lying and doing romantic things while not getting an expression of love out of it, which is what she thinks she needs.)

As for him handpicking them in Hawkins.... well....

The same flowers that El, EL, picks up and inspects are the ones that Mike picked out himself in the same town. By the end of the season, their relationship is extremely different than it was at the start, the 70/30 split is no longer a split, it's simply a 0, because the flowers are dead.

So these are 2 instances so far of the characters calling upon flowers for symbolism and.... there is a third one, which is right at the beginning of S4.

See this is why I truly believe that these must be a symbol of Mike and El's relationship. Mike picked spring flowers for El, which are a symbol of their relationship being inequitable, and later on, they are used to symbolise their relationship literally dying (damn). But this here is what shows that El will be fine on her own. Time and time again, Millie and the writers have said/written that El needs to find herself and who she is without the men in her life.

So: "At first I missed [my relationship with Mike], but now I [can find happiness]."

Flowers = Mil*ven. And it's also interesting that yellow flowers symbolise friendship and purple flowers symbolise admiration, and as we know, admiration for her powers is one of the main things that Mike ends up referencing when he admits his 'love' to her.

Now, the yellow flowers being in the bouquet is interesting because, as stated very importantly by Mike himself, he was the one who picked them. Meaning, he would have made the decision, however subconscious, to put 'too many' yellow flowers into the bouquet. And another thing we also know is that yellow is Will's colour.

This colour symbolism is emphasised during the season, when Will wears the colour yellow for the majority of it, and is placed under the yellow light in this scene^

Another funny thing that I noticed is that Mike says:

"I know you like the colour yellow, but now I'm realising that it's too much yellow."

Rewatching this scene makes me think it's kind of odd for him to say that he's just now realising that it's too much yellow. As if he accidentally put too much in, and kind of realises it in that moment like he's saying sorry to her about it?? But then he just takes that realisation and turns it into a 'romantic' thing, acting like he'd intended that the whole time with the '70/30' split.

That means he didn't actually mean to. The writers are trying to convey through symbolism that Mike has been thinking of Will subconsciously the past few months, which is then confirmed by the Rink o Mania scene and the Cool Cool scene. He only regrets the fact that he did it in retrospect. Aka as soon as he sees El.

SO: The flowers are a symbol for Mike and El's relationship, showing that they put in a lot of work into the relationship, but do not get an equal amount out of it, which is unsatisfying. The flowers also are shown to be dead by the end of the season. El says that at first she missed the flowers, but in the end, she's fine without them.

NOW TIME FOR THE STRANGE STUFF

So this is at the end of S1, and if we assume that there are no, throwaway lines in Stranger things, we should be able to also assume that this is meant to foreshadow something. In my opinion, this has to foreshadow S4 and S5.

In this scene, it's clear that the kids (symbolising the audience of stranger things) are talking about something that Mike (symbolising the writers of stranger things) has left out or not explained. This is what happens in S4.

What about the lost knight? -- This refers to Mike, whose DND character is obviously a paladin, but Will draws him and paints him as a knight in shining armour. He is clearly 'lost' because he does not know what to do about his relationships with Will and El at the end of S4. He has just said he loved El, but he still wants to help Will and doesn't really know his feelings until the painting is revealed. Therefore he is lost.

And the proud princess? -- It doesn't take much deducing to know that this has to refer to El, whose arc in S4 is to realise that she is not a monster for having her powers, making her proud of who she is. The audience are worried about her and her fate, because she seems at a crossroads.

And the weird flowers in the cave? -- Obviously, I've already talked about the flowers being a symbol for Mike and El's relationship. The 'weird' part about them is that they are so inconsistent and out of place on a show like ST, because of how conformist it seems in comparison to their nonconformist message. 'In the cave' refers to the fact that the flowers are dead, and now part of the UD, which is the 'cave'.

In This LAST SCENE:

El is stood in front of the others, now with her powers that she is proud of.

Mike is stood with Will, lost in relation to his feelings towards both El and Will, not truly understanding them.

The flowers are rotting. In the 'cave' (UD)

Just something to think about <3

#guys not me literally citing academic sources from my psychology degree. i like relationship theory but fuckin hell #byler #byler nation #byler endgame #mike wheeler #will byers #stranger things #byler evidence #byler proof #miwiheroes daily byler

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ladykailitha · 11 months ago

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The Harrington Pattern Part 10

The first of two chapters today. Next week will finish up this story, so yay!!

Steve has a rough day, Jeff comes to the rescue and deserves hazard pay for dealing with the two idiots (Steve and Eddie). And Nancy and Jonathan cameo.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9

TAG LIST IS CLOSED FOR THIS STORY

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

****

Steve put on his chain shirt and tunic admiring himself in the mirror. Yesterday it was sort of haphazardly thrown on. Today he took careful consideration to make sure everything was in place.

He grabbed his wallet and keys and then picked up the little dice bag. It just hoped it wouldn’t be too big or two small. He stuck the first two items in his right pocket and the bag in his left.

Now all he had to do is get up the courage to give it to him. He picked up Lucas and Max first.

When Lucas came out the house wearing the pirate outfit which had been his backup, Steve had been surprised. Then Lucas explained that he had wanted to match Max.

While Steve could appreciate the sentiment, Saturday was the biggest day. The one where everyone would see it. So to say he was a bit crestfallen when Lucas came out of his house would have been an understatement. If they had wanted to do that, why not yesterday?

But he bit his tongue and let them do what they wanted.

Lucas and Max wolf whistled when Robin came out all decked out in her beautiful blue dress and matching corset. She was still wearing her pirate boots, but mostly because she didn’t want dirt on the hem of her new dress.

She did a cute little spin and then bowed at their applause.

It was only when they were in the car that Steve realized that now they looked like a couple. And on the day he was supposed to be confessing to Eddie.

He knew Eddie was aware of Robin proclivities toward her own sex and that Robin was only wearing to look pretty at the jousting tournament, but that feeling gnawed in his chest that everyone else would think Robin and he was a couple.

Well not the Party.

And it did it really matter what strangers thought?

More than Steve would ever admit out loud.

****

They arrived to see only Gareth and Brian waiting for them.

“They wanted us to rely their apologies,” Brian said grandly. “But they fucked up the schedules again.”

“What schedules?” Dustin finally snapped. “No one has told us anything.” He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at them.

Gareth tapped the side of his nose. “That’s because it’s a surprise. But let’s just say that the people running the Ren Fair are trying to have two events at the same time and in the same place.”

“That’s lame,” Mike hissed. “I hate stupid adults.”

Gareth wrapped his arm around him. “No truer words have ever been uttered.”

Steve then got to watch as all the kids paired off and the older teens wander off in directions Steve wasn’t interested in going. Even Robin had abandoned him to take Max and El to see the ax throwers.

He didn’t have anything he had wanted to do until just before lunch so he went to Damsel in This Dress. He couldn’t wait to show off his little pouch for her to see if it was something that would sell.

But when he got there, the place was slammed. Steve could even see a large, burly man with a long thick black beard with a single white stripe on the left side of his chin was scampering around trying to take people’s money while Katie answered questions.

Steve took out the pouch he had made for Eddie and then looked up at the tangle of people in front of him. He would have to come back later. But he knew when she would be the least busy, and Steve wanted to go to the joust, too.

He let out a shuddering breath and turned around. He figured he could kill sometime wandering around the marketplace and browse.

He still had some money leftover and it was the last day. Maybe he should buy something for himself. He spent so much time and effort and money on everyone else he had forgotten to get something for himself.

But now, everything had been picked through. He still had his little dagger he thought sadly. Maybe he would come back after the joust when the crowds had thinned a bit.

The last lunch was a horrid affair with everyone fighting over the food, trying to get someone to try the haggis. Finally Steve just picked it up and threw it away.

Five bucks down the drain because these kids were assholes.

He still hadn’t seen Eddie.

Steve let out a pained sigh and went to go grab the pouch to rub it between his fingers for comfort when he realized it was gone.

“Shit!” he swore.

“What is it?” Will asked, the first zero in on Steve’s obvious distress.

“I had a small black pouch I–” he stopped. He didn’t want to tell them he had made it for Eddie. “I bought earlier,” he finished lamely. “And it’s not in my pocket.”

All the kids stood up and started looking around.

“Where did you last have it?” Robin asked, rubbing Steve’s arm soothingly.

“The dresses place,” he muttered. He couldn’t remember the name just then.

“I didn’t see that they were selling that sort of thing there,” Lucas said. “Why did you have it out?”

“I was going to show the owner, Katie,” Steve groused. “She liked my tunic yesterday and wanted me to give her stuff for her to sell for me and I was going to show the pouch to see if that was something she might want from me.”

He picked at the sleeve of his white undershirt. The cuff had the Harrington Pattern and his lip began to wobble at the sight of it. He wanted to take his seam ripper to it and just tear it all it out. He was too stupid to hold onto such a simple thing as pouch, he didn’t deserve to sell his pieces.

“We don’t have time to go look for it now,” Max said gently. “We’ll all head over there after the joust.”

Steve nodded and allowed Robin to lead him to the arena where the jousting would be held.

He was trudging up the stairs to bench seating when he heard a voice call out behind him.

“Steve!��

He turned around and saw Jeff waving something in the air. Hope lit a small fire in his chest. It couldn’t be.

He went thundering down the steps.

“Katie said you left this at her shop,” Jeff said a little breathless.

Steve gently took the pouch from him. “Thank you so much. I thought I had dropped it somewhere.”

Jeff grinned. “It’s for Eddie, isn’t it?”

He ducked his head and nodded.

“How do I thank you?” he breathed, his eyes welling up with tears.

“Just be sure to root for the black knight,” Jeff said with a wink.

“I will I promise.”

He turned around and searched the stands to see where they had all gone and to his surprise Jonathan and Nancy were waving at him sandwiched between a grinning Will and a pleased Mike.

Steve’s day was starting to look up. He sat down in the empty spot next to Robin at the end of the bench.

He showed her the pouch.

“Yay!” she squealed, throwing her arms around him. “I’m so glad you found it.”

Steve leaned forward and told them. “Jeff said to root for the black knight.”

Dustin leaned over too. “Aren’t black knights the bad guys?”

“Nope!” Steve said with a grin. “The black just means that he isn’t loyal to a specific lord. He’s a traveling mercenary looking for work in the only profession he knows. War.”

Everyone nodded.

Steve started explaining the history of the sport and what the different points were and how to win. Even what they won.

They were all hanging off his every word.

Steve felt a tap on his shoulder and he looked up. Callahan waved at him shyly.

“This is Sheila, my girlfriend,” he said. “She had a question about the joust.”

Next to the police officer was a pretty brunette in her early thirties. She wore bright red lipstick and was blushing.

She swatted at Callahan’s arm. “He doesn’t want to hear my dumb question.”

Steve grinned up her. “I’m happy to talk anyone’s ear off. Wha’cha got?”

She asked about if the lances were sharp and Steve explained that they weren’t. They even had wide tips to make the shock of the hit go over a wider area so the lancers didn’t get hurt.

****

In the cover of the stable where Eddie was helping Jeff, Jeff turned to him.

“That boy has got it bad for you,” he said pushing Eddie’s shoulder playfully.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I’ve heard that one before.” He straightened up and popped his back. “You remember Louis?”

Jeff winced. He did in fact remember Louis. “Me and Bri still maintain he had a crush on you, he just wasn’t out yet and freaked on you.”

“Well,” Eddie huffed. “Steve ain’t out either, so I’m not touching that...” he made motions with his hands, “all that mess with a ten and a half foot pole, man.”

Jeff rolled eyes. “Look, I’m not saying I know for sure, but according to Gareth, who is the densest motherfucker on God’s green earth, said Steve was really sad when we weren’t there this morning.”

Eddie picked a pimple on his jaw nervously and Jeff swatted his hand away.

“I don’t want to ruin my friendship with Steve,” Eddie murmured. “If it goes badly I’m going to lose some of the kids in the divorce. Dustin and Red are the two biggest ones. They like me, but they love Steve.”

Jeff had to concede that one. “So make sure it doesn’t go south. Woo the bastard. You know how. And don’t give that bullshit about it being ‘only’ pretend at DND because I’ve seen you turn on the charm to get cheaper product from Reefer Rick or to let Gareth who isn’t even close to being twenty-one to perform at a bar.”

Eddie blushed. “Yeah, all right. You win.”

Jeff threw his arm around him and kissed his cheek. “Yes!”

Eddie pushed him off him. “Go on, your squire awaits!”

Jeff laughed but wandered off to finish getting ready.

Eddie shook his head fondly. But Jeff had a point. He couldn't wallow forever.

He had a Harrington to woo.

****

Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

And lo! There is the wild Callahan everyone expected to spot when he came to Steve's door all the way back in chapter 3.

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @carlyv @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @thespaceantwhowrites @paintgonewrong @mogami13 @beelze-the-bubkiss @croatoan-like-its-hot @retro-vagabond @sani-86 @pansexuality-activated @y4r3luv @dauntlessdiva @vampire-eddie-brain-rot @lololol-1234 @nightmareglitter CLOSED

#stranger things #my writing #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #steve is a history nerd

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