“𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀’𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆”
hello everyone, & welcome to my blog! i’m fairly new to writing, but I'm really excited to start sharing my stories with you! Thank you for stopping by, I truly appreciate it!

oozey mess
Claire Keane
macklin celebrini has autism
YOU ARE THE REASON
Jules of Nature

#extradirty

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Origami Around

No title available

No title available

Janaina Medeiros
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
cherry valley forever

ellievsbear

tannertan36
almost home
will byers stan first human second
🪼

★

shark vs the universe
seen from Russia

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from Canada
seen from Germany

seen from France
seen from France

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from United States

seen from T1
seen from Italy
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
@aestheticadelica
“𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀’𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆”
hello everyone, & welcome to my blog! i’m fairly new to writing, but I'm really excited to start sharing my stories with you! Thank you for stopping by, I truly appreciate it!
✐ᝰ .⋆♱, ᴅᴇᴠᴇʟᴏᴘᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʀᴋ !
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ(ꜱ): ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ᴄᴜꜱꜱɪɴɢ, ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴀ ꜱᴇx.
ʙᴏʙʙʏ ꜰʀᴀɴᴋʟɪɴ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ !
the apartment was completely quiet except for the low, steady hum of the refrigerator and the distant, muffled sound of city traffic outside the window. it was just a normal evening, a regular world, which made the small digital camcorder sitting on the coffee table feel so much louder than it actually was.
bobby was sitting on the edge of the sofa, a glass of amber liquid held loosely in one hand and the camera resting in the other. he was adjusting the settings, his thick shoulders relaxed, but his dark, heavy eyes were fixed entirely on you as you walked into the living room wearing nothing but one of his oversized shirts.
you took one look at the camera and paused, a sudden, hot flush creeping up your neck. "you really want to do this, bobby?" you asked, crossing your arms over your chest, suddenly feeling incredibly exposed under his gaze.
he set his glass down on the side table, never breaking eye contact, and patted the spot right on his lap. "come here," he said. his voice was low, deep, and raspy, carrying that thick, grounding weight that always made your knees feel completely weak.
you swallowed hard and walked over, straddling his thighs. your bare skin instantly absorbed the immense, radiating heat of his body. bobby didn't hesitate; his large, calloused hands slid tightly around your waist, anchoring you to him. he lifted the camera with one hand, angling the lens so the flip out screen showed both of your faces.
"i want a record of us like this," bobby murmured, his lips brushing against your jawline, sending an involuntary shiver straight down your spine. "no distractions, no work. just you and me behind closed doors. tomorrow i have a double shift, and i want something in my pocket that reminds me of exactly how beautiful you look when you are mine."
the absolute, raw honesty in his dark eyes made your chest tighten, your breath catching in your throat. he set the camera down on the coffee table, propping it up carefully on a couple of books so it caught the entire sofa in a perfect, clear frame. he pressed the record button, and the little red light began to blink.
bobby turned all his attention back to you, his gaze dropping to your lips before locking back onto your eyes. he reached up, his rough thumb slowly tracing your bottom lip, forcing it to part slightly before he leaned in and kissed you. it was a deep, completely possessive kiss. his tongue slid against yours with a heavy, deliberate rhythm that completely consumed you, making you forget all about the little glass lens watching from the table.
he let out a low groan into your mouth, his hands sliding up under the hem of your shirt to find bare skin. his palms were rough and warm, gripping your ribs with just enough pressure to make you gasp against his lips, a sharp contrast to the intense heat pooling in your lower stomach.
bobby pulled the shirt over your head and tossed it onto the floor, his eyes darkening to a dangerous shade as he looked down at your bare chest. "you are so fucking perfect," he whispered, his voice thick and deep, making sure every syllable was clear on the recording.
he shifted, guiding you down onto the soft cushions of the sofa while he hovered directly over you. he unbuttoned his jeans with steady, practiced hands, kicking them off along with his underwear until he was completely bare and pressing against you. his thigh parted your legs, pushing high up between your thighs, right against your aching center.
"look at the camera for a second, baby," bobby whispered, his breath hot against your neck as he began to trail sharp, biting kisses down your jaw to your collarbone. "tell it what you want."
"bobby, please," you gasped, your fingers tangling desperately in his dark hair as the friction of his heavy leg against your slick skin drove you completely crazy. you couldn't even look at the lens; your face was entirely flushed, your eyes half lidded with pure arousal.
he chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that vibrated right against your chest. "look at it," he commanded softly, his hand sliding down between your legs. he found you completely ready for him, dripping and slick. he slipped two fingers deep inside you on a sudden, heavy stroke, making you arch your back and let out a loud, broken cry.
bobby watched your reaction on the small camera screen for a split second, a proud, deeply satisfied smirk playing on his lips, before he focused entirely back on your face. his thumb began to work your clit in a brutal, perfect rhythm, matching the steady stretch of his fingers inside you until your hips were rolling against his hand helplessly.
"bobby, i need you, please," you pleaded, tears of pure ecstasy pricking the corners of your eyes.
"i know," he murmured, his voice incredibly gentle but his grip unyielding. "i got you."
he pulled his fingers out, making you whine in immediate protest, but he only did it to align himself. he guided his length to your opening and pushed inside you in one deep, slow, unhurried stroke that filled you to the absolute limit. you let out a breathless, choked sob, burying your hot face in his neck as his chest heaved against yours.
bobby didn't rush. he kept his movements deliberate and incredibly heavy, each deep thrust driving you deeper into the cushions of the sofa. "look at me," he commanded softly, his fingers catching your chin and forcing your face up. "open your eyes. let me see you."
you looked up, your vision blurry. bobby was staring down at you with so much fierce affection and raw, unfiltered lust it made your breath completely catch. he accelerated the pace, his thrusts becoming harder, faster, and more urgent. the camera recorded every single sound; the loud, wet slap of skin, your desperate, ragged gasps, and every quiet, protective declaration of love he whispered directly into your ear.
the pleasure coiled so tight inside you that you couldn't hold it back anymore. bobby found the perfect, deepest angle, driving into you over and over until you completely shattered. your walls clamped down around him in tight, violent ripples as you cried out his name, your voice echoing loudly in the quiet apartment.
hearing your climax pushed bobby right over the edge. he let out a deep, guttural groan, burying his face in the crook of your shoulder as he pushed deep inside you one last time. his entire, heavy frame shook against yours as his own release hit him, filling you completely.
he collapsed against you, holding you tightly against his chest, his heart hammering wildly against your ribs as your breathing gradually slowed down. after a few minutes of quiet, heavy breathing, bobby reached over the edge of the sofa and grabbed the camera, bringing it close to the two of you.
he looked at the screen, watching the playback of your flushed, sweat sheened faces and tangled limbs, then looked down at you with a warm, incredibly satisfied smile.
"perfect," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "turn that off for me, baby."
✐ᝰ ᴅᴀᴛɪɴɢ ʙᴏʙʙʏ ꜰʀᴀɴᴋʟɪɴ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴɴᴏɴꜱ
dating bobby franklin… bobby is the type to show affection through actions more than words. he'll fix something for you, carry your backpack, or drive you somewhere before he outright says how much he cares.
dating bobby franklin… he constantly records little moments on his camcorder. random footage of you laughing, eating french fries, or making faces at the camera. years later he'd probably have boxes full of tapes labeled in messy handwriting.
dating bobby franklin… if you complain about being cold, his jacket is immediately around your shoulders before you even finish your sentence.
dating bobby franklin… he likes teasing, but never in a mean way. mostly stupid jokes, fake dramatic reactions, and trying to make you laugh when you're annoyed.
dating bobby franklin… he's very much a "come with me" boyfriend. running errands, picking up camera equipment, browsing record stores, grabbing burgers after work. he just likes having you around.
because it's the mid-90s, he leaves little notes for you. folded pieces of paper tucked into your locker, jacket pocket, or car dashboard.
he makes mixtapes. not because he's some smooth romantic genius, but because he spent three hours recording songs off the radio and accidentally talked over half of them.
dating bobby franklin… if you borrow one of his hoodies, you're never giving it back. he complains about it, but secretly likes seeing you wear it.
dating bobby franklin… he's naturally curious, so he asks a million questions about your interests. even if he doesn't understand something, he genuinely wants to hear you talk about it.
dating bobby franklin… horror movies become a regular date night thing. he'll act brave right up until the scary part happens.
dating bobby franklin… when he's excited about something, he talks with his hands and gets carried away. you'd end up listening to twenty-minute explanations about cameras or some weird thing he found.
dating bobby franklin… he isn't the jealous type, but he can get protective. if somebody is making you uncomfortable, he's immediately stepping closer and checking if you're okay.
dating bobby franklin… he absolutely loves seeing candid photos of you. blurry, badly lit, completely random pictures. those are his favorites.
dating bobby franklin… after a bad day, he'd probably just sit beside you in comfortable silence. no grand speeches, no perfect advice. just being there.
dating bobby franklin… his idea of a perfect date is honestly pretty simple: driving around at night, stopping for food, listening to music, and talking about whatever comes to mind.
if he says "i'll be there in five minutes," expect him in fifteen.
dating bobby franklin… whenever he laughs really hard, he tries to keep talking and completely loses his train of thought.
dating bobby franklin… he'd never admit it, but he'd keep little things you gave him. movie tickets, notes, polaroids, anything that reminds him of you.
hello everyone ! i just wanted to say thank you so much for all the love on my most recent post ! it truly means the world to me and i appreciate every single one of you ! if anyone has any requests, feel free to send them my way ! i'd love to hear your ideas 🥹
love, nic ♡
✐ᝰ ᴅᴀᴛɪɴɢ ʙᴏʙʙʏ ꜰʀᴀɴᴋʟɪɴ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴɴᴏɴꜱ
dating bobby franklin… bobby is the type to show affection through actions more than words. he'll fix something for you, carry your backpack, or drive you somewhere before he outright says how much he cares.
dating bobby franklin… he constantly records little moments on his camcorder. random footage of you laughing, eating french fries, or making faces at the camera. years later he'd probably have boxes full of tapes labeled in messy handwriting.
dating bobby franklin… if you complain about being cold, his jacket is immediately around your shoulders before you even finish your sentence.
dating bobby franklin… he likes teasing, but never in a mean way. mostly stupid jokes, fake dramatic reactions, and trying to make you laugh when you're annoyed.
dating bobby franklin… he's very much a "come with me" boyfriend. running errands, picking up camera equipment, browsing record stores, grabbing burgers after work. he just likes having you around.
because it's the mid-90s, he leaves little notes for you. folded pieces of paper tucked into your locker, jacket pocket, or car dashboard.
he makes mixtapes. not because he's some smooth romantic genius, but because he spent three hours recording songs off the radio and accidentally talked over half of them.
dating bobby franklin… if you borrow one of his hoodies, you're never giving it back. he complains about it, but secretly likes seeing you wear it.
dating bobby franklin… he's naturally curious, so he asks a million questions about your interests. even if he doesn't understand something, he genuinely wants to hear you talk about it.
dating bobby franklin… horror movies become a regular date night thing. he'll act brave right up until the scary part happens.
dating bobby franklin… when he's excited about something, he talks with his hands and gets carried away. you'd end up listening to twenty-minute explanations about cameras or some weird thing he found.
dating bobby franklin… he isn't the jealous type, but he can get protective. if somebody is making you uncomfortable, he's immediately stepping closer and checking if you're okay.
dating bobby franklin… he absolutely loves seeing candid photos of you. blurry, badly lit, completely random pictures. those are his favorites.
dating bobby franklin… after a bad day, he'd probably just sit beside you in comfortable silence. no grand speeches, no perfect advice. just being there.
dating bobby franklin… his idea of a perfect date is honestly pretty simple: driving around at night, stopping for food, listening to music, and talking about whatever comes to mind.
if he says "i'll be there in five minutes," expect him in fifteen.
dating bobby franklin… whenever he laughs really hard, he tries to keep talking and completely loses his train of thought.
dating bobby franklin… he'd never admit it, but he'd keep little things you gave him. movie tickets, notes, polaroids, anything that reminds him of you.
There is nothing like getting off a shift and seeing new Mike x reader in the tags
✐ᝰ ༝༚༝༚, ʙʟᴀᴍᴇ ɪᴛ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴀɪɴ !
ᴍɪᴋᴇ ᴡʜᴇᴇʟᴇʀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ !
it starts so lightly you almost miss it, just a thin mist at first, the kind that hangs in the air more than it falls, settling on your skin without asking. the pavement darkens in patches, little freckles of rain spreading out beneath your tires as you ride.
mike is a few feet ahead like usual, but not really. he never actually leaves you. every couple seconds he glances back, quick and automatic, like checking on you is something he does without thinking anymore. you speed up just enough to fall into place beside him.
“im right here,” you say
he lets out a small breath through his nose, almost a laugh, like he knew you were but needed to see it anyway.
“yeah, okay”
the rain picks up slowly, steady enough now that you can hear it. a soft hiss against the road, against the trees, against your jacket. it beads along your handlebars, gathers at your fingertips, you wipe your face with your sleeve and it does nothing.
mike notices that too
“hey,” he says, easing off his pedals. he stops a little awkwardly, one foot hitting the ground harder than he meant it to. you hear the faint scrape of rubber on wet pavement.
“wait a second”
you roll to a stop beside him
“what?”
he leans forward a little, squinting through rain specked glasses.
“are you okay?”
“im fine!” you say, pushing damp hair back from your face. it falls right back where it was.
“your hands are slipping,” he says, nodding toward your handlebars.
you glance down, then back up at him
“i’m not gonna crash”
he shifts his weight, not convinced
“yeah but you could…”
you laugh, quiet but real
“you worry too much!”
he shrugs like he is about to argue, then doesnt. his shoulders relax just a little, rain dripping from the edge of his hair, from his chin. his shirt is already starting to cling to him, darker in patches, for a second neither of you moves.
the world feels smaller in the rain. like it is just this street, this moment, the sound of water filling up all the empty space.
then something changes in his expression
it is quick, but you catch it. that little spark he gets when an idea hits him before he has time to overthink it.
“cmon,” he says
and then he is gone again, pushing off fast, tires cutting through a shallow puddle and sending water fanning out behind him.
you blink once, then take off after him.
“mike!” you call, half laughing already
he doesn’t turn around this time
“catch up!”
the rain comes down harder now, no hesitation left in it. it soaks through everything, your sleeves heavy, your jeans sticking, your hair completely useless at keeping anything dry.
but it doesn’t matter
your tires hum against the pavement, faster and louder, and when you pull up beside him again you are both breathing a little harder, grinning like you did something you were not supposed to.
he looks at you and just starts laughing
“you look ridiculous!” he says
you push his shoulder lightly as you ride.
“look at yourself!”
“im serious,” he says, still smiling, still a little out of breath.
“youve got rain all over your face!”
you stare at him
“what does that even mean?”
“i dont know,” he admits, laughing again. his voice cracks a little on the last word and he clears his throat like he hopes you did not notice.
but you do, you notice a lot of things.
the way he keeps drifting just a little closer when he rides next to you, like there is some invisible line he does not want to cross but also doesn’t want to move away from the way his knee almost bumps yours and then doesnt, like he caught himself at the last second.
the way he looks at you longer than he means to, then looks away like he got caught doing something. the rain softens the edges of everything, but it makes those small things sharper somehow. you both slow down without really deciding to, just enough that the moment stretches.
“you cold?” he asks after a second.
his voice is quieter now, like the question matters more than everything else he said before.
“a little,” you admit.
he nods, like he expected that, like he has been thinking about it for longer than you realized. then he reaches over, it’s not smooth at all. he hesitates halfway there, like he is giving himself time to back out, but he does not. his fingers catch lightly on your sleeve, just enough to tug.
“cmon,” he says, softer now.
“my house is closer”
you look at him, at the way he is suddenly not quite meeting your eyes anymore.
“we can dry off or something,” he adds, like he had to say something else to make it normal.
“or something,” you repeat
he shrugs, a little too quick.
“my mom will probably make hot chocolate”
there is something about the way he says it that makes your chest feel warm despite the rain; like he is not just offering a place to get dry, like he is offering you to stay.
you nod.
“okay”
he exhales, barely noticeable, but it is there. relief, quiet and real.
“okay, yeah,” he says, almost to himself
he gets back on his bike, but this time he does not pull ahead, he stays right next to you,
close enough that your arms brush every now and then, accidental but not really. the rain keeps falling, steady and endless, but it feels different now, warmer somehow
when you ride like that, side by side, matching pace without trying, it feels like something you could get used to,
something you might not want to end.
✐ᝰ ᴅᴀᴛɪɴɢ ᴍɪᴋᴇ ᴡʜᴇᴇʟᴇʀ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴɴᴏɴꜱ
dating mike wheeler… he’d memorize your house phone number and still double check it every time he dials, just in case. the rotary clicks feel too loud when he’s nervous. if your parent answers, his whole tone changes into something overly polite and careful, and he stands there twisting the cord around his fingers while he waits for you.
phone calls would consist of; rambling about campaigns, school, or random thoughts that don’t really go anywhere. he just likes hearing you react. there are long pauses too, but they’re not empty, just quiet and a little shy.
dating mike wheeler… he’d actually have to plan when he sees you. like telling you at school, “meet me after last period by the front steps,” and then thinking about it all day. he’s the kind of boy who waits, like he’ll be standing by the front steps or his bike, hands in his pockets, shifting his weight, and the second he sees you he straightens up without even realizing it.
dating mike wheeler… bike rides are a big thing. him pedaling beside you, occasionally glancing over to make sure you’re okay, slowing down if you fall behind. sometimes he rides slightly ahead just so he can turn back and look at you again without it being obvious.
dating mike wheeler… his basement becomes the main place you hang out. at first you’re sitting on opposite ends of the couch, both kind of aware of the space between you. over time, it closes naturally. shoulders brushing, knees touching, neither of you moving away because it feels too important to interrupt.
he’d make you mixtapes, and he’d take it seriously. sitting by the radio waiting for specific songs, hovering over the record button, getting frustrated if the dj talks too much. he’d write the tracklist by hand, maybe crossing things out if he overthinks whether a song is “too obvious”.
dating mike wheeler… notes at school would be constant. folded up small, passed quickly between classes. stuff like “are you coming over later?” or “you looked really nice today” or even just dumb jokes with stupid drawings from his imagination. he keeps yours too, tucked into a notebook or a drawer.
dating mike wheeler… he’s awkward with physical affection at first because in his world, it’s a big deal. the first time he reaches for your hand, he hesitates for a second too long, then just does it quickly like ripping off a bandaid. after that, he doesn’t let go easily.
when you sit together during movies, especially with the group, he’s hyper aware of you. like he’s watching the screen but also noticing every small movement you make. if your arm brushes his, he goes quiet for a second but doesn’t pull away.
dating mike wheeler… introducing you to the group matters more to him than he admits. he wants them to like you because they’re his best buddies. once they do, he relaxes a lot, and you can tell he’s proud just having you there.
dating mike wheeler… he’d walk or bike you home whenever possible, even if it’s out of his way. there’s no quick goodbye either. it’s lingering on the sidewalk, both of you kind of stalling. he waits until you’re inside, watching for the light to turn on before he leaves.
dating mike wheeler… if something’s wrong, you can’t just fix it instantly. if you argue, there might be a day or two of distance, and it actually affects him. he replays everything in his head, thinking about what he said wrong. when he apologizes, it’s in person or over the phone, voice quieter than usual, and it feels real because he had time to think.
dating mike wheeler… when you’re upset, he shows up. literally. knocking on your door or asking to see you at school, because being there matters more than trying to say the perfect thing. he’ll sit next to you, not forcing conversation, just staying until you feel a little better.
dating mike wheeler… jealousy is subtle. if he sees someone else getting close to you, he doesn’t start anything, but he gets quieter, a little more distant, like he’s thinking too much. he needs reassurance, not confrontation.
dating mike wheeler… your first kiss would take a long time to happen, but that’s because he builds it up in his head. when it finally does, it’s soft, slightly awkward, and over way too fast, but it sticks with him. like something he replays over and over when he’s alone.
dating mike wheeler… pictures of you are rare, which makes them important. maybe a polaroid he keeps somewhere private, or a photo from a group hangout that he doesn’t let anyone throw away.
dating mike wheeler… he’d compliment you in small, honest ways instead of big speeches. “you look nice today” or “i like being with you” said a little awkwardly but meaning everything.
hello everyone ! this is my first post returning ! i’m super excited to write again! i will be taking requests ! i am still fairly new to writing on tumblr so i apologize for any mishaps. i noticed the stranger things tumblr side is dying down but dont fret i’m here to revive it! thank you for the standby !
✐ᝰ ᴅᴀᴛɪɴɢ ᴍɪᴋᴇ ᴡʜᴇᴇʟᴇʀ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴɴᴏɴꜱ
dating mike wheeler… he’d memorize your house phone number and still double check it every time he dials, just in case. the rotary clicks feel too loud when he’s nervous. if your parent answers, his whole tone changes into something overly polite and careful, and he stands there twisting the cord around his fingers while he waits for you.
phone calls would consist of; rambling about campaigns, school, or random thoughts that don’t really go anywhere. he just likes hearing you react. there are long pauses too, but they’re not empty, just quiet and a little shy.
dating mike wheeler… he’d actually have to plan when he sees you. like telling you at school, “meet me after last period by the front steps,” and then thinking about it all day. he’s the kind of boy who waits, like he’ll be standing by the front steps or his bike, hands in his pockets, shifting his weight, and the second he sees you he straightens up without even realizing it.
dating mike wheeler… bike rides are a big thing. him pedaling beside you, occasionally glancing over to make sure you’re okay, slowing down if you fall behind. sometimes he rides slightly ahead just so he can turn back and look at you again without it being obvious.
dating mike wheeler… his basement becomes the main place you hang out. at first you’re sitting on opposite ends of the couch, both kind of aware of the space between you. over time, it closes naturally. shoulders brushing, knees touching, neither of you moving away because it feels too important to interrupt.
he’d make you mixtapes, and he’d take it seriously. sitting by the radio waiting for specific songs, hovering over the record button, getting frustrated if the dj talks too much. he’d write the tracklist by hand, maybe crossing things out if he overthinks whether a song is “too obvious”.
dating mike wheeler… notes at school would be constant. folded up small, passed quickly between classes. stuff like “are you coming over later?” or “you looked really nice today” or even just dumb jokes with stupid drawings from his imagination. he keeps yours too, tucked into a notebook or a drawer.
dating mike wheeler… he’s awkward with physical affection at first because in his world, it’s a big deal. the first time he reaches for your hand, he hesitates for a second too long, then just does it quickly like ripping off a bandaid. after that, he doesn’t let go easily.
when you sit together during movies, especially with the group, he’s hyper aware of you. like he’s watching the screen but also noticing every small movement you make. if your arm brushes his, he goes quiet for a second but doesn’t pull away.
dating mike wheeler… introducing you to the group matters more to him than he admits. he wants them to like you because they’re his best buddies. once they do, he relaxes a lot, and you can tell he’s proud just having you there.
dating mike wheeler… he’d walk or bike you home whenever possible, even if it’s out of his way. there’s no quick goodbye either. it’s lingering on the sidewalk, both of you kind of stalling. he waits until you’re inside, watching for the light to turn on before he leaves.
dating mike wheeler… if something’s wrong, you can’t just fix it instantly. if you argue, there might be a day or two of distance, and it actually affects him. he replays everything in his head, thinking about what he said wrong. when he apologizes, it’s in person or over the phone, voice quieter than usual, and it feels real because he had time to think.
dating mike wheeler… when you’re upset, he shows up. literally. knocking on your door or asking to see you at school, because being there matters more than trying to say the perfect thing. he’ll sit next to you, not forcing conversation, just staying until you feel a little better.
dating mike wheeler… jealousy is subtle. if he sees someone else getting close to you, he doesn’t start anything, but he gets quieter, a little more distant, like he’s thinking too much. he needs reassurance, not confrontation.
dating mike wheeler… your first kiss would take a long time to happen, but that’s because he builds it up in his head. when it finally does, it’s soft, slightly awkward, and over way too fast, but it sticks with him. like something he replays over and over when he’s alone.
dating mike wheeler… pictures of you are rare, which makes them important. maybe a polaroid he keeps somewhere private, or a photo from a group hangout that he doesn’t let anyone throw away.
dating mike wheeler… he’d compliment you in small, honest ways instead of big speeches. “you look nice today” or “i like being with you” said a little awkwardly but meaning everything.