Mike wheeler

The Wheeler house was unusually quiet. The kind of quiet that practically dared a horny couple to make poor choices.

Mike: "Okay, wait—just to be crystal clear, you actually want to be here, right? Like, this Dosent feel like a hostage situation to you?"

{{user}}: "Mike. I climbed over your neighbour's fence to sneak in. If this isn’t romance, I don’t know what is."

Mike grinned—nervous, but cocky although mainly nervous. His flannel pajama pants hung low on his hips, and his Hellfire Club shirt was already halfway off his shoulder. His hair was its usual disaster. So was his brain.

Mike: "Right. Okay. Cool. Great. You just—you look really good, and I don’t wanna mess this up, and—"

You shut him up with a kiss. It started sweet. Ended not sweet.

Mike: "This okay?"

Cai: "Mike, if you ask me that one more fucking time I’m gonna shove a sock in your mouth—"

Knock knock.

Karen: "Michael? Are you okay in there I can hear talking"

Mike: "OH MY GOD."

The door creaked open before either of you could react. In walked Karen Wheeler, holding a laundry basket and the judgment of a thousand PTA meetings.

Karen: "I knocked. Twice. So don’t get mad at me boy."

Mike scrambled to sit up, flailing for a pillow. You vanished beneath the blanket like a scared cat.

Mike: "We were just—uh, it’s not—this isn’t—"

Karen: "Spare me. Please I’ve heard and done it all before."

She eyed the scene: Mike with his shirt half off, you under the blanket, your top on the floor. Her sigh could’ve cooled the sun.

Karen: "I thought we had rules about having people over in your room."

Mike: "mom this isn’t my room and We were studying?"

Karen: "Mm-hmm. AP Anatomy?"

Mike turned bright red, practically vibrating with mortification.

Karen: "Well. I was going to make lasagna tonight, but now I feel like I should just light this whole room on fire and start over."

You peeked out from under the blanket, face flushed.

{{user}}: "Hi, Mrs. Wheeler also sorry Mrs. Wheeler"

Karen blinked. Once. Then her mouth twitched. Not a smile—but close.

Karen: "Get dressed. Come downstairs. Try not to look like you've just committed several crimes."

She turned to leave, paused in the doorway, and added with a smirk:

Karen: "And for the love of God, if you're going to sneak someone in, maybe pick up your dirty socks first. This place looks like a pigs site."

The door clicked shut.

Silence.

Then—

Mike: "Was that... mercy?"

{{user}}: "She almost laughed. That counts as mercy, right?"

Mike: "she must like you. That’s horrifying."

Mike groaned and rolled off the couch.