Mike being very clingy only behind close doors where no one could see you guys because he hates when your guys friends make fun of him
Mike loving to sleep on your chest and being held in your arms the whole night, he feels safe and not judged
Mike always defending you no matter what when the party says something as a joke or anything because your perfect and could do no wrong “Mike, it’s just a joke” they tell him “well it didn’t land” he bites back.
Mike who thinks your the coolest person he’s ever met and still gets shy around you at times
Mike who loves to show you his music hoping you’ll think it’s cool
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it’s friday night, the kind of night where the campus outside is alive with noise, but inside, mike is wedged into the corner of the small couch, eyes glued to a textbook he hasn't actually read in twenty minutes.
you’re standing by the door, already halfway through putting on your shoes, trying to figure out why you’re even bothering to ask again.
"it’s not even a big deal," you say, grabbing your keys off the dresser. "it’s just the park across campus. there’s a bonfire, people are going to be there. come on, stop being such a loser and get up."
this is the 3rd weekend in a row that you’ve tried to get mike out of the house, it’s gotten to the point that your friends think you have an imaginary boyfriend. and you’re seriously starting to get fed up with his excuses.
the word hangs in the air, casual, like it’s nothing. it’s just the way you talk to him, the way you’ve been talking to him, like he’s a habit you’re trying to break.
mike doesn’t move. for a second, he just stares at the spine of the book, his thumb rubbing the frayed edge of the cover. the silence stretches out, mike doesn't say anything either, but something in his jaw sets, hard.
he’s been playing the part you wanted for the last three months. he’s been going where you want, when you want, and with whoever you want, mostly because the anxiety of being separated from you was too overwhelming to handle. but dragging himself to these random places with random people doesn't make him feel any better. mike isn't stupid, he knows exactly how people look at him. he knows they think he’s different, that he’s weird. he accepted that years ago in middle school. he swore to himself back then he’d never try to mingle with these kinds of people, these mouth breathers, but here he is, still trying for you. only, he’s done. he’s fed up of pretending that every little shot you take at him doesn't sting, and he’s tired of swallowing it just to keep the peace.
he closes the book. the sound is quiet, but in the small room, it lands like a gunshot.
"i'm not going," he says. his voice is low and monotone.
"gosh, you're impossible," you groan, turning away to shove your phone into your pocket. "seriously, why are you like this? you’re acting like a total child. just come for twenty minutes, stop embarrassing me."
mike finally looks up. he just looks at you, his eyes dark and completely unreadable.
"is that what i am?" he asks. it’s barely a whisper, but it stops you in your tracks. "a -an embarrassment?"
you laugh, but it comes out forced. "you’re being dramatic, mike. don't do that. i’m just saying, it wouldn't kill you to act normal for once."
he stands up. but he doesn't walk toward you, he just stands by the couch, hands shoved deep into his pockets.
"i'm not going," he says. "and you know what? i’m done with this! i’m done with you calling me a loser every time we're around people. it’s not a joke. you think it’s funny, but it’s just mean." his hands shaking a little, so he shoves them into his pockets to hide it. he paces the small room once, then stops, staring at the wall instead of you.
"you act like-like you're better than me," he says, his voice cutting through the silence. "like i'm just some.. project or something you're embarrassed by. you like that i just sit here and take it. you like that i don't fight back. well, i'm fighting back now. i’m not going to that bonfire. and honestly? i don't think i want to go anywhere with you anymore. just... go. just go to your party."
he walks to the door and holds it open, waiting for you to leave. he doesn't look angry, he looks like he’s finally realized something he’s been avoiding for a long time, and he’s relieved to be done with it.
"mike, stop," you say, your voice dropping.he doesn't look at you, doesn't wait for a rebuttal, but he does pause, just for a heartbeat.
"i’m going to the library," he says, his hand resting on the metal. "don't wait up."
the door clicks shut behind him, leaving you standing in the middle of the dorm room, the silence swallowing the space where he had been only a second ago.
It was readers first time sleeping over with Mike, they’ve been dating for three and half months yet Mike was still somewhat shy with her, he didn’t know how to lean in and take what he wanted from her, he would overthink a lot when it came to her.
When it came to having to go to sleep reader and Mike were sharing his bed, she was in one side and he was on the other.
Mike was nervous to say the least because he thought reader was the coolest person ever, she was so cool and he was just a loser, he didn’t want to do something and look stupid in front of her, he couldn’t ruin anything, yet in her eyes he could do no wrong.
Reader was on her side facing Mike, as he was on his back looking up at the celling, reader looks at him and moves a bit closer to him, she pulls the duvet over her shoulders and she speaks in a soft sleepy voice “you seem tense…and quite” Mike turns his head to the side to look at her, he notices how close they both were, his eyes shifted to her eyes to her lips then her eyes, he was nervous sleeping next to her for the first time “nothing. I’m fine..just tired” he said, he leans over and pecks her lips gently, it was a small quick peck, reader smiles after he had pulled away she leans back in and pecks his lips and whispers “good night”.
Reader turns to her side facing away from him, they both end up falling asleep, throughout the night Mike finds himself having a wet dream about him and reader, in the morning he wakes up first then reader, he feels his shift hard and uncomfortable aching for relief, he realizes what is happening and his heart drops down into his stomach with embarrassment, this can’t be happening now, not right now not when reader and him are sharing a bed together for the first time .
Hey guys this was just something short I had in mind I hope you liked it, I really want to get into writing my own little fanfics so if you guys have anything in mind that I could write tell me 😁😁 soo if you want me to continue this tell me ❤️
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SIDECHICK!MIKE WHO.. was under the idea that you truly needed tutoring. sharing the same classes, he didn’t find anything unusual about coming over to your dorm to help give you a few notes.
SIDECHICK!MIKE WHO.. was extremely surprised when while he was trying to explain to you the different types of historical punctuation marks, you had leaned in and kiss him.
SIDECHICK!MIKE WHO.. couldn’t think about anything else other than your cherry flavored chapstick and how sweet it was, the smell overwhelming him.
SIDECHICK!MIKE WHO.. pulled away once remembering your other half of a crappy boyfriend, the one you met in highschool and are now doing long distance with(or whatever you said, he wasn’t really paying attention.)
SIDECHICK!MIKE WHO.. scheduled more tutoring sessions with you after that. every tuesday at 6pm, after you had already gotten off your scheduled call with your boyfriend(don’t ask how he knows that.)
SIDECHICK!MIKE WHO.. actually does your homework for you. he justifies it as "helping," but really, it’s a power move. he writes your essays, he fills in your worksheets, and he slides them over to you with a smug look, knowing you’ll pass because of him. It’s his way of ensuring you stay enrolled, stay close, and stay dependent on him.
SIDECHICK!MIKE WHO.. convinces himself that your boyfriend doesn't actually know you. your boyfriend sees the polished version, but mike sees the version of you that complains about homework, that cries, that makes bad jokes, that gets messy, all the things you hide.
SIDECHICK!MIKE WHO.. while you two are making out, he’ll leave a few love bites in places he thinks your boyfriend won’t see, and even if he does.. it only works in mikes favor.
SIDECHICK!MIKE WHO.. insecurities eats him alive. he spends hours staring at the wall, wondering why he isn't enough to be your main choice. he looks at himself in the mirror and thinks about how he doesn't compare to the boyfriend who takes you on public dates and buys you expensive stuff.
SIDECHICK!MIKE WHO.. hates himself for it, but he finds himself hoping your boyfriend messes up again, just so you’ll run back to him, just so he can prove he’s the one who cares more.
SIDECHICK!MIKE WHO.. is terrified that if he tells you to choose, you’ll choose your boyfriend. so he plays the long game. he figures if he’s just good enough for long enough, eventually, you’ll realize your boyfriend is an idiot and that mike was there all along.
loveeeddddd your mean!mike hcs and i was wondering if you could make a smut/NSFW version?? if you’re not comfortable doing that i completely understand, love your work and have a nice day 💕
✧ ﹕ mean mike wheeler hcs (18+) .ᐟ
a/n — afab!reader briefly & possibly ooc !! also why yes i can do this, thank u sm i hope ur having an amazing day !! replying to this more recent ask cuz i had multiple ppl ask for this :)
when mike is on the meaner side, he'll be a little more inclined to fuck your face. it doesn't exactly happen often, but that just means that when it does, it's a hell of an experience. his fingers curl in your hair as you kneel between his legs on the bed, hips bucking up to meet your mouth like you're not doing enough. he groans and heaves as his free hand bunches your hair up and moves it out of your face and into his hand as a makeshift grip. his cock throbs on your tongue as you look up at him with beady, almost teary eyes, and he nearly orgasms from the pathetic sight of you wrapped around his cock.
"f-fuck—" mike chokes out, a low moan stirring in his throat as his hips buck up to meet your mouth. your nose kisses his navel and you're almost sure you've never been so full of him than in this moment.
starting a slow pace, your boyfriend carefully thrusts in and out of your hot, wet mouth, drool gathering with every one. it doesn't last long. within moments, he's gripping at the hair at the nape of your neck and full on face fucking you, watching the tears brim at your eyes as you fight to hold them back. but you never stop trying to make him feel good, tongue laving over every vein and ridge to send him over the edge.
"can't believe you're letting me do this..." he mumbles somewhere under his breath, head rolling back onto the pillow as he promptly lets his hips fall flush against the bed.
but mike's not done. far from it, actually. only now, he's using his stable (yet somehow still gentle) grip on every strand of your hair to guide your head up and down his cock like it's his own fist hugging the length.
he soon orgasms with a choked out groan of a weak, "shit, baby," that tumbles past his lips. you're held down, nose pressed against his navel as his cock eagerly twitches and pulses cum that dribbles down your lips and, mostly, down the column of your throat.
"...god, i seriously can't believe you let me do that." he rubs it in.
mike purposely does things to piss you off. he stops what he's doing right before you're about to cum, pulling away from you completely and edging you as a result. it makes you want him more, he likes to claim. it's strategic. in reality, he just likes getting a rise out of you. it's hot to him and that's just about all there is to it. not only that, but he loves watching you writhe and whine because of something he did. the newfound control he has over someone, over you, makes him dizzy. he'll also scatter hickeys over your neck and jaw in the heat of the moment, leaving you to find out about them only when someone is asking if you're okay with a gesture to your skin. he knows it'll fluster you and you'll come back to give him a piece of your mind. that's why he does it.
with that, mike is unfair and teases until your eyes are brimming tears of pure, unbridled frustration. he'll lean in to kiss you but move away at the last second so his lips brush against your cheek, earning a more than annoyed huff from you. then, he's perched between your thighs, blowing cold air on your clit and giving it a series of little slaps as if he wants you to be mad at him. when he finally gets to going down on you, tongue circling with precision and making your thighs quiver, he stops right when you clench around his fingers and yours dig into his scalp. right when you're about to cum. he has to stifle a laugh when you actually push at his head and shoulders with how upset you are at him. he defends, "i just don't want you to cum too early! we still have all night, yeah?"
mike turns you on on purpose when he knows you can't do anything about it. not even out of spite, necessarily. just when he wants to get in your head. his hand squeezes your thigh under tables and he'll run a finger over the seam of your jeans, right where your clit lay, underneath a thick blanket. oftentimes, you're not alone, surrounded by friends when he does it. you can't do anything then, can you? all you can do is press your needy thighs together and hope that when time passes and you're finally alone with him, he'll touch you. it's truly a 50/50 whether he actually does it when you two get home, though, and that's what's so exciting to him about turning you on like that. knowing he holds the fate of your night in his hands. in reality, he can't turn you down. not actually. he'll just stall longer before letting you lazily hump him before bed.
standing around the kitchen with the party, you're gently leaning against the countertop as you listen to the others banter and chat like you haven't seen each other in weeks. because, truly, you hadn't. there was so much to catch up on yet so little time, you think.
what soon crowds your mind, and body, is your boyfriend, mike, coming up and hugging you from behind. it's not innocent, though. when all your friends step into the dining room ahead, mike leans over and presses a chaste kiss to your temple with a contradicting rut of his bulge against your ass. with a soft, shaky inhale, you look up at him. he just wordlessly hugs you closer before grinding forward again.
"miss you so bad. wanna take you on the counter right here, just like at home. 's so tempting." he spurs on, making your thighs weak and core throb with arousal. the closeness of his body, flush against yours, doesn't help your racing heart either.
then, he sighs, "but i can't. oh well."
with those five words, mike backs off of you and into the dining room with your friends like he wasn't just whispering sweet nothings into your ear. he isn't even hard. it was all a ploy.
what a bitch, you think. your bitch, but still. what a bitch.
takes out his frustration on you from time to time. after a particularly rough day or when his heart is unusually heavy, he'll come to you first and nuzzle his nose against your neck with a whine before finding your waist in his hands and gripping hard. he'll get you in doggy and fuck you hard from behind, degrade you a bit (though he never really got good at that), whatever it takes to forget the shitty day he had. hand landing on the plush of your ass, just to feel something. weakly tugging at your hair and making your eyes tear up from the sting. but unless you stop him, he just keeps going. sometimes it's less justified, something he could probably just talk out, but he'll always try to take the easy way out first. he's not usually like this, so pushy and demanding, so quiet yet loud all at once. but when he is, all you can find it in yourself to do is arch your back a little more for him and push back against him with every harsh thrust.
mike makes you beg. there's a deeply instilled, twisted part of him that gets off on being needed. sexually, that's no exception. it translates into him tapping the head of his cock against your aching pussy, weeping for him, as he waits for you to say the magic words that'll have him taking away all the need in your body. sometimes, he'll start to do something, only to stop when he realizes he can make you beg for it first. it's a simple way he maintains that power over you, yet possibly the most effective one. he's cupping your chin and tutting in mock disappointment, stepping away when you won't say please for his cock. he is absolutely insufferable.
sometimes, during sex, mike treats you like you're dumb. whenever you get a little spacey because the sex is too good, he'll huff out a small laugh and murmur, "can't think straight? feels too good?" it's a way of maintaining that control he so craves in his life, but through your sex life. he'll award you condescending pet names that make his cock twitch more than anything, calling you his poor baby. his pace is anything but kind, though, cock buried deep inside of you as he pumps in and out repeatedly. his hips kiss yours and you swear you forget anything but him for a moment, just as he likes you. stupid in love.
"you're s-so good," mike sighs against your ear, head rising and eyes meeting yours as he sees the fucked out expression on your face. grinning, he leans into it. obnoxiously.
"my girl can't think straight when i fuck her like this?" his tongue darts out to wet his lips as he leans in to nip at your lower lip, watching them part to whine in return. "just gonna lay there and let me fuck you how i want? jeez..."
you don't miss the little smile he gives you. he knows you like it when he gets bitchy. he likes it, too, when he pushes you around and takes any remaining responsibility off your plate. with every thrust of his hips against yours, your mind gets a little more cloudy and you can't quite place why. maybe it's the way he talks to you, calls you pretty and dumb and gorgeous and complacent. or maybe his cock really is good enough to completely scramble your thoughts and senses.
either way, you know he's smiling when you whine aloud and bury your face into the pillow in utter defeat. he just pulls your hips closer to his and keeps fucking into you like it's nothing.
"i'll just have to do all the work for you, huh? make you feel good, make you cum for me..." he trails off in focus, watching in awe as you pulse around him, "cause you can't do a single fucking thing."
you think you hear him call you pathetic under his breath, but you're not quite sure. you just keep your face buried in the soft fabric of the pillow and let your mind go white with pleasure.
a/n — hey so i hope this isn't insanely ooc bc i want this to be interesting but also mike wheeler is so dear to me and i can't see him being super mean let alone to his lover. if it is ooc tho i hope its in a hot way <3 posting at a more reasonable time tonight ohhhh let's gooo (11:30 pm BYE) (ill be up until 2 am)
a/n 2 — i need finn in ways concerning to feminism rn
