mr. brightside ,,┊ mike wheeler
now playing mr brightside by the killers
synposis one football player after the next, you've done everything to move on from mike, but his voice still echoes in the back of your mind, each shared glance a reminder of what you lost -- and more importantly, what could've been. while making out with your asshole boyfriend, you lock eyes with mike from outside the window.
starring mike wheeler + cheerleader ! reader
warnings toxic bf at the start, slight nfsw, mentions of dryhumping and a lot of making out, cheating, angst with a happyish ending
AS A PRE-GAME "RITUAL", your boyfriend dragged you into his car, following a strict routine of kissing and the occasional dry-humping-- 30 minutes of kissing, and whatever time was left before the game to rub his boner against the fabric of your green skirt. boring, albeit, but he wholeheartedly believes that this ritual is the reason why hawkins high's football team has reigned undefeated for the past month. he was always quick to remind you that your status was dependent on his victories-- the more touchdowns he scored, the more the other cheerleaders seemed to forget about your rather "troubled" past of DND and rebellion.
his rugged hands moved down your hips, fingertips oddly sharp against your skin as he pressed them down. his tongue slowly crept its way between your cherry slushy-stained teeth, grip intensifying with every squeeze of your hip. your nose scrunched as the scent of his cologne projected through your nose. you gathered whatever composure you had left to hide the frown your lips were beginning to form.
a wave of regret travels through your stomach, its claws twisting and turning through your ribs until all you felt was washed-up guilt. guilt for ever agreeing to get in your boyfriend's stupid BMW, guilt for leaving behind the hellfire club for popularity of all things, but most importantly, guilt that swallowed you whole whenever you thought of mike.
memories of your past relationship begin to rush in, the thickness of the air suffocating you as your boyfriend slowly trailed his lips down the side of your neck, sending a cold shiver down your spine. it was undeniable that you missed mike-- the way his puppy-dog eyes would look up at you like you were the only girl in the world, the way his shaggy curls perfectly framed his face, the way he would tenderly press his lips against your forehead, all of it consumed your every thought.
"jeez, i think you ate off all of my lipstick," you mutter, letting out a humorless chuckle.
for now, you've chosen to set your thoughts about mike aside. you were making out with one of the hottest football players in the entire school, dolled up in the cheerleading uniform that most girls could only dream about, but why were you still not satisfied?
no matter how hard you tried, why couldn't you wash away the pit in your stomach?
you hold onto the dashboard, nails digging into the leather, the other hand wiping away remnants of lipstick that you wouldn't have even thought about touching a year ago.
your boyfriend's chin tilts upwards, eyes piercing through you as he abruptly releases his lips from your neck.
"be quiet, you're ruining the moment."
a frigid response, but nothing out of the ordinary. he shook his head before momentarily continuing-- this time, his lips suctioned into your skin, the intensity of his kissing like no other. you rolled your eyes, huffing out a sigh as you peered over his shoulder, staring out of the window and into the fog.
there he stood, the tension in his jaw grasping onto his hesitation. his lips slightly parted, almost as if the words he wished he could say refused to come out. dressed in a knitted grandpa sweater and denim jeans, the same freckles you used to love counting adorned his fair skin. his fingers fidgeted with the hem of his sweater, an anxious habit you've always taken note of. light wind blew across him, the dusky haze surrounding his figure.
your gazes locked together, bodies frozen in place. no words were exchanged, but the tension between the two of you spoke for itself. his eyes still held the familiar ache from the day you'd left him, only his gaze was slightly colder.
before you get the chance to even say anything, your trance is interrupted.
"could you not tense up like that?" his words snapped you back into reality, each blink slowly placing you back into the moment.
you bit the side of your lip, gaze faltering onto the floorboard. "sorry," you managed to grumble out, though your voice was barely above a whisper. as soon as you glanced back at the window, mike was gone, leaving behind no trace.
beads of sweat slicked your hair onto your forehead, gold and green pompoms in one hand and your half-finished slushy in the other. the game was successful, to say the least-- your boyfriend scored the final touchdown, you got the crowd to scream at the top of their lungs, and the cheer captain even complimented your hairdo.
the scent of freshly cut grass, spilled beer, and stale hairspray wafted into the air, a cold breeze brushing against your bare legs. your breath was still jagged, body sore from exhaustion after managing to pull off all of those stunts.
the empty football field was the perfect place for you to gather your thoughts and let them go for the time being. while your boyfriend spent his night doing god knows what at the football team's "victory rager," you took this as the perfect opportunity to finally be alone, freed from all of the pressure to maintain your perfect, yet fragile image. the soft winds accompanied by the sound of crickets chirping brought you a sort of tranquility that no party could ever compete with.
the more you sat on the field, fingers idly twirling along threads of grass, the more you realized how lonely you were. everything felt hollow-- even the "cheerleader" persona you'd spent months building felt like an empty shell.
as you stared into the night sky, creating little shapes with the stars, the sound of grass rustling quickly caught your attention. you instinctively whip your head over your shoulder, eyes widening as you find yourself greeted by mike's presence.
an awkward tension slowly formed, the pressure in the air suddenly tightening up despite the openness of the football field. for a few seconds, the two of you didn't say anything-- forced smiles were returned, yet neither of you had the courage, or the words, to break the silence.
mike's gaze shifts down to your half-drunken slushy, brows furrowed as he bit the inside of his cheek, waiting for the right words to come out.
"blue raspberry," he impulsively blurted out, quickly pursing his lips back.
you tilt your head to the side, confused.
"what?" your eyes followed mike's trail, staring down at the cherry-red hue in your cup.
he gulps, eyes trailing back and forth before finally answering.
"does your mouth-breather boyfriend know that your favorite flavor is blue raspberry?" his hands formed tense fists by his sides, knuckles whitening for a second.
you clenched your jaw, searching for an appropriate response. there wasn't much to say, other than the fact that he was right-- your boyfriend could barely remember your birthday, let alone your favorite slushy flavor. just as you parted your lips to answer him, you could feel your throat tightened up into knots.
mike takes a seat next to you, pulling his arms out of the straps of his backpack. the familiar silence fills the space between you two once again-- on oddly comforting, yet humiliating silence.
he exhales. "i saw you tod-"
"i know," you cut into his words. "i know, mike."
"your boyfriend's kind of a prick," he added, huffing out a nervous chuckle.
you rose your eyebrows, the familiar sense of wit in your words that you'd lost coming back to you like whiplash. "kind of?"
the two of you exchanged a few giggles-- the kind that were barely audible, but felt like a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders. as much as you'd longed for this sense of familiarity, you quickly pulled your laughs back, traces of guilt slowly invading you again.
you bit your lip back, shaking your head. "i don't know how much longer i can deal with this, you know?"
mike leans in closer, his expression laced with concern.
"he's not you." you dropped it like a bomb, a bomb that was desperate to reach its final seconds before blowing up.
no response. was that the right thing to say? did you just permanently fuck up your entire reputation with one sentence?
his loss for words made you want to sink into the ground, puddled up in your own embarrassment and sin. as much as you tried, you couldn't decipher the look on mike's face-- whether it was understanding or disgust, you knew that you wanted to crawl into a hole and die. a melodramatic death, but at least you'd never have to look anyone in the eye ever again.
the tears of shame began to trickle down your cheek, washing away your carefully applied mascara.
"i shouldn't have said th-"
mike leans in, closing the distance between the two of you. his lips gently press against yours, the tenderness a stark contrast from your boyfriend's harsh kisses. your cries are pacified as you melt into the kiss, your hands cupping mike's cheeks in a way that felt so natural to your body.
he slowly pulls away, lips curled into a lopsided smile. his thumb wipes away a stray tear as he subtly scoots closer, allowing your knees to press against each other.
"i've been wanting to do that for a really long time, y/n," he mutters under his breath, staring into your eyes like they're the only stars he needs to light up his night sky.
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