FANTASIZE
pairing: Mike Wheeler x Fem! Hellfire club! reader
summary: After everything that happened at the Starcourt Mall, Dustin, Lucas, Mike, and you started a new year and joined the Hellfire Club. As Mike's best friend, you went to his house often and sometimes stayed over to write D&D campaign ideas; one day you were hanging out with him when you discovered something that would change your friendship completely.
warnings: smut, mdni, +18
You and Mike were, as always, best friends. He was your safe haven after the chaos of the past few years. You went to his house almost every day, and you often stayed late devising campaigns, drawing maps, and creating characters. It was your ritual.
That October afternoon, with sheets of paper taped to the basement window and the distant sound of Karen Wheeler washing dishes upstairs, you were working on a new mission. Mike, deep in thought, chewed on the end of his pencil.
โWe need a new spell,โ he said, flipping through the Playerโs Handbook. โSomething that isnโt just damage, something thatโฆ attacks the senses.โ
โLike a confusion spell?โ you asked, leaning back on the old sofa.
โMore intimate,โ he replied, without looking at you. There was something strange about his tone, a new vibration. Suddenly, he stood up. โIโve got an idea. I have some old scrolls in my room, from the winter campaign. Iโll be down in a minute.โ
He took the stairs two at a time. You were left alone in the basement, surrounded by posters, jumbled comics, and Mike's belongings.
To pass the time, you went over to his work table, covered in loose sheets of paper. There were exquisitely detailed maps, monster statisticsโฆ and then, a thick, black sketchbook, unlike anything you'd seen before.
Curious, you opened it. The first few pages were sketches of dragons, warriors, castles. But as you flipped through the pages, your pulse quickened. The drawings changed.
They were human figures, two of them.
One, slender, with curly hair and an intense expressionโclearly Mike. The otherโฆ was you.
You recognized your hairstyle, your favorite Def Leppard t-shirt. At first, they were just embracing, then kissing with an urgency that made the paper seem to burn. And thenโฆ the scenes became explicit.
Damn, very explicit.
Mike had you against the basement wall, your legs wrapped around his waist, your head thrown back. In another, you were on top of him on the sofa, your blouse open, his mouth on your breast.
The strokes were passionate, desperate, full of intimate details: the bites on his shoulder, his hands on your thighs, the expression of ecstasy on both of your faces.
They weren't just drawings; they were fantasies captured with obsessive precision.
And there was text. Fragments of narrative, like scenes from D&D but starring you.
โMike finally confesses his loyalty to the warrior (Y/N). She pushes him against the altar of the ancient gods and tears off his robes. Her skin is hot like battle fire. He kisses her as if extracting poison, and she moans his name, not his class title, but his true nameโฆโ
An instant, wet heat spread between your legs. Shame should have set in, but it was overcome by a surge of pure desire. Mikeโฆ fantasized about you like this? With this intensity? You remembered his lingering gazes, the way he touched your shoulder and wouldn't pull his hand away, how he always found excuses to be alone with you.
You heard his footsteps on the stairs. You quickly closed the notebook, but you didn't let go.
Your breathing was ragged. He appeared, holding some papers. His smile faded when he saw your face, and then when he saw the black notebook between your fingers. He paled.
"What are youโฆ?" His voice cracked.
"Mike," you said. "Is thisโฆ about me?"
He froze, like a deer caught in headlights. His pride, his deepest secret, was exposed. He swallowed.
"Iโฆ can explain."
"Explain this," you said, opening the notebook to a particularly graphic page where you, in a drawing, had your lips around hisโ
โShut that up!โ he practically shouted, leaping closer.
But when he reached you, he didnโt snatch it. They just stared at each other, the air crackling with electricity.
โFor how long?โ you whispered.
โForever,โ he confessed, breathless. โI couldnโt stop. I tried, I swear. But every time we were here, aloneโฆโ
Your eyes dropped to his pants. A noticeable bulge was forming in his jeans. That shattered any remaining barriers.
You put down your notebook and grabbed his face, pulling him closer. Your first real kiss wasnโt tender. It was ravenous, wet, a clash of teeth and tongues that tasted of Coca-Cola and years of pent-up desire.
He groaned against your mouth, his hands gripping your waist as if he feared you were a mirage.
โAre you sure?โ he gasped, parting his lips just an inch.
โIโve seen what you want to do to me,โ you breathed, guiding his hand to your breast. โDo it.โ
That was the spark. Mike pushed you against the table, sweeping the dice and figures away with one arm. The sound of the plastic falling to the floor was drowned out by his mouth on your neck, biting, sucking. His fingers found the hem of your sweatshirt and lifted it, tossing it aside. Your bra met the same fate with a swift movement of his hands.
โGod, I always imagined you like this,โ he murmured, his gaze dropping to your bare breasts. โBut youโre moreโฆ real.โ
He lowered his head and took one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking and licking with a skill you'd never known you possessed. A jolt of pleasure shot down your spine. You moaned, tangling your fingers in his hair. With your other hand, you clumsily unbuttoned his jeans, slipping your hand inside to find his erection, hot and hard. He arched his back with a grunt.
"I won't last long if you touch me like that," he warned, his voice husky.
"Then don't wait," you ordered. You moved toward the sofa, falling on top of him in a flurry of flying clothes. His pants and boxers were around his ankles; your jeans and panties were pushed aside, not quite off, in your urgency. He positioned himself between your legs, and for a second you stared at each other. Your lifelong friend, now trembling with need on top of you.
โIโve loved you all this time,โ he confessed, his voice fragile and vulnerable.
โShow me,โ you pleaded.
And he did. He thrust into you all at once, filling you completely. You both sighed, muffling your sounds against each other's shoulders. He began to move, his rhythm erratic at first, then steady, deep. Each thrust was a promise, each withdrawal a delicious torture. The sofa creaked against the wall in time with your bodies. You adjusted to his every movement, digging your nails into his back, feeling the sweat stick to your skin. His lips found yours again and again, chaotic, breathless kisses.
"Just like that," he gasped, looking at you with glazed eyes. "Like in my fantasies, but better, because you're here, moaning my name..."
"Mike... Mike..." you cried, as an unbearable tension built in your belly.
His hands slid between you, finding your swollen clitoris and rubbing it in precise circles. That's what made you fall. The orgasm hit you like a wave, making your body arch and convulse beneath him, a muffled cry against his shoulder. The spasm inside you brought him to the edge, and with one last deep thrust, he too fell, spilling inside you with a long, shuddering groan. Time stood still. Only the sound of his ragged breathing filled the basement. He collapsed beside you, not quite pulling away, keeping you connected. His hand found yours, intertwining your fingers.
โThe notebookโฆโ he began, embarrassed.
โKeep it,โ you interrupted, turning your head to kiss him gently. โBut from now on, we do the actual scenes first. Then we write them down.โ A slow, relieved smile spread across his face.
โThatโฆ is the best campaign idea weโve ever had.โ
