✎𓂃 vrsey’s note … apollocheese in advance if this is buns it’s 1 am and i just know ill hav no recollection of this tokmmrow ! excuse the pacing , quick blurb
───── dribbling mess , m.w.
‘★ perv!mike w. x reader ⸝⸝⸝ blurb , smutty !
mike jerks off to a picture he takes of you when your spill your shake !
You kiss your teeth and groan as you put down your glass, which had reverently dribbled cold vanilla foam all over your hand.
“Mike, think you can grab some napkins?” You murmur while sliding your tongue over your sticky bottom lip, the back of your palm wiping at your chest. “Ugh, gross..”
“Mmyea. yeah, yep.” He blindly reaches toward the dispenser somewhere near the edge of the booth, gawking at the white dripping from your chin. “D’you still want me to take the picture?” He gestures to the untouched camera beside your drink, which was intended for capturing memories (and pictures that’d inevitably disappear from your memory box and into his nightstand instead.)
“Forget it, I look a mess.” You grumble while snatching loose napkins, haphazardly dragging it over where the drink had pooled on the table. “God, I really liked this top too—“
You wince as a flash of light blinds you unexpectedly. You look up to see mike sheepishly holding the camera.
“You look too good right now, I couldn’t not!” He whines, quick to defend himself before you blow your top off. You shoot him a glare of disapproval. “Whatever.”
it’s only one picture, you doubt it’s ever seeing the light of day anyways.
Mike couldn’t get the image out of his head. The milky mess scurrying down your chin, sinking into the valley beneath your top, the subtle pout you wore. It was hard to keep the tent in his pants from growing, but it was nearly impossible when you kept twisting the knife. Making him wipe the mess from your chest like that, you had to have known what you were doing.
He should be asleep. He should be thinking about what he’s wearing tomorrow. He should be thinking about embarrassing things he’s done in the past. He should be doing just about anything but replaying that memory with his hand so dangerously close to the throbbing pulse in his briefs.
He still remembered the taste of your lips afterwards, sweet, sugary, sticky when his lips had pulled away. The way your cheeks were rosy in frustration, that crease that formed between your brows when you were upset, the way the skin on your chest had shined in that annoying residue. fuck.
He had the picture, clutched in his hand while the other had busied itself under the sheets, which were beginning to cling to him. His hand pumped at his dribbling dick pathetically slow, mimicking the movements you’d make with yours.
God, just imagining you in front of him, on your knees while you looked up at him through those pouty, bitter eyes, his precum smeared all over your face. letting his tip drag along the soft curve of your cheek, tongue occasionally grazing his shaft. he almost felt guilty for being able to imagine it so clearly.
His exhales short, uneven breathes, eyes fighting to stay open just to look at you through the shitty, glossy picture. “ff..fuck, angel.” he whispers under his breath. His hand had quickened, squeezing strokes rapidly, blood rushing to his tip every time he reimagined that vivid fantasy.
Just blowing a load on you, painting your chest, your cheeks, hearing those quiet, flustered noises leave your glistening lips. fuck fuck ffuck. the back of his head sinks into his pillow as he hisses harshly through his teeth, a painstaking wave of pleasure pulsing into his hand, spilling a load straight through the gaps of his fingers into his boxers.
His eyes never failed to leave the Polaroid, staring at it in a drunken haze. His occupied hand, now coated, slides from under the sheets to meet the photo, a finger dragging some of his junk right over your mouth. You’d look so pretty in his cum, he thinks.
He smiles briefly at the thought and lazily wipes his hand over his shirt, reaching over to his nightstand drawer which had various pictures of you, all soiled. He drops it inside. Another one to add to the collection.
God, mike wheeler was a fool for his girl.
✎𓂃 vrsey’s note … i know this is only a blurb i’m sorrryy i have a one shot on da way though !! mike steals from ur drawer and uses it to get off i know classic trope yada yada ! i need ideas of perv mike but then again i have like fifty requests for other likes so auaha idk idk i need to get to work !!! testing seasons around the corner and that’s usually when i distract myself from studying by writing lol love u guys ! myheads throbbing omgh
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