#hellraiser mike smut

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Part 32

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Series Masterlist

Part 31 🟣 Part 33

A reverse harem vampire AU ft. Mikey, Marshall, August, Sherlock, Charles, Melot and Napoleon

Series summary: Somehow, you've managed to live with your boyfriend and his roommates for months before finding out they're vampires, but the real shock first comes when they find out you have a special quality. A quality the guys would love to make use of...

Warnings: ongoing vampire shenanigans, Melot's ongoing identity crisis, purple (or at the very least lavender) prose, angst, mentions of: child marriage, cheating, (internalized) homophobia, religious trauma, abuse, SA. Mentions of grey sweatpants, inappropriate anger at the inventor of jeans, Awkward Virgin trope, blood, biting, bruising, praise kink, the untimely demise of a shirt, awkward groping, (awkward everything), handjob, blowjob, premature-ish ejaculation, wasting water by taking a shower that later proves to have been absolutely fucking useless, Frotting/rubbing/dry humping (not sure what to call this, tbh. A butt-job?), rimming (eating ass, analingus, pick your fave), light D/s dynamic, light brat behavior, hair pulling, more praise (possibly slight feminisation? Depending on how youd define that?), masturbation, deepthroating, throatfucking, oral creampie, cumswapping/cumkissing, elements of subspace + subdrop, aftercare.

Word count: 14.004 (Yes. 14k. You read that correctly.)

A/N: Well, well, well, what here we have? It started with this sweet ask from @geralts-yenn, and... what can I say? Things got out of hand? (Understatement.)

It quickly became clear to me that there was a lot more to unpack than I had originally counted on, and then the boys turned out to be... well, dirty little whores. So...

I considered making this a bonus-chapter because this is written from Melot's POV, but since it slots into the timeline, I decided against that. I will, however be changing the tense and POV (from past tense to present, and from 2nd person to 1st person POV) from here on out, because over time I've simply come to prefer writing that way. I'll also be writing more chapters from the boys' perspectives—I'm working on one from Leon's POV that isn't too far off in the future (storyline-wise... actual real-life time-wise, one can never know.)

Also: I'm literally begging everyone to come into my comments (or DMs, or asks) to talk about these boys because... Well, I just love them so much. I already did, but it's literally so much worse now, lol.

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @ellethespaceunicorn @summersong69 @mis-lil-red

@sillyrabbit81 @livisss @itsrubberbisquit @ktficworld @proud-aroace-beastie

@plaidcat4815 @wa-ni @lovemusicpart2 @lizzystuffsthings @manysecrets2020

@sarcasmoverlordxo @mysweetlittledesire

I’m afraid to open my eyes, knowing that if I do, I’ll be staring right back into the reflection of my own soul.

There’s no hiding from him—not that I want to. At least, I think I don’t.

I sit still, counting the seconds as they tick away on the clock in the living room. I’m the only one who can hear it from anywhere in the house—anywhere on the property, even. If I try hard enough, that is.

The sound has been my anchor for centuries. Sometimes, it feels more familiar to me than the beating of my own heart. Unsurprisingly, I might add. How could it not be, when everything about me exists for the sole purpose of looking outward.

Oftentimes, my visions have prevented me from gaining a more intimate knowledge of myself, and they continue to do so to this day. It’s been this way throughout my entire existence.

Fourteen hundred years. Fourteen centuries.

My senses are honed to perfection. Beyond it, even—although many would argue the impossibility of the proposition, but it’s exactly what a millennium and a half will do to you.

I know that better than anyone. How could anyone know better? For all we know, I might very well be the oldest vampire on the planet.

The scoff I attempt to choke back finds its way to freedom as a nigh imperceptible faltering in my otherwise steady breathing.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he whispers softly. I feel his fingertips creep closer to mine before they actually do, yet I am startled by the sensation of him touching me.

I resist the urge to pull my hand back, just as I’ve been resisting the urge to flee the room and never return. A part of me, I am most unwilling to admit, even wants to attack.

He wouldn’t stand a chance.

He’d be dead before he even realized I’d moved.

Oh, to become something you’ve been taught to fear—and to think this is hardly my first battle of the sort. I’d give up the hope that they ever get easier, if I hadn’t known for a fact they don’t for the longest time.

‘You like boys.’

These words have haunted my dreams for the past two days. Left me alone for nary a second since the moment they fell freely and innocently from Mike’s beautiful lips.

Spoken with no ill intent, they wrapped themselves around every inch of every branch of my consciousness, constricting it more and more with every last breath I took, their truth so immediately undeniable that I was forced to admit to it.

And that means there is no way back for me now.

When Mike told me that I’d have time for an identity crisis later, I don’t think he realized just how right he was, and I can’t blame him for his ignorance. I don’t doubt for a second that it was completely unintentional.

As much as he hates it when we say it, he is just a baby, born into a fairly secular household in the sixties, but more importantly; involved in all kinds of generally more accepting subcultures from a relatively young age…

He’s had his struggles, of course. But as strange as it is to say, because one has to admit they were significant, they are irrelevant at this current time.

On the other side, we have… well, me.

Forced into a political marriage at fourteen in early medieval Cornwall, to a girl even younger than I was, our wedding night consisting of nothing but a tear-filled pact made between two terrified children under the cover of darkness, to forego the consummation of our marriage.

Instilled in me, a fierce loyalty and the staunch belief that a man lay with no one but his own wife, and a wife with no other person than her husband, I devoted myself to her as best I could, given our circumstances.

That there was no love between us mattered not, for we had been united before God.

Not unlike today, however, inappropriately crude and explicit conversations with my peers had made me far more knowledgeable on the subject of reproduction than I otherwise would have been, given my lacking experience.

For years, I slept by her side, riddled with guilt over our failure to fulfil our marital duties toward one another, praying every waking minute for the ability to be a better husband.

I shed my tears over her betrayal in private as I prepared to welcome a child into my life—a child I knew couldn’t possibly be mine.

Every day of my life, I am grateful for the existence of specialized historical trauma psychologists: They were of indescribable and immeasurable value when I was struggling to unite the unpleasant aspects of my upbringing and ‘early’ non-human life—the first thousand years, give or take—with the modern world I somehow found myself in rather more suddenly than I had ever expected.

The past certainly has a way of sneaking up on you, but I wouldn’t dream of underestimating the present in that particular respect.

Alas, as helpful as my therapists have been, their efforts feel wasted in this moment, because Mike dragged me onto a new road of self-discovery that appears to contain several unexpected challenges.

Challenges I am afraid of.

Challenges I am ashamed of.

As mentioned before: for the second time in my fourteen hundred years, I have become something I was taught to fear, and despite my convictions that I had overcome my prejudices, that I had moved past this darkness of fear and hatred, it seems to be the case that nothing could be further from the truth.

A shocking revelation. Truly.

I find no solace in the fact that I was never taught to hate, though it is true. One is almost never directly taught to hate, for the simple reason that it is far easier to teach fear than hatred.

But fear breeds hatred.

I learned to fear the sin, which led me to hate the sinner, and there is no excuse for that.

This, I have always known.

Over time—more time than I care to admit—my hatred disappeared, and I took pride in that, for I had shown growth, and an ability to learn and adapt.

I had evolved.

How upsetting it is, then, to be forced to come to the realization that somewhere along the line, I seem to have come to the conclusion that to cease fearing for others’ condemnation would suffice in terms of accepting them.

In other words: If they want to go to hell, let them!

And now that it’s me, I find that I suffer still from that very same fear of a god I have long since stopped believing in.

The line between truly knowing that something isn’t sinful, and simply not caring when others sin, is remarkably thin.

And I am standing right on top of it.

“It wouldn’t help,” Mike whispers, just as my desire to ask him what I want surges, threatening to wash me away.

Two lonely tears escape my still closed eyes, allowing me to focus on their path down my cheeks as they fight the resistance my skin provides.

I thank them silently.

“Why not?” There is no point in trying to keep the defeat from shining through in my voice.

“Because you want it all,” he replies. I expect to hear pity in his voice, and its absence surprises me nearly as much as his answer. No matter how much I want to ask him, my voice refuses to lend me its cooperation.

Not that it matters. After all, Mike knows.

“There is no ‘one desire’, Melot,” he continues, making me shiver as he drags a single finger down the back of my hand. “In the past thirty seconds alone, you’ve cycled through ‘fight, flight, freeze’ more times than I can count. You want to jump me—either to kiss me or kill me. You want to run, hide, talk, think, cry, scream, punch something—not me, please. You want answers, and to desperately not need answers because you want there to not be a question that needs answering to begin with.”

“I never wanted to kill you,” I mumble, the characteristic heat of embarrassment creeping up to my cheeks in a staggering tempo.

Mike chuckles. I’m not proud of what the sound does to me, but good Lord it feels amazing. “That’s the thing, Melmel,” he muses quietly, “the fact that I felt it, means it was a genuine desire. Granted, it didn’t last long, but it was there. And I get it.”

“I was never going—” More tears tread in their predecessors’ footsteps, their heat blending in nicely with the scorching glow of embarrassment that plagues my skin.

“I know,” he reassures me. “You have a whole rational brain I don’t have access to—that’s Marshall’s territory, not mine. My point is: you can’t ‘sorta’ want something. Okay, you can, in the sense that there’s a scale to how much you want something—a range from ‘want’ to ‘need’—but there’s no such thing as a half-desire. A desire is a desire.”

I wince at the implication of his words as guilt washes over me like a tidal wave, while Mike continues: “Your tiny little—but genuine—want to brutally murder me was immediately overshadowed by a very strong need for me to be… not dead.”

“Was there anything useful in the entire list?” I’m surprised by my ability to squeeze out an entire sentence, if I’m being honest.

Mike chuckles again, and my whole body feels like it’s made of carbonated liquid. “The desire to call your therapist is probably a good one,”—he pauses for a moment, letting out a cheeky chuckle—“and I would selfishly vote in favor of any of the many more eh… carnal ones.”

I scoff. He speaks in jest, at least partially, and I refuse to dignify his nonsense with a response, so I move on. “Which is the most, eh… potent?”

“That’s a great way to phrase it, yeah,” Mike confirms. “And it’s definitely your overwhelming—and permanent, by the way—desire to be held by someone.”

I finally open my eyes, staring at Mike wide-eyed in nothing short of pure horror. How disappointing that the floor doesn’t melt away from under me right this second to spare me the mortification…

“Get your priorities straight, Melmel,” Mike admonishes me, a sweet smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You should be way more embarrassed about wanting to kill me than wanting to snuggle up to someone.” He scooches closer to me, quickly adjusting the mountain of pillows as he moves, and puts an arm around my shoulders. “Especially since we share that particular need.”

We sit in silence for a while, Mikey’s head on my shoulder, his arm around me. It triggers my visions, which isn’t at all surprising. In them, I feel none of the shame and guilt I do now—or did, moments ago—which is very reassuring, but as much as I would like to luxuriate in that feeling after my meltdown, Mikey’s much stronger reaction forces me to let them pass, acknowledged but without much further investigation.

He struggles to keep his fingers still, and I am facing similar difficulties in strangling whatever sound I feel I can’t afford to make freely.

“What do you need from me?” I practically have to force the words out of my mouth. “In this… courtship?”

Mike laughs. “As far as definitions go, that’s fair, but do you know a twenty-first-century word?”

“To describe you?” I elbow him in the ribs and roll my eyes. “I know several, and I doubt you’d be happy with any of them.”

“Jerk,” he huffs.

“That was one of them, yes.” I struggle not to laugh when Mike pouts and nudges me, failing miserably, and before I know it, I’m on my back with him hovering over me. My gaze is pulled towards his lips through no fault of my own. In my fourteen hundred years, I have never known anyone who scowls as adorably as Mikey does, and every corner of my thoughts occupied by the sight of his bottom lip sticking out slightly.

Completely involuntarily, my eyes follow the contours of that lip, and my mind gravitates towards images of us. Together.

I—

I bite back the moan that threatens to escape, and fight to regain control of my teeth. “We should talk first,” I manage, my words punctuated by labored breaths.

Mike nods, dropping onto his side next to me and propping himself up on one elbow. “It’s really simple,” he says plainly. Clearly, the past thirty seconds have been less taxing on his self-restraint than they were on mine… “We can take this as slowly as you need, obviously. But I need you to know the difference between what you’re ready for now, and what you know you’ll be ready for in the future.”

I nod. That’s the easy part of the equation.

Unfortunately, Mike may be a clown at times, but he wasn’t born yesterday. “And I need you to stick with the now-boundaries.”

I nod again, much less sure of myself this time, but I promise him to give it my very best effort.

“Of course, I’ll help. If necessary,” he continues. “But I refuse to rely on my gift to guard your limits. I need to know you feel comfortable, and safe, and confident enough to communicate your needs, okay?”

His concern for my safety and wellbeing is almost enough to bring me to tears all over again. If I’ve learned anything in my life, it’s that time does, in fact, not heal all wounds, and although I have come a long way, I cannot deny the lasting—possibly permanent—damage inflicted upon me by the coldest, darkest days of my past.

The times without love.

The times when I had no one but myself to care about me.

I sob my agreement to his terms, rather than say it. The sound of my breaking voice draws his brows together in a pitiful frown.

He bites his lower lip as he contemplates his next words, and I struggle to keep my head clear as his lips once again draw my attention away from the conversation, while the sorrow in his expression has me teetering on the edge of panic.

His expression hardens as he breathes in deeply before looking at me very directly. His eyes are cold, and my heart rate quickens at the sight.

“And,” he says softly but with unmistakable determination, “I’m not doing this behind closed doors.” He looks down, fidgeting with the duvet covers as he continues: “I’m not saying you have to come out to the entire world tomorrow—or explicitly to anyone at all, unless you want to, of course—”

“I wouldn’t even know what to come out as,” I admit almost reluctantly. At this point, I haven’t even begun to think about labels and definitions and whatnot.

“I mean… If we’re going to be dating, then one label that definitely applies is ‘the guy who’s dating Mikey’,” he says matter-of-factly. I have to admit he has a point. “I’m kinda big on PDA—I promise I won’t suck your face off in public, but hugs, or a kiss here and there… Like, I’m not going to let some guy who can’t even hold my hand at the movies, dick me down when we get home.”

He laughs at my expression, and I can’t blame him. I, myself, imagine it to be quite the sight; wide-eyed, mouth opening and closing like a fish on dry land while my entire vocabulary seems to have vacated the premises…

“I’m sorry,” he snickers, “I didn’t mean to scare you. My point is: If you can’t love me in public, you don’t get to love me in private, that’s all.”

“Mikey…” I hesitate, attempting at the same time to swallow away the lump in my throat. It doesn’t work. “I promise—swear, even—that I will try, but I might need some time.”

“Progress, not perfection, Melmel,” Mike says as he leans forward to rest his forehead against mine for a moment. “I just want you to make an effort, okay?”

I nod furiously. Of course, I never truly expected him to toss me aside because I can’t adjust to all of this in a matter of days, but it’s a relief, nonetheless.

Now that my fears have been taken away, more visions come to me. The doom scenarios are entirely of my own making—I learned to tell the difference several centuries ago, but I can’t say that that knowledge has been in any way facilitative to my ability to disregard them.

However, I cannot deny that it is comforting that the majority of them are overwhelmingly positive, setting my body alight with a warm, soothing glow.

It makes me calm.

Happy.

It also makes me…

“For someone who’s struggling to come to terms with all of this,”—Mike’s voice is strained, the sound of it more of a moan than regular speech—“you are incredibly horny.”

My lips tremble as his hand cups the side of my face, his thumb gently trailing over my cheekbone.

I have to swallow before I can even speak. “I’m coming off a fourteen-hundred-year dry spell, Mikey.”

Mike’s eyes go wide with shock, perhaps even terror. “Fourt— w-what?” He looks adorable, his mouth slightly open, brows drawn together in disbelief. “Two days ago… That wasn’t your first kiss, right?”

I chuckle, but not from the heart. “It was certainly the first one I was a willing participant in,” I admit bitterly. The realization bites, digging its filthy, razor-sharp claws deep into my soul. “Not that the collection of instances of the other sort is by any means impressive.”

“Every last one of those is one too many, Melot,” Mike sighs.

I can’t stand to see the pity in his eyes, so I close mine again, focusing on his scent instead.

Every member of my coven—past or present—has an odor so unique to their person that I would happily wager that I’d be able to identify them from a mile away.

With everyone else, smell certainly serves as quite the handy tool when it comes to ascertaining their intentions—hostility, for instance, reveals itself quite readily by means of a distinct and exceptionally foul sour note—or their species—vampires in this day and age always smell faintly of blood and garlic, and however cliché one might deem it, werewolves reek perpetually of wet dog.

And then there’s my own family, blood and garlic aside.

I may have known Sherlock the longest, but I know Charles the best, which is why I can say with absolute confidence that I’d recognize the dark, brooding combination of leather and smoke in my sleep. It’s luxurious and alluring, its complex sophistication undeniable, but at the same time, it’s cold, distant and uninviting. It used to be different, but what little remains of the welcoming seduction of the past, is now dull and faded.

Sherlock, on the other hand—although every bit as strong and refined—smells warm, approachable and comforting, with a very pronounced overtone of sweet vanilla—which Mike, should I ever decide to discuss this particular subject with him, would probably find very typical and likely even funny. At some point in my life, I developed the strange habit of sitting outside Sherlock’s bedroom door when I miss him, just so his scent can comfort me—he has a way of showing up whenever I do.

August and Leon share the dark, bold and spicy edge to their scents. They’re matched for sensual promiscuity, but Leon leans further into the direction of exotic rebelliousness and playful deviance. August smells… calmer. More grounded.

Marshall smells remarkably similar to Sherlock, in a way. Only he trades the sweetness for something crisper and fresher, reminiscent of pine and fresh herbs. It feels almost strangely grounded and familiar, with a quiet strength and weight to it that borders on intimidating.

And then there’s Mike. It should surprise no one that he’s the odd one out, and although I wouldn’t describe the scent as that of bubblegum and jellybeans, I wouldn’t necessarily not describe it as such. It’s a rather untidy fragrance, that has an energetic flamboyance to its almost cacophonous complexity. Touches of woods and herbs ground the otherwise discordant bouquet of lush, tropical fruits and crisp, fresh citrus, combined with a selection of floral aromas that expresses something of a delicate… femininity. It’s youthful, vibrant, playful and mischievous, and more importantly, it’s the best damned thing I’ve ever had the pleasure to smell.

 Unthinkingly, I pull Mike closer, the tip of my nose tracing a gentle path up the side of his neck as I inhale deeply, savoring not only the scent, but also his warmth, pulse, and the feeling of his skin against mine as it transitions from the smoothness down by his shoulder to the scratchy stubble of the five o’ clock shadow on his jaw I’m embarrassed to admit I find quite attractive.

My senses are so thoroughly occupied with the attempt to soak up every crumb of these new, delightful experiences that I completely forget to care even the slightest bit about the quiet moan that slips past my lips.

Mike whines impatiently in reply, and when he suddenly moves, I struggle to keep up with the innumerable sensations that wash over me in rapid succession.

His breath on my ear, the delectable feeling of his weight on top of me, the tangling of our legs, his hand at the back of my neck, and its long, slender fingers traveling over my scalp… But much more pressing—and more annoying, I might add—is my acute and absolutely insufferable awareness of the suddenly too thick, coarse and rigid denim of my jeans as it moves over my skin in all the wrong ways while we adjust our position on the bed.

Not to mention that these godforsaken trousers, which fit me perfectly and comfortably less than half an hour ago, suddenly seem too tight—an experience that wouldn’t be unique to my person in the least, if Mike wasn’t very likely completely unbothered by such atrocities sensations due to the fact that he is wearing sweatpants.

Sweatpants which, much to my dismay, contribute to my own discomfort far more than I care to admit.

That is not to say Mike is unaffected by this situation. In fact, the evidence heavily favors the contrary, and the fact that I can feel his pulse… there, in combination with the thought that that means he can probably feel mine in approximately the same location, keeps distracting me from mentally drafting the letter of complaint I wish I had sent to Levi Strauss & Co. back in the 1870s.

I have never wanted out of a pair of trousers—or any other type of garment, for that matter—this badly in my entire existence. And for all the wrong reasons, too, for crying out loud!

A displeased whimper hits my ear, and by the time it dawns on me that I was the one who made it because Mikey suddenly disappeared, an unidentifiable pile of dark grey fabric lands on my stomach.

The person who put it there is standing next to the bed, towering over me with his arms folded across his chest. It would have been intimidating, if not for the hint of a smile that peeks through the stern mask on his face.

Mike points to the bathroom. “They’re sweatpants,” he says impatiently, “go put them on. Now. Please.”

My brain cycles through countless motives and explanations, but I’m so hopelessly behind on processing the events of the past minute, that it comes up completely empty.

I must look at least half as confused as I feel, because Mike can no longer fight back his smile. “Hey, normally I’d tell you to just take the jeans off, but I don’t want us to get ahead of ourselves,” he chuckles. “If this is what it takes to keep you from violently longing to invent time travel so you can smack Jacob W. Davis and Levi Strauss over the head with a comically large wooden mallet, then…”

He makes a series of vague, impatient gestures at me, the sweatpants and in the general direction of the bathroom, all accompanied by an equally impatient and exquisitely adorable whine.

When I laugh, after deciding against telling him how cute he looks, Mike frowns, and his eyes narrow. “Mel, please,” he whines, “I really, really, really want to kiss you.”

Nervous as that makes me, I can’t deny that it’s exactly what I want too, and despite my legs feeling exceptionally uncooperative, I manage to make it to the bathroom in one piece.

I lean my shoulders against the wall, steadying myself as I attempt to regain control over myself, my chest heaving with every new breath.

The cold of the tile creeps through the fabric of my shirt with ease, grounding me.

Soothing me.

My thoughts, which are normally fairly organized, are a mess—an un-unravelable heap of pure chaos.

It’s anarchy!

Mike somehow manages to match the energy of an eight-week-old puppy attempting to herd sheep, with the exact same, very predictable and equally—if not more so—undesirable result.

And I’m the sheep.

I clamp my teeth down on my bottom lip with force until I taste blood, but the visions keep coming.

My fingers—are they mine? If they were, one would assume I would know how to get them to fucking work, correct? When I put these jeans on this morning, this wasn’t the world’s most challenging button, so why won’t it open, for God’s sake?

I swear under my breath, screwing my eyes shut as if to squeeze the last bit of focus out of my brain that way. I must, however, come to the unfortunate conclusion that I am not a tube of toothpaste.

“You’re impossible.” Mike’s voice is hoarse, his chest moves rapidly in time with his equally erratic breathing, and his long fingers close effortlessly around my wrists with punishing force. “Get these hands out of the damn way and let me help you with that.”

Apparently, his wish is my command. Or perhaps, his command is my command. Either way, my hands are out of his way in a flash.

Barely a second later, the button and zipper of this treacherous denim contraption are no longer an obstacle, and I struggle to breathe as Mike leans his forehead against mine, dipping his fingertips tentatively into the now-loosened waistband of my trousers.

He holds me firmly in place as he steps closer, grinding his hips into mine. Out of reflex, I bite down on my lip again, piercing my skin, which lures a soft whine from my throat.

Before I can do anything, Mike passes his tongue over the wound before sucking my bottom lip into his mouth, and I seem to have suddenly forgotten how to breathe altogether.

“Now,” Mike says—‘growls’ would be a more apt description, perhaps, “take these off, put the sweatpants on—or don’t. Strip completely bare-ass naked for all I care, but get in my damn bed, please.”

 Hearing my own desperate need echoed in his voice makes my heart stutter—the cruel cold or Mikey’s sudden absence makes me restless.

I rid myself of my jeans as quickly as I can, and as I exchange them for the much more comfortable sweatpants, I can’t resist the urge to squeeze my throbbing erection through the fabric, desperately attempting to fight the thought of how much I need that hand to be his instead of mine.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Mikey snarls, his voice close to my ear and the scorching heat of his body comforting me once again. “I should drag you to bed by your balls, you little tease. Why are you out here wanting all these things, when we can be doing them in there?”

I want to say something, but even if my voice were cooperating, my vocabulary certainly wouldn’t be. In the end, nothing but a pathetic whine escapes me, making Mike chuckle.

He hooks two fingers in the waistband of the sweatpants, no doubt with the intention to tug me along towards the bed, but one catches behind the band of my underwear as well, putting more of me on display than I anticipated. I know Mike well enough to expect him to take a peek—and the urgency with which he does so immediately—and I find myself thoroughly enjoying the look of utter desperation and pure carnal need on his face as he fails to fight off a crooked smile, dragging his tongue along his upper lip.

I struggle to identify the feeling that washes over me, wringing out my insides as Mike’s playful smile widens, his gaze still locked on my groin. There is a strange sense of pride to it. At the same time, waves of anticipation struggle for power against nervousness.

The longer I look at his face, the stronger the anticipation becomes. He’s cute, with his mischievous smile, fangs out as he fights off the ragged corners of the desires he knows would likely push me a tad too far at this time.

But Mike can think of six things either simultaneously or in awe-inspiringly quick succession.

“Why does it happen? The fangs?” he asks quietly, amusement poorly concealed in his tone.

My laughter rings involuntarily, the sound bouncing off the tiles, echoing in my own mind as it once again struggles to keep up with everything that’s happening. “You’ve clearly never lived in a large coven,” I chuckle. “One so powerful that hiding your nature—and teeth—becomes completely unnecessary. Our natural instinct is to have them out. Even after centuries, one must have his wits about him in order to control them, and I don’t know about yours, but mine are halfway to Argentina by now.”

Mike’s grin widens as he takes a step back, finally guiding me back to his bedroom.

When the back of my legs meet the edge of the bed, his eyes darken. “I really want to do some dirty things to you, Melmel,” he whispers. The high-pitched whine that meets my ear must be mine, and unthinkingly I chase the pathetic sound away with a scornful chuckle which, most unfortunately, is followed by a sharp gasp as Mike pulls me closer by my hips until my body is flush against his. “Will you let me?”

The art of speech eludes me still, so I nod.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” Mike says as he gently places a hand on either side of my face.

To be overcome with desire does not mean what I thought it did until now in the slightest. As soon as Mike’s lips touch mine, true desperate need comes crashing down on me, drowning out everything else.

His mouth is soft, but firm. His hands gentle as they move from my face, down my chest and stomach, to the sides of my hips, until they reach the back of my thighs. He picks me up effortlessly, of course, wrapping my legs around him before laying me down in the middle of the mattress.

Our moans effortlessly overshadow everything else that attempts to occupy my thoughts, only leaving room to experience pleasure. It’s all-consuming.

Powerful.

Cathartic, even.

Mike’s tongue licks gently at the seam of my lips, which part as if by magic to grant him entrance.

His enthusiasm is infectious, and I greedily reciprocate until…

“Fuck!” Mike pulls back, still laughing when he sticks out his tongue. It’s bleeding. “I forgot you have spare teeth.”

“I’m sorry.” I can’t bear to look at him as guilt washes over me, drowning out all the wonderful feelings from before.

“Don’t be,” he says softly, giving me a reassuring peck on the tip of my nose. “You can poke as many holes in me as you want, this just took me by surprise, that’s all.”

He presses his lips to mine again, this time with significantly more restraint—to start with, that is. Every time he rolls his hips, grinding them into mine, he loses a bit of that control.

I could say the same does not apply to me, but it would be such a blatant lie that it would be laughable at best.

When he bites my lip, he is careful not to break the skin, but the force is still enough to bruise me.

Whatever mark he leaves on me, with very few exceptions, will be gone before we’re even done here. Why does that strike me as such a tragedy?

The last remnants of Mikey’s gentle touch have disappeared now, as his fingertips dig into my shoulders, my hips, my thighs, with brutal force. It would certainly be enough to cause serious harm to someone less sturdy than either of us…

“God, I haven’t done this with another vampire in years,” Mike groans. The sound, deep, dark and dripping with lust, vibrates throughout my entire body.

I know he’s been with nymphs, shifters—were- or otherwise—and demons, and I don’t doubt that there have been many more rendezvous with many more species I haven’t the faintest clue about, but that knowledge proves to be of surprisingly little impact on this moment. “Tell me if I’m too rough with you, Mel. Please.”

Not at all, I wish to scream. I’ll take everything he’s willing to give me and more. So much more.

But I can’t seem to find my voice. Instead, I slide my hands into his shirt on a whim, dragging my nails down his back, reveling in the sense of pride and sensuality I feel as he arches to my… well, ‘touch’ would be quite the understatement, I suppose.

“Guess not, then,” he says with a devious grin as he grabs the hem of the t-shirt I just decided to ignore and pulls it over his head.

I’ve seen him without a shirt, of course. Goodness, I’ve seen him damn near naked on several occasions, but this time…

As he sits there, straddling my thighs, towering over me, my eyes wander down, taking in his broad shoulders, chest and abs. He’s lean, toned, but I wouldn’t describe him as particularly muscular. His pale skin is smooth all the way down to his navel, where my attention is captured by the thin line of dark hair that leads… down.

My hands make their way up his thighs until they rest on his hips, and without realizing, I speak. “You are so beautiful.”

I realize my error instantly, an overpowering sense of confusion surging through me as I watch Mike’s face light up.

“Yeah?” he asks excitedly as I continue my attempt to grasp why he sounds so pleased. My confusion must be apparent, because Mike laughs sweetly. “It’s okay, baby, you can call me beautiful all day, every day. Can I see if you’re pretty too?”

It clicks as soon as the word ‘pretty’ leaves his mouth, and I am suddenly overcome with the fear that he won’t see me that way while Mike fusses with the top button of my shirt.

He groans out of frustration. “Do you have any emotional attachment to this thing?” he growls almost aggressively as he grabs me by the collar of my shirt. I shake my head, once again unable to speak. “Good.”

The fabric tears almost too easily, and several buttons—four, to be exact—find their way onto the floor.

A long, desperate whine meets my ear as Mike rakes his fingers over my chest, down to my stomach, where he traces the faint line of hair with a single finger, all the way down to the waistband of my trousers, while I dig my fingers into his hips with more force than I intended. It makes Mike’s cock twitch, causing it to bump against my thumb, which lures a sharp gasp from me.

Mike reacts to it and the expression that has appeared on my face in the meantime without my knowledge, and certainly without my consent.

“Okay,” he taunts, “my pretty boy wants to play in the big leagues then?”

Despite my nerves, I find myself nodding in reply to his question, attempting once again to swallow the tightness in my throat away.

Mike kisses me, softly but enthusiastically—and most importantly: repeatedly—as he lies down next to me. Heat rises to my cheeks as he flashes me that goofy smile of his.

I was always under the impression that I found that smile particularly annoying. I guess I was wrong.

The one hand that is still on his hip relentlessly attempts to capture my attention, begging me to acknowledge its proximity to the part of Mike that currently has my imagination spinning completely out of control, but I can’t allow myself to comply with its demands just yet. Lord knows I’ll be swiftly rid of any ability to speak, which would be… unfortunate, to say the least.

Not that that particular ability isn’t greatly impaired to begin with, but we needn’t tempt fate further, I would say.

“I’ll be happy to tell you anything you want to know, Melot,” Mike whispers softly as he moves closer to me. It’s the strange fish-on-dry-land-esque performance attached to it that makes me laugh—and much louder than I had intended, too. In fact, I had no intention to laugh at all…

I snap my mouth shut and look away. Surely, my cheeks must be so red they are in fact aglow right now, mustn’t they?

Mike groans loudly, which twists the uncomfortable knot in my stomach, greatly worsening the unwelcome tightness I was already feeling.

To say I am in no way prepared for his words, would be an understatement.

“Mel, dude, Melmel, babe, Melly, my good sir,” he sighs, “where were you when they sent out the memo that this”—he gestures wildly at the both of us—“all of this, like… sex, is supposed to be fun?”

“Well, I—” Just hearing him describe what we’re doing as ‘sex’ brings forward a host of emotions I can either not identify or desperately wish I couldn’t, and it certainly helps my nerves in no imaginable way.

“Like, babygirl, I get it,” he continues, as I try to prevent having to invent a new shade of red to describe the color my cheeks will turn after this one, “you’re nervous. You’ve never done this. You’ve been told not to do this, with… well, pretty much anyone but definitely not another dude—which I’m sure will come back to bite you in that sweet little butt of yours, and we’ll deal with that fall-out together. But if we’re doing this, I need you to lighten up, okay?”

“But… How?” In my entire existence, I have never struggled to speak two simple words the way I did just now.

“For starters, there are two people here who I’m going to need you to not take too seriously,” he says matter-of-factly. “The first one is me, which is already true for… most scenarios outside of this one, I’d say. And the second one is you. You’re allowed to laugh, okay?”

The way he nips at the tip of my nose makes it impossible not to laugh. “Good boy,” Mike muses as I struggle to figure out why it feels so good to hear him say those words.

Without thinking about it, mostly for fear of discouraging myself, I wrap my free arm around him, pulling him tightly against me as I kiss him.

The added pressure of my arm against the small of his back is not enough to satisfy my need, so I boldly and unthinkingly lower my hand until it cups half of Mike’s backside.

Despite my lacking intentions to lose control of myself like this, I find myself feverishly grasping him, pulling him even closer as I dig my fingers into the flesh of his rear.

It’s surprisingly soft, yet surprisingly firm, and I find myself surprisingly eager to explore it further—the whole situation would best be described as, well… surprising, really, and Mike’s ardent whimpering tells me that he is not at all inclined to put an end to my endeavors.

Due to my sudden preoccupation with Mikey’s lovely behind, I am almost robbed of awareness of the fantastic experience of Mike, gently but greedily sliding his hands into my pants as he gently sucks my bottom lip into his mouth.

My grip around his waist slacks as he pulls his face back, still holding my lip firmly between his teeth, and he cocks an eyebrow at me, giving me the courage to mimic his movements.

For a moment, I am surprised to find that Mike is not wearing underwear, and then I remember who I’m in bed with. I’m not saying I should have expected this, but to pretend it’s in any way uncharacteristic, would be a lie.

His skin is smooth and warm, and the salacious moan he lets out catches in his throat, where it morphs into a gasp as my lips seek out his neck.

The urge to bite is strong, and I already know he wouldn’t mind, so…

“Fuck, Mel,” he moans sweetly as I bite down, effortlessly piercing his skin again and again, until his neck and shoulders are littered with marks.

Mike reaches behind his back, grabbing my wrist in order to drag my hand away from his ass, and towards the front of his sweatpants, where his erection strains against the fabric.

He presses my palm against the sizeable bulge while he begs me to bite him again, and I find myself more than happy to oblige.

A chuckle rolls off my tongue as soon as my teeth connect with his skin, and I softly squeeze his twitching cock, which draws the sweetest whimpers from Mike’s gorgeous lips.

“Mel, please,” he whispers, barely managing to squeeze the words out in between soft swearing and labored breaths as he puts his hand over mine and slowly slides it down his hip, into the front of his sweatpants. “I… I need you to…”

 My voice is barely more than a breath as I stammer my concerns about my nerves, lack of experience and the fact that I haven’t a clue what to do.

“Doesn’t matter,” Mikey whispers in reply, “just touch me. Please.”

 Heat rises to my cheeks again as I desperately attempt to resist the urge to pull my hand back and flee the room. “I-I really don’t know what… how…”

Mike lets out a whine that is a mix between impatience and complete and utter frustration. “What do you mean you don’t know? You have one of these, what do you do with that one?”

Lying to him now would probably not be in my best interest, so I ignore the ever-increasing temperature of my face when I tell him: “I, eh… I don’t really, ehh…”

“Mas-tur-bate,” Mike says with a smile. “Jack off. Jerk off. Beat your meat. Tickle your pickle. Flog your log. I can come up with dozens of these, but I think you got the point. But, like… ever?”

I shrug, fighting the resistance of Mike’s hand against my shoulder as I try to hide my face from him. “Not never, but…”

 “We can stop, if you want?” Mike says carefully, even though we both know that’s the very last thing I desire right now. “Or take a little step back?”

I shake my head surprisingly decisively. “I want to try,” I whisper. “I want to make you feel good.”

Mike leans closer to me, bringing his lips up to my ear. “Try again,” he says, the amusement in his voice clear as day, because once again he knows as well as I do that I’m not voicing my true desire.

In truth, I’m burning with violent need, and I am utterly bewildered that it’s even possible to feel nervous enough to overshadow that feeling. Yet here we are…

A low growl escapes me completely involuntarily. “I want to hear you moan and feel you squirm in my arms,” I snarl with more vigor than I originally intended. “And I want it to be because of me.”

His sweet moan, right in my ear, makes me tingle all over, and I barely manage to choke back a whimper of my own.

“Mel, please,” Mikey pleads with me again, “stop overthinking and just grab my d—”

He’s forced to end his sentence with a strangled, high-pitched noise that makes me chuckle as I wrap my fingers around his length.

He presses his forehead against mine as I cup the side of his face with my free hand, trailing my thumb lightly over his cheekbone.

The softest whimper stumbles past his slightly parted lips, and I gladly give in to the urge to touch them as well, savoring the feeling of Mikey’s hot breath against my fingertip.

When his tongue darts out, I take my own lip between my teeth, biting down as he sensually sucks my thumb into his mouth. I admire his confidence as he stares straight into my eyes—into my soul—as he does so.

Slowly, he rolls his hips, thrusting carefully into my hand.

His jaw tightens, and every sound he makes, escapes from behind gritted teeth—the way he’s grinding them almost makes more noise than he does, which I have to admit I find quite bothersome.

“Why are you holding back?” I ask quietly, as I attempt to silence the part of my mind that tells me I must be doing something wrong.

“Because I still can,” he admits reluctantly.

So I am doing s—

“You’re not doing anything wrong,” he says, smiling devilishly as he shimmies out of his sweatpants a bit further. “But truth be told, it’s missing something, eh…”

I patiently wait for him to continue, listening to the whiny noises he makes in protest as I don’t do him the courtesy of pausing the apparently good-but-missing-something handjob I was giving him. Mike is adorable when he gets flustered, and I am more than happy to be responsible for the rosy color on his cheeks.

“Fine,” he grumbles, giving in to his desires at last. “Top drawer of the nightstand. There’s a bottle, you really can’t miss it.”

I venture to retrieve the bottle. It’s… A chuckle escapes without warning as I read the label. “Mikey, why do you own cotton candy flavored lubricant?”

“Because it doesn’t come in jelly bean flavor,” Mike says casually before bringing my attention back to the—pardon me—task at hand. “Don’t be stingy with the stuff, I like it wet.”

Rather than simply not being quite sure what to do—or how much lubricant is an appropriate amount, since I’ve never used anything like it before—I am suddenly overcome with anxiety over the fact that I am now forced to look what I’m doing.

Slowly, I lower my gaze, taking in all of Mike’s body I can along the way. I barely notice how my fangs pierce my lip again when I bite down as my eyes reach their destination.

Mike snatches the bottle from my hand and kindly helps me out by pouring some of the liquid in my hand. My curiosity gets the better of me, and I bring my hand to my mouth, quickly dipping my tongue in the small pool of fluid in my palm.

Unsurprisingly, it’s extremely sweet.

Mike spends this time glaring at me, impatiently squirming and making his displeasure known through a series of whimpers, not stopping until I wrap my hand around his cock again.

As soon as I do, a serene smile spreads across his face, and he sighs while I proceed to coat his member with the slippery substance on my hand.

“Better?” I ask him.

He nods, resting his forehead against mine again. “Fuck yes.”

Apparently, the only thing Mike thinks will stop him from becoming excessively loud now, is crushing his mouth to mine and kissing me like his life depends on it.

His hips move erratically as he thrusts almost frantically into my hand while moans, grunts and desperate whimpers stumble from his mouth into mine.

After some time, I feel his hand close around mine, guiding my grip and the rhythm of my strokes while the fingers of his other hand dig into my back nearly hard enough to draw blood.

He swears, softly at first, but becoming louder as he loses more and more of his restraint.

Even with a vision providing me with advance knowledge of what is going to happen—which is technically so predictable that I should have been able to come up with it myself—I am unprepared for the moment his orgasm arrives.

In hindsight, aiming might have been a good idea, but I honestly couldn’t think of a better place for his release than my stomach.

“Sorry for the mess,” Mike pants against my lips. I can feel the lazy smile on his face in the way his mouth moves against my skin. “Can I help you clean that up?”

The implication in the devilish question sends a jolt of electricity down my spine, and before I can answer, Mike has pressed his lips to my neck, marking the beginning of a slow, teasing descent downward with a playful bite.

As he moves down my body, he turns me onto my back, leaving me helplessly mesmerized by the sight of this gorgeous man making his way down my chest, licking and sucking at my skin every chance he gets.

The feeling is absolutely unmatched by anything I have ever felt before in my life, and I can’t hold back any of the sounds that well up in my throat of their own volition.

The enthusiasm with which Mike licks his own semen off my abdomen is almost awe inspiring, and I watch him closely, barely aware of the fact that my mouth hangs open, which I’m sure must make me look like a complete and utter fool.

When he finishes his task, he shoots a glance up at me in which lies a burning question, and without thinking, I nod in reply.

Eager hands drag down my trousers and pants until my cock springs free, and for a moment, panic takes hold of me. With some effort, I remember the look on Mike’s face when he was ‘accidentally’—if one chooses to believe it was an accident, which I can’t bring myself to do—presented with an opportunity to look at my erection.

The image manages to calm me down fairly effectively.

My reaction when Mike carefully drags the tip of his tongue along the full length of my cock is admittedly quite embarrassing, but I try not to dwell on that thought, electing instead to enjoy the incredible new sensations brought to me by Mike’s mouth.

“So sensitive,” he muses quietly, trailing a teasing finger lightly down the same trajectory as his tongue. “And so pretty.”

I barely manage to resist the urge to cry out in frustration as Mike abandons my member and instead kisses my stomach, hips and thighs, putting his lips absolutely everywhere but where I so desperately want them.

His hands tease me: playful, eager fingers travel up and down my sides with the lightest touch, threatening to drive me completely beside myself with lustful yearning.

“Please!” The word barely makes it out, my voice so strangled I momentarily wonder if Mike even understood me—his devious chuckle confirming that he did.

In the pit of my stomach, pressure simmers. A pressure I probably should have familiarized myself with a lot more over the past fourteen centuries, but it’s recognizable enough as is.

There is no doubt in my mind that Mikey would succeed in bringing me to orgasm without laying another finger—or any other part of his body—directly on my cock.

Shame heats up my cheeks once again as I am forced to admit that, quite frankly, I’m about to burst.

And it is precisely this moment in which Mike decides that the best course of action is to swallow my whole length down to the root.

It's the hideously arrogant raising of that miserable eyebrow of his that ends up dragging me over the edge, and without any warning, I spill my seed into his mouth.

If dying of embarrassment was a possibility, I would have done it dozens, if not hundreds of times over the course of my existence, but none of those instances could hold a candle to what I’m feeling in this moment.

I could positively die of shame.

Mike, however, seems to be completely unfazed by the circumstances. It’s typical, of course, but it’s also infuriating.

“Hey,” he whispers softly, smoothing a hand over my hair. “Don’t feel bad. Come on…”

The next moment, he’s next to the bed, holding out a hand.

“Shower time, Melmel,” he muses happily.

I follow him in silence. Even as he strips me of the pants I put back on before making my way over to the bathroom, or when he ushers me into the shower stall, or when he sweetly and gently caresses me all over to rinse off the remnants of our relations, I remain quiet.

Until we are back in the room, and Mike dives under the covers, leaving me standing there…

“I… Mike, I think I should g—”

“Yeah, that is, like, so not happening,” Mike says, rushing towards me with alarming speed. “You are staying, and that’s an order. Besides, we’re just getting to my favorite part.”

“Didn’t we just do your favorite part?” I ask, my voice thick with bewilderment.

“Ask our girl,” Mike chuckles. “I’m a little cuddle monster.”

He takes both of my hands in his and gently attempts to pull me along. “Back to bed, now.”

I can’t seem to move, other than the involuntary shiver that travels through my body when Mike suddenly appears behind me, pressing his smiling lips to my neck and grabbing my behind. “Are you going to listen to me, or do I have to spank my pretty boy?”

I’m not proud of the way his words bring my cock back to life, but I can’t bring myself to be embarrassed about it, either, even when Mike chuckles devilishly in my ear.

“Was it ‘pretty boy’ or ‘spank’ that’s making this happen?” he asks as he gently palms my stiffening cock.

“Both,” I admit surprisingly willingly. “And ‘my’ might have had something to do with it as well.”

“Do you want to go another round?” Mike asks carefully, no doubt to attempt to hide the heady edge to his voice, as if his growing desire isn’t literally poking me in the back right now.

“I thought you wanted to cuddle,” I whisper, gritting my teeth so as not to moan loudly as my erection pushes more and more firmly against Mike’s hand. Thank God, he’s keeping it still, otherwise I would be completely lost.

 “I do,” he whines. “But look what you did to me!” He grinds his cock against my ass. It feels heavenly, as does the feeling of Mike’s breath on my neck as he chuckles when my cock twitches against his palm.

This time, I allow him to push me towards the bed again, and when we reach it, I don’t protest when he bends me over—at first.

Panic briefly washes over me as I think about what he might do to me, but I trust him. I know he would never attempt anything beyond my boundaries, so I relax again, leaning into his touch as his fingers close around my length again.

He strokes me in time with the movement of his hips against my ass as he thrusts slowly between my cheeks, pushing his cock down with his other hand.

When Mike disappears, I whine at the loss, and I try to right myself to see where he’s gone, but his hand, firmly pressing down on the small of my back, stops me. The drawer of the bedside table opens and closes, and the top of a bottle clicks. Moments later, Mikey’s hand, now slick with lubricant, closes around my cock again.

His other hand—now also quite sticky—hooks around my thigh, pulling me back a few steps to give him more space to work with, and I moan in delight as I feel my ass hit his hips again.

Mike gently shushes me, squeezing my ass in a strangely reassuring way when the feeling of his hands running down between my cheeks has me worried for a second. “Don’t worry,” he says calmly. “Just wanted a little less friction.”

I must admit, it feels even better this way. For him, too, if the higher speed of his thrusts and increasing volume of his moans are any indication.

When Mike plants a firm kiss on my spine, between my shoulder blades, I can’t fight back a loud moan as I relish the feeling of his weight on top of me. At the same time, I am terribly disappointed when he stops moving his hips.

“I want to try something, okay?” Mike says. His hand stops moving too, and much to my displeasure, it disappears altogether barely a second later. The only redeeming aspect to this unwelcome behavior, is the trail of sloppy, wet kisses Mike leaves down my back.

I resist the urge to swat him in the head when he sinks his teeth into my rear, and I heal the wound immediately in protest.

Mike, in all his silly, playful Mike-ness, retaliates by making another mark, which I treat in the same manner.

We go back and forth like that for a minute, until Mike growls in frustration. “You’re so fucking lucky you’re cute, Melmel.”

I can hear the pout in his voice, and a grin appears on my face as I spread my legs for Mike without thinking when he moves to grab my cock again, this time by reaching between my legs.

His arm hooks around my hips, holding me in place, and I barely get a second to wonder why.

Mike was more than right to hold me down, because when the tip of his warm, wet tongue touches the tight ring of muscle—

“Mike!” I hiss angrily while I squirm against his solid grasp. That… place has been an exit only for fourteen hundred years, and if he thinks—

A soft kiss on my bottom eases my surging anger. “Put down the pitchfork,” Mike muses, “I just want to touch you. Well… eat you. Give it an honest chance, please? If you don’t like it, you don’t like it, but I think you should try it.”

Mike certainly has a way of inciting one’s curiosity… I take a deep breath before nodding decisively, accompanying the gesture—which Mike can’t see—with an affirmative hum.

Mike continues to stroke me while his tongue gently laps at my puckered hole.

When Mike made his plea, I never pictured a scenario in which I would enjoy this, but to my shame, I must admit that the sensation is quite pleasant. Perhaps a bit more than ‘quite’.

Alright, it feels nothing short of absolutely heavenly! That doesn’t mean I am quite ready to admit that, thank you very much.

Unfortunately, Mike seems to get plenty of confirmation from the way my hips involuntarily move in time with his tongue, rather than his hand.

In fact, after a while, he abandons stroking my cock altogether, using both hands to spread my ass cheeks so he can gain better access to my hole.

I occupy my own hands by pressing a pillow firmly against my face, while crying a continues stream of moans and the occasional expletive into it, and when Mike tentatively passes a fingertip over the tight ring of muscle, I find myself begging him to continue.

“Is this something you want now, or something you know you’ll want in the future?” His tone lets me know there is only one answer he will accept, and it’s not the one I think I want it to be now.

I desperately cry out into the pillow, wanting to voice my protest but finding no words, and I turn onto my back rather dramatically while Mike skillfully dodges my legs.

He remains where he is, raising himself up on his knees so he can lay his head on my hip. The sweet smile on his face as he looks up at me annoys me greatly, and I put the pillow over my face again and scream, before glaring down at him as I prop myself up on my elbows.

“If you’re not going to do to me what you know I think I want you to do to me but don’t yet, then at the very least do to me what we both know I’m incredibly amenable to you doing to me,” I growl.

Mike chuckles. “That almost sounds like you’re asking me to blow you,” he teases.

On a whim, I sit up. With the fingers of one hand twisted into his curls, I pull his head off my thigh.

Mike’s swallows audibly, his eyes wide as he stares up at me. My jaw tightens as he bites his lip, and I cock an eyebrow at him, silently asking my question.

He responds by nodding furiously, and when I attempt to pull my hand back, he grabs my wrist.

With unwavering enthusiasm, he pours some more lubricant on me before getting to work, coating my whole length using both of his hands.

It feels divine, and without thinking I ball my hands into fists to prevent myself from swearing.

Mike lets out a long, sweet moan, leaning into my touch as I unintentionally pull his hair, the noise making me all the more disinclined to relax my grip.

He looks up at me, that godforsaken eyebrow taunting me, and the rest of his face guilty of the exact same thing. He’s clearly testing my patience—and to my surprise, I find that I quite like that.

Stil, no matter how much I enjoy his defiance, my annoyance is real and intense enough to be a leading factor in my behavior.

“You know what I want,” I groan, putting pressure on the back of Mikey’s head, urging his mouth closer to its desired location.

His eyes narrow, and his lips pull into an insufferable smirk as he continues to work my length with both hands, and I attempt to keep my composure while the urge to smack that grin off his face surges to previously undiscovered heights.

 Mike’s reaction has me staring at him in shock, his yearnful moan dying down as soon as he sees my face, and his expression morphing into something completely different that has his ears and cheeks turning red in a staggering tempo. It’s…

“So sweet,” I mutter as I loosen my grip on his hair and run my fingers over his scalp in circles. “Be good for me, my love. Let me feel that beautiful mouth.”

When he looks up at me again after pressing a sweet, brief kiss to the underside of my tip, the color on his cheeks has deepened.

I am unsure of the reasons behind the effect it has on me, and right now, I could frankly not care even a hair less.

He’s still challenging me, but the shy approach makes it endearing rather than infuriating. I can’t even convince myself fully that he’s putting on an act: He’s never been particularly good at hiding his true feelings.

Before we started this—all of it, from the very first kiss onward—I never would have imagined that I’d see myself in control of any of this. I pictured myself, completely at the mercy of Mike and his fickle whims. No vision I had could have prepared me for this.

For this sense of agency, and of… dominance.

For the overwhelming sense of pride, and the much more intense yearning for this sweet, eager boy between my knees than I had ever imagined possible.

“Sweet, precious Mikey,” I sigh as he delivers the smallest lick to the tip of my cock. A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth as I watch him squirm beneath me. My best guess is that I’m not the only one who enjoys being called sweet things.

Where I find the words, and how on Earth I suddenly manage to not only use my voice but also seem to accurately remember fourteen centuries worth of English—though it would be remiss not to acknowledge that I never really caught on to the last two centuries or so—is beyond me, but the fact of the matter is that I do.

Words of encouragement flow freely from my lips as I gently nudge Mike’s head forward. “Wrap those pretty lips around me, sweetheart. I know you want to,” I say softly. “I’ll be so proud of you.” Mike whines, staring up at me with big, innocent eyes. “Be a good boy for me, Mikey. You’d make me so happy.”

Strangely, though the only thing missing from my words are the ones that would make this an outright plea, I don’t feel like I’m begging whatsoever, nor do I feel like I’m somehow pressuring Mike into doing something he doesn’t want to do.

Due to my lacking experience, I should be lacking every shred of confidence I feel, shouldn’t I? I shouldn’t feel so at peace with this, I—

My doubts die a swift, magnificent death the second Mike wraps his lips around my throbbing erection, and I soon find myself completely bewitched by the sight of him as he works more of my length into his mouth.

He’s dropped one hand into his own lap, and the other soon moves to my thigh, where his fingers dig into my flesh every time he goes down. With every stroke, he takes me deeper, until I’m fully seated in his mouth.

When his throat tightens around me briefly, it startles me, and I involuntarily move my hips, forcing Mike to withdraw, sputtering and struggling to breathe.

I, in turn, gasp for air when he spits on my cock. There’s something wildly erotic to it, and to the thin thread of saliva that runs from my tip to the center of his bottom lip.

“Keep going, beautiful,” I gasp. In no way am I too proud to admit that I’m positively aching to feel his lips around me again. “You’re doing so well. You’re such a good boy.”

Mike whimpers, briefly moving the hand with which he’s pleasuring himself quicker, before leaning forward again.

Emboldened by his enthusiasm, I put light pressure on the back of his head and gently thrust my hips forward.

His eyes open wide, and he moans desperately. The vibration created by the sound feels heavenly around my cock, and I push my hips forward again, luring another moan from Mike’s throat.

“Do you… like that?” I ask hesitantly. Surely, it’s better to be safe than sorry in these situations?

Mike hums a vigorous confirmation, his brows drawing together in a deep frown when I ask him—superfluously, apparently—if he wants me to stop.

On instinct, I move closer to the edge of the bed, tightening my grip on Mike’s hair as I thrust forward again—and again… and again.

Soon, there are tears in Mikey’s eyes, and instead of being overwhelmed by guilt, I simply can’t stop thinking about how beautiful he looks—and how incredibly impressed I am with his achievements.

Now, I am hardly under the impression that I have a particularly intimidating manhood where size is concerned, but I would happily place myself somewhat above average without adding any inches for vanity, and on top of that, I’m hardly being as gentle with Mike as I probably should be, thus, I consider my amazement justified.

Mike announces his approaching climax through a series of delectable moans and an increase in the pace at which he sucks me off, his movements stopping exactly when I’m teetering on the edge of orgasm myself.

He pulls back, until the tip of my cock rests on his tongue, and with a few strokes, he seals the deal.

I bite down on my lip while I watch as several thick ropes of my release coat his tongue, the visual so wildly arousing that I briefly worry I will never find anything else even remotely enticing ever again.

“Show me.” I mouth the words, unable to find my voice, as I trail my thumb lightly along Mike’s bottom lip. Audible or not, my words seem to light a devious little fire under him, and after heeding my request, he promptly raises himself up, supporting himself with his hands on my thighs.

My breath catches in my throat, and I swallow hard as Mike leans forward, pressing his lips to mine with vigor.

I’m sure I’ll have plenty of time to be disgusted with myself and my behavior later, but right now I want nothing more than to taste myself on Mike’s tongue—I get slightly more than I bargained for when I open my mouth and feel my thick salty seed flow from Mike’s mouth into mine.

At first, I can’t bring myself to swallow, resisting the urge to spit until an idea takes root in my brain.

I can see the apology on Mike’s lips, but before he speaks, I put him on his back on the mattress, taking a moment to rake my eyes over his chest and abs.

Without wasting any time, I lick the evidence of his orgasm off his stomach, and straddle his hips, bringing my nose to his.

There’s no need for further provocation: Mike opens his mouth, sticking out his tongue so I can deliver on my silent promise.

This should feel disgusting. By pretty much any standard, but most of all mine—or rather; the ones that have been pounded into me over the years, either figuratively or, if I was particularly unfortunate, literally.

Instead, a serenity that borders on a sense of heavenly bliss washes over me while Mike and I go back and forth spitting a combination of our semen and saliva into each other’s mouths…

I—

Mike chuckles and falls back to the mattress, taking a moment to catch his breath before pulling me down on top of him. “If I came in while you were trying to watch a movie and I randomly spit a fat load of cum in your mouth, you probably wouldn’t appreciate that,” he says. His words seem so out of place that at first, I struggle to wrap my head around them, until I realize I must have looked… I couldn’t tell you how I looked, exactly, but my face must have expressed my thoughts in a way that prompted Mikey to launch into an explanation. “Welcome to your first ‘it seemed like a good idea at the time’-moment. It won’t be the last.”

“That doesn’t dispute the accusation that it was, in fact, disgusting. At all,” I mutter against the skin of his neck, hiding my scorching—and therefore probably beet-red—face from him.

Mike sits up again, wrapping his arms around my waist as he does, pulling me even closer. “Melmel… Sex is kinda disgusting. And embarrassing.” He punctuates his words with small kisses to my shoulder and neck. “And sticky, and sweaty, and messy.”

“You might want to put a positive spin on this,” I grumble. “Soon.”

“The point is,” he replies, pulling my head off his shoulder and holding it in both hands so that I’m forced to look at him. “When you’re with the right people, none of that matters.”

One look into his eyes, and I know…

“Well, I’m glad I’m with the right people then,” I murmur, leaning in for another kiss.

When Mike breaks away, he suggests we take another shower, and I’m hardly inclined to decline the offer. He wasn’t exactly lying about ‘sticky’ and ‘sweaty’ in his list of less-than-ideal side effects to sexual relations.

This time, Mike is the one that goes strangely quiet while we clean ourselves—and, both notably and regrettably, not each other—up.

“Mikey?” I ask carefully. “What’s wrong?”

My heart breaks when Mike drops to the floor, suddenly sobbing uncontrollably, crawling back into the corner and sitting there with his arms locked around his knees, vigorously shaking his head in reply to my question.

“Mike,” I say sternly as my attempts to pluck him off the floor fail miserably. I do, however, manage to pull him off the wall just far enough that I can sit down behind him, and when I lock my legs around him, he knows he won’t be going anywhere, so he gives in to my touch. “You will talk to me.”

When he moves again, I let him, both knowing that he might be a fool, but not such a big one that he expects to be able to run from me, and knowing—vision-wise—he won’t try. He simply wants to turn the shower head our way because he’s cold.

He sits down in my lap, and I wrap my arms tightly around him, waiting patiently until he feels ready to speak about what’s going on with him.

Another deep, shaky breath, and he starts talking: “This just took a turn… And you’re so new to all of this, I never thought… I should have… But I couldn’t have known, so… And everything was going well, and it was all good, and I was teasing you and so stoked to be showing you all these new, wonderful things and… And then things got turned around, somehow… and suddenly you were… you… And I… I…”

I let him cry for a while, just holding him, tucking him tightly against my chest as I smooth my hands over his back and sides, repeating the phrase ‘shh, it’s okay’ more times than I care to admit because I simply can’t come up with anything else.

After a while, his breathing steadies, and the sobbing comes to an end. “I’m sorry,” he says, clearing his throat. “Not in a ‘I have something to apologize for’ kind of way, but more like… ‘I feel bad for dumping this on you all of a sudden’ kind of way.”

“That’s alright,” I reply truthfully. “All I want is to take care of you and to make you feel better.”

Mike laughs through the last of his tears. “That’s great,” he says, “because you’re going to have to.”

“Just tell me how,” I say. “And, if at all possible, try to explain why?”

“Right,” Mike says on a slightly embarrassed chuckle. “First off, I shouldn’t have let this happen. Like…” He throws his head back and lets out a frustrated cry. “Okay. During that blowjob just now—I don’t blame you if you didn’t even notice, but…”

“I remember suddenly feeling far more… in charge?” I blurt out before I can stop myself.

Mike nods almost enthusiastically. “I really wouldn’t have blamed you—you looked pretty overstimulated—but, damn, I’m glad you noticed. Eh, long story short, you ended up Domming me—dominating, I mean, like… the kinky kind. And you were really good at it, too! So no worries about that, okay? But I should have stopped you, because I know I’m quick to slip into subspace—I’ll explain that later—and it was stupid… well, a little naïve, I guess, of me to think it wouldn’t happen, and…” He takes a moment to catch his breath, and I rub his back while he does.

“A little longer,” I say calmly when he tries to continue his story. My visions are exceptionally helpful in this type of situation, and I don’t want Mike to start hyperventilating.

“Thanks,” he says sincerely after a few more deep breaths. “The… I just… I freaked out because I need someone to take care of me—you, to be specific—but I should be the one taking care of you after your first time… Things just got a little messy.”

“Is there any reason we can’t be taking care of each other?” I ask, taking a moment to think about my own needs at this time. The very first one is for Mikey to feel better. “I think that, after this shower, I would like to watch a movie in bed, and stay very, very close to you.”

“Yeah,” Mike sighs happily. “That works for me.”

When we finish our shower, I dry myself off quickly, only to find Mike still standing next to me, soaking wet, when I’m done. He hesitantly holds his towel out to me.

“Please take care of me,” he mumbles, his voice small and soft. He’s avoiding eye contact, biting his lip and constantly shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“I never want you to be afraid to ask me that, Mike,” I say slowly, enunciating every word carefully as I take the towel from him.

There’s something wonderful about this. I dry every part of Mike’s gorgeous body with extreme care. When I first resist the urge to press my lips to his skin, Mike laughs.

“You can still kiss me, Melot,” he muses. “Actually, I’d really like it if you did.”

At that moment, things finally connect in my head. “You need to feel loved.”

“Yeah,” Mike says, nodding slowly. “Put bluntly, I need to know you see me as more than the piece of meat you throatfucked back there.”

Before I can respond, he continues: “I know you don’t see me that way! I mean, maybe you did when you—”

“I was mostly very impressed with your skills,” I admit reluctantly. It’s my turn to blush once again. At least we’re both suffering that terrible affliction this time.

“Thanks,” he says with a smile. “Decades of practice.”

“I think you have put in more hours than most people your age,” I joke before nipping at the tip of his nose.

Mike glares at me. “Well, apparently I have put in more hours than some people your age, so…”

“Hey!” I stick my tongue out at him. “Stop bullying me, or I will—”

“Whatever you say next,” Mike interjects quickly, “never threaten to skip aftercare. Just… little PSA, I guess.”

“Oh, I was simply going to suggest we put on an episode of Downton Abbey and I point out all the historical inaccuracies,” I say plainly.

Mike shudders. “That would actually be worse…”

Mere seconds after we finally get settled in bed, there’s a knock on the door—of course, a few seconds after that, there’s an actual knock on the door. One that isn’t a figment of my… Well, I suppose both ‘figment’ and ‘imagination’ would be inaccurate.

Still, Mike and I look at each other, neither of us in any way inclined to actually see whose unfortunate timing we’re dealing with.

“Melot, can I see you for a second?” It’s Marshall.

Even though I’m wearing pants, I scramble to find the nearest pair of sweatpants and put them on—after Mike gives it a quick inspection. Quick thinking on his part, I must admit.

When I open the door, I open it wide enough to speak to Marshall, but not so wide that he can look into the room.

It makes him chuckle. “I’ve seen him in much worse states than simply naked,” he muses, but doesn’t otherwise protest the minimal state of ajar-ness of the door. “August and I thought you could use this.” He holds out a tray. One side is loaded with snacks—cheese, fruit, crackers… the lack of jellybeans might disappoint Mike—while the other side holds two bottles of water, glasses, and a pitcher of strawberry lemonade—Mike’s favorite. “Keep him warm and hydrated. And see if he wants to eat something. He’ll say he’s not hungry, but… Take care of him, okay?”

“I will,” I promise as I let go of the door to take the tray from Marshall. As soon as I do, someone—must be Mike—yanks the door open. He narrowly misses me as he practically jumps into Marshall’s arms.

“Thank you,” Mike mutters as Marshall hugs him tight to his chest, indeed  not caring that Mike is still very much completely nude. “I love you.”

“I know,” Marshall replies with a somber smile. “I love you too. Always have, always will. Go be with your… boyfriend?”

“Official status TBD,” Mike chuckles as he releases Marshall from his grasp. “But at the very least I think we can say we’re hooking up.”

“Well, whatever the case, take care of each other. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He disappears before either of us can say another word, so we take the food inside and close the door behind us again, making sure to lock it as well.

“What happened between you two?” I ask carefully as we get comfortable under the covers.

Mike shrugs. “Nothing happened. It’s like… We’re as close as we’ve always been, just in a different way. We could never be in a monogamous relationship with each other, that would be weird, for some reason, but with Sweetcheeks in the mix, some old stuff has been coming back, and we’re figuring that out. Not in a very proactive way, I have to admit.” He picks a cube of cheese off the plate.

“So I might have to share you with another person, then?” I ask, jokingly poking at his ribs. The thought should devastate me. Shred my insides like a swarm of angry wasps is wreaking havoc on them.

Instead, I feel completely calm.

“I’m a bottomless pit of love,” Mike says with his mouth already full—yet he stuffs three more cubes of cheese and a few slices of cured sausage in there.

“You know, there’s fruits and vegetables on this plate, right?” I say when he swallows the obscene amount of food—which I’m sure he considered ‘a bite’.

“Fine, you have discovered the limits of my affection,” he jokes. “Hey!”

The first grape I chuck at his face bounces off his forehead, and I catch it before it hits the plate again. On the second try, Mike catches it in his mouth.

The third lands directly in his lap—I can’t seem to come to an agreement with myself as to whether or not that happened on purpose, but I happily put the situation to good use by retrieving the rogue fruit with my mouth, not neglecting to press a teasing kiss to Mikey’s soft cock.

“No,” he warns me, drawing out the ‘o’ as he shakes his head. “I mean… Yes! But no.”

For a moment—one of the kind that sets your soul alight and seems to last forever—we just smile at each other as we stare into each other’s eyes.

In my entire existence, I have never felt as safe as I do now.

Or as loved.

Or as at home.

Or as at peace.

“You were right,” I whisper after a while, as I let go of my fears, and my doubts, and my past.

Just for now.

And for him.

Only for him.

“I’m entirely unsurprised,” he chuckles. “But, eh… what about?”

I swallow hard before looking him right in the eye.

“I like boys.”

[eccentricallygothic]

I like older men but I woke up in a mood today so I thought which younger!bf would be best for this and then it occured to me that I've never done Hellraiser!Mike so… MDNI.

– You like to underestimate Mike as an authoritative figure, it doesn't help him that he's younger than you. 

– Of course, he's still at least twice your size.

– So fucking cheeky when you try to boss him but he's towering over you like a giant. 

– You try your oh-so-best to wear the pants in the relationship. Or at least you pretend to because… fake it till you make it, right?

– He's smug enough that he did get to go out with you and have you after all despite your initial reluctance, this is not something you are just gonna let him have.

– Mike lets you have fun with it because why not? He's a chill guy and doesn't care for toxic masculinity. 

– He adores you too much to flat out disagree with you on basically anything.

– But the moment you're putting yourself in harm's way or not taking care of yourself, you best believe a mystery disk clicks into him. 

– Maybe it's really cold out one day but you don't want to go home just yet. Your nose and cheeks are so red despite all the layers Mike has put on you that your face is becoming more and more like a tomato by the second. 

– Mike's reproachful hand is soft and yet firm in how it falls on your shoulder. 

– “We are going home.” 

– Ever the brat, you roll your eyes. “No, we're not.”

– “But we are” and he's already pulling you towards the car with little to no effort despite the heavy snow clinging to your boots. 

– “Ugh, stop it, you brute!” Your gloved hands try to claw at his sturdy chest and flush cheeks. 

– “I clearly know better here, so...” He opens the door for you and then nods towards it. “Get in.” 

– “Pfft, no, you don't!” You always like to insist. And yet your cheeks burn hot in the cold.

– “So we prefer the knee today, I see” it's usually a threat. 

– He usually doesn't actually go through with it in the meanie Daddy style. Mike prefers to fluster you with a smack or two because he loves how you squeak and protest.

– But that doesn't mean it's completely off the table. 

– Unless, of course, you're in a mood yourself.

– There's another reason why he lets you enjoy your delusion of being the one in charge.

– Because when you're all mum and shy and intimidated in his shadow during moments like the ones where he backs you up into a wall as you struggle to keep up your poor act of confidence and authority, or when he really looks at you after you have done or said something particular outrageous, that is when it becomes clear.

– Times when you're flushed, teary eyed, worked up, trembling, whining and helplessly desperate under him, or sometimes even over him, that is when he shows you who is boss. That is when you know and admit who runs things around here.

– It's then that he bargains his thrusts, the ever addictive feeling of his thick cock moving in and out of your weeping little cunt, and your orgasms for the most obscene confessions and words of submission that you can muster.

– It is in all his acts of affection, the innocent and the depraved, that he proves just who really wears the pants in the relationship.

– He doesn't do it very often, of course. Mike prefers to be your giant puppy if that is what pleases you. Honestly, he prefers to be whatever makes you happy.

– After all, overindulgence and excess are two of the greatest vices one can ever commit.

– But when those such moments do come, he takes his sweet time with them.

– And though you swear upon it with your whole being later, he knows you like them too.

– Very much so.

[ellethespaceunicorn-masterlist]

Henry Cavill Masterlist

Here you will find all of my Henry Cavill works, arranged by character and type of work.

One-Shots

Forever And A Day - Explicit - Geralt x Black!OFC - Geralt and Lavinia share a passionate reunion.

Events

You're Mine | Geralt of Rivia + Female Reader + Daddy Kink + “Can you feel how much I want you?” + Darkfic (Sweet Treats Events 2024)

Series

Bright Like The Moon (ongoing)

Touch and Go (possibly ongoing)

The Howling in Claw Creek Forest (ongoing)

Requests

Get My Pretty Name Outta Your Mouth - Explicit - Walter Marshall x Reader - You hate everything about Detective Walter Marshall. He feels the same about you. Now, kiss!

Challenges

Fifteen Minutes - Explicit - Walter Marshall x Unnamed Black!OFC - What Walter does with 15 minutes of his time.

Headcanons

Hobbies

Events

A Little Fresh Air | Walter Marshall + Female Reader + Public Sex + “Hmm, you’re not very patient, are you?” + Smut (Sweet Treats Event 2024)

One-Shots

Hold Me Til I Scream For Air To Breathe - Explicit - Sub!Clark Kent x Domme!Reader - Clark needs to give over to his submissive urges, specifically he yearns to be tied up and owned.

Some Things You Just Can’t Refuse - Explicit - Dom!Clark Kent x Sub!Reader - A collection of first times with Clark Kent, and one last time.

Don’t Kill My Vibe - Explicit - Clark Kent x BestFriend!Black!Fem!Reader - You help Clark ease the pain of his broken heart.

Requests

Happy Birthday, Cupcake - General - Clark Kent x PlusSize!Reader - Clark surprises you for your birthday.

Praise You - General - Clark Kent x Insecure PlusSize!Reader - Clark Kent loves everything about you, especially what you think are your flaws.

One-Shots

What Are You Doing, StepBro? - Explicit - Humphrey x Stepsister!Reader - You and Humphrey don’t have the best start, but before long you will reach an arrangement.

Requests

Doing Something Unholy - Explicit - Charles Brandon x Reader - This is a prompt fill for some teasing of Charles Brandon and then him taking over.

Series

Scrapbook (finished) - Side characters include Walter Marshall, Evan Marshall, Syverson, and Gus March-Phillipps

One-Shots

Make That Kitty Purr {DARK FIC} - Explicit - Mike x Reader, August Walker x Reader - Hellraiser: Hellworld x Mission: Impossible - Fallout, Crossover AU - Uncle August doesn’t give a shit that you’re Mike’s girlfriend.

Make That Kitty Purr [Director’s Cut] {DARKER FIC} - Explicit - Mike x Reader, August Walker x Reader - Hellraiser: Hellworld x Mission: Impossible - Fallout, Crossover AU - Uncle August doesn’t give a shit that you’re Mike’s girlfriend. This is the darker pre-edited version.

Series

Love, Napoleon (ongoing)

One-Shots

I Want a Little Sugar in My Bowl - Explicit - Napoleon Solo x Reader - Napoleon wines and dines.

Series

Daddy Knows Best (possibly on hiatus)

One-Shots

Make That Kitty Purr {DARK FIC} - Explicit - Mike x Reader, August Walker x Reader - Hellraiser: Hellworld x Mission: Impossible - Fallout, Crossover AU - Uncle August doesn’t give a shit that you’re Mike’s girlfriend.

Make That Kitty Purr [Director’s Cut] {DARKER FIC} - Explicit - Mike x Reader, August Walker x Reader - Hellraiser: Hellworld x Mission: Impossible - Fallout, Crossover AU - Uncle August doesn’t give a shit that you’re Mike’s girlfriend. This is the darker pre-edited version.

Treat Me Like A Slut - Explicit - August Walker x Reader - August has had enough of your antics, and you’re going to pay for it.

Requests

Executive Temptation - Explicit - CEO!August Walker x Employee!Reader - You’ve caught the eye of CEO August Walker. What happens when he asks you to go to his private office?

One-Shots

Sometimes The Silence Guides A Mind - Explicit - Sherlock Holmes x Reader - As you were getting close to Sherlock, he stops visiting. You pop over to Baker Street and share an eye-opening moment.

Requests

The Paganini Problem - Mature - Sherlock Holmes x Wife!Reader - Being Sherlock’s wife proves to be difficult when a case stumps him.

Series

The Howling in Claw Creek Forest (ongoing)

Challenges

There Is A Light That Never Goes Out - Mature - Syverson x Reader - When an unexpected pregnancy rocks your already uncertain world, you decide the best option is to run. Apocalypse AU.

Requests

Shape-Up - Explicit - Syverson x Black!Reader (Peaches) - Syverson and his girl, Peaches, try and trim his beard without causing a ruckus. Spoiler alert: they fail.

Drabbles

My Little Strawberry - Mature - Syverson x Black!Reader (Peaches) - A follow-up to Shape Up. Sy has a conversation with his baby girl while she’s still in your stomach. 

Events

Say It Again | Captain Syverson + Female Reader + Phone Sex + “Hmm, you’re not very patient, are you?” + Smut (Sweet Treats Event 2024)

One-Shots

Nothing More Than An Animal - Explicit - Henry!Wolverine (Cavillrine) x Female!Reader - After entering a dangerous biker bar alone, you’re almost assaulted. You are saved by a mutant with metal claws who might be more animal than man.

Walter Marshall (Night Hunter)

Geralt of Rivia (The Witcher)

Clark Kent (Man of Steel, BvS, Justice League)

Humphrey (Stardust)

Charles Brandon (The Tudors)

Mike (Hellraiser: Hellworld)

Napoleon Solo (The Man from U.N.C.L.E.)

August Walker (Mission: Impossible - Fallout)

Gus March-Phillips (The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare)

Will Shaw (The Cold Light of Day)

Sherlock Holmes (Enola Holmes films)

Captain Syverson (Sand Castle)

Evan Marshall (Blood Creek)

Melot (Tristan and Isolde)

Thomas Apreas (Hotel Laguna)

Chas Quilter (The Inspector Lyndley Mysteries)

Stephen Colley (I Capture the Castle)

Henry!Wolvie AKA The Cavillrine (Deadpool & Wolverine)

I DO NOT WRITE RPF FOR HENRY

FULL MASTERLIST IS HERE.

[lainiespicewrites]

Coach Sy Part 5

I'm so sorry this took so long!!! Here it is! I feel like this is all over the place but I kind of just wanted to get a feel of them spending a day together. I love it. And I just wanted to give you guys something while I plan more of this out!! Enjoy.

Warnings: Cursing, Smut!! Oral,(f and M receiving), Mentions of sex

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So are we gonna talk about that?” I asked, shyly. I was lying with my head on Sy’s shoulder absentmindedly drawing shapes on his chest with my fingertips. 

“Talk about what baby?” He met my gaze, raising an eyebrow. My throat went dry and I flushed trying to find the words to describe what just happened. 

“The way we… you were so…I liked it, a lot! But I’ve only ever read about it being like that, and It's so hot but I didn’t think that it was a natural thing and…No one’s ever been like that with me… God, I sound so stupid.” I groaned, pressing my body closer to his and hiding my face against his chest. Logan chuckled. He ran his fingers through my hair, tightening his grip at the back of my head and tugging softly, letting me know to look up at him. I bit my lip and sat up a little, lifting my eyes to meet his. 

“You’re so fuckin cute,” He leaned down and captured my lips in a gentle kiss. “I’m gonna need you to be a little more specific, baby girl,” He smirked. He knew I was embarrassed about saying it. 

“You’re so…in charge and dominant. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s not much different than when you’re coaching.  I just didn’t expect all of that. The spanking and dirty talk, the manhandling,” I blushed. 

“You like me throwing you around like that?” He went back to slowly dragging his fingertips up and down my spine.  I loved this feeling. He was so warm. And he felt safe. Even after how rough and aggressive he was, He was still loving and gentle and kind and caring. I’d never experienced that with anyone else. Like I knew he was going to take care of me. No matter what it takes. And I didn’t feel so shy anymore. 

“Yeah” I spoke finally, and  pressed my lips to his chest and left a trail of kisses up his neck. He groaned softly. “I liked it a lot.” I smirked when I met his eyes again. 

“What’s gotten into you little girl?” He purred, rolling me onto my back and pinning me to the bed. 

“You, Sy. I’m so stuck on you, I can’t figure out what we’re doing but I don’t want this to end.” He was straddling me now. He sat back on his knees and brushed my hair out of my face, giving me a big smile. 

“This is just the beginning baby, and if I’m being honest,” He paused, looking me over and letting his hand trail down my chest resting it on my hip. “I’m planning on forever baby, I’m not going anywhere.” He bit his lip meeting my eyes again. 

“How can you be so sure?” I asked, feeling my insecurities bubble up again. Logan sat for a second, still straddling me, trying to think. God he was trying to find a way to break it to me gently. Of course it was just pillow talk. Just something you say… He probably didn’t mean it and I was being so ridiculous. 

“Some people say when you know you know.” He explained simply. 

“We’ve only been on one date, Logan,” I chuckled. 

“You wanna know when I knew?” He asked, ignoring my last statement. I smiled softly and nodded. “My second  month teaching. I sent you an email, about a girl in my class I was concerned about. I had to be honest with you. I just wasn’t sure how to pick up on signs of mental health and eating disorders and all that. But I knew something wasn’t right. You remember that?” I nodded. I did. It was an everyday thing answering emails about students that teachers wanted to recommend I speak to or may need further help. So I didn’t think much of it. But he asked if he could come down and talk with me about what to look for as far as when they are troubled. Which was so unexpected. I’ve never forgotten it. 

“I knew that day. You cared so much. You were so detailed. But I really knew when we talked about your friends and people you knew. How personal it was to you. We talked so long I was late to practice.  I understood why you were doing your job. I admired you. But from that day on I wanted to know everything about you. I started finding excuses to drop in. Find reasons to see you. Have lunch with you. It took me over a year to get you where I wanted you baby. This isn’t gonna be some temporary thing.” I sniffled softly. I hadn’t realized I was tearing up. Sy leaned down to kiss me softly. 

“You’re not gonna get bored of me?” I asked. He laughed. Literally belly laughed. 

“What’s there to get bored of baby? I love learning about you, and doing things with you and just being with you. Hell no, I’m not gonna get bored of you, Darlin,” He smiled softly and shifted, holding himself up on his arms and kissing my jaw and down my neck.

“Promise?” I bit my lip softly. He looked up and met my gaze and captured my lips again. 

“I promise sugar. You’re the only woman I want, I know I’ve been laying it on kind of heavy but I just think it’s kinda silly to deny ourselves of something, we’re grown, I know how I feel about ya. I don’t need to waste any more time, sugar.” I kissed him again, holding his face as if in my hands. Smiling softly as I pulled away. 

“Sy, I..” I stared up at him but the words got caught in my throat. I felt it, at least I think I did. I just couldn't say it yet. He pressed his lips to my forehead. 

“I know, baby.” He said, then continued to kiss his way down my body. I felt his hands on my thighs as he pushed them apart. 

“Mm, sy, what are you doing?” I asked keeping my eyes on him. He started to kiss my thighs and the bruises he’d left on my hips. 

“You know what I’m doing baby,” He smirked, biting at the inside of my thigh. I arched my back, moaning softly. “Nope, never gonna get bored of that.” He pressed another kiss to my thigh before he pinned my hips down and attacked his lips to my clit licking and sucking relentlessly. 

“My God Sy!” I moaned pulling at the sheets beneath me as he continued his assault on my clit. He shifted lower licking past my folds pushing his tongue inside me lapping at my juices. “Fuck don’t stop!” I felt him grow against me sending vibrations through me bring me closer to the edge. He hooked his arms under my thighs dragging me closer, holding me against his mouth. I was completely at his mercy. I was shaking, and a complete mess as he fucked me with his tongue. I whimpered letting my head hit the pillow when I finally fell apart against his mouth. He drank in all my juices before pulling away with a smirk. He kisses back up my thighs and stomach and kissed my neck before he laid next to me again. 

“How the hell could I ever get bored of that?” He teased. I bit my lips softly trailing my hand down his chest. 

“Okay you’ve proved your point cowboy,” I pressed my palm flat against his stomach feeling  his muscles tense beneath my finger tips as I slowly dragged my hand further down. Logan grabbed my wrist and stopped me. I whined softly and lifted my eyes to meet his. He chuckled. 

“Easy sugar, I’ll gladly let you return the favor another time. But this was about you baby. It ain’t always gotta be 50/50 sometimes I just wanna please my girl.” He pulled me closer, sliding his hand over my hip to squeeze my ass. 

“But,” I started to protest. 

“Shhh  go to sleep, it’s 2 am baby, you need rest,” He smiled and kissed my head softly pulling my thigh over his waist as I laid my head on his chest. “Good girl,” He mumbled. As he rubbed my back softly. God this man was something else. I couldn’t wait to learn everything about him. 

I woke up to the feeling of a cold wet nose against my hand. And… was that a tongue? 

“Aika” I heard Sy call and then whistle, “Come here, leave her be.” The bed shifted as the dog jumped up laying at the end of the bed as Sy walked in the room. “Don’t be difficult.” He said to her, I tried to hide my giggle as he argued with the dog. Who sneezed at him and laid her head down  resting on the bed. “I heard that,” he smirked. I smiled and sat up stretching a bit. 

“Good morning handsome,” He watched me for a moment. Eyes scanning my body as I let the blanket fall to my waist. 

“Morning trouble,” He smiled leaning in the doorway. Standing there in a pair of black sweats, still shirtless, a cup of coffee in hand. He looked so good. I looked down at the beautiful German shepard laying at the end of the bed. 

“So this is the famous Aika,” I smiled and reached out my hand for her to sniff before scratching her ears. He nodded and walked over holding out the coffee for me to take. I accepted the mug and he smiled sitting beside me on the bed. 

“Yeah, looks like she likes you too. She ran right in here after I fed her, jumped right up next to ya on the bed. Where she knows she’s not supposed to be.” He looked at her sternly. She just stared at him and laid her head on his leg. He chuckled. 

“She’s a sweet girl,” I smiled. I took a sip of coffee and sighed content. I scooted closer, cuddling into his side. He grinned and wrapped an arm around my shoulder. 

“Did you sleep well?” He asked. I nodded resting my head on his shoulder. 

“Mhmm, did you?” I asked. 

“Like a baby,” He smirked. We sat like that for a minute. While I drank my coffee and woke up. Finally after a few minutes we got out of bed and he handed me one of his T-shirts to put on. 

“I have clothes Sy,” I giggled softly. 

“I know, I like it when you wear mine.” He pulled me in by my hips and kissed my forehead. I blushed softly. I slipped on his shirt that just barely fell to the top of my thighs. Logan smirked. “Yep, I like this better.” He said as he followed me out of his bedroom.

“You’re staring at my ass aren’t you?” I laughed. 

“Hell yeah!” He chuckled. We walked out to his kitchen. Sy poured me another cup of coffee and offered to make breakfast. I offered to help but he wouldn’t let me. The second I turned to grab something out of the fridge for him he grabbed me by the waist, lifted me up, and sat me on the counter. 

“Sy!” I pouted trying to hide my giggle. 

“Sit still and let me cook for you,” He scolded before he playfully smacked my thigh. 

“Yes, sir,” I mocked, rolling my eyes. He paused letting his eyes roam again, growling low in his chest. My thighs involuntarily clenched and he smirked. Finally he turned to get the eggs out of the fridge. I don’t know what it was about him. Why do we naturally fit so well? Or Why I trust him so much. Everything about him in moments like this feels so …primal. But At the same time he’s so gentle and intelligent and ..strong. So damn strong. Whatever was starting between us. It was like. Electricity. Or Magnetic. There was some kind of pull. I could sense whenever he was close to me. And it set my senses into overdrive. 

We ate breakfast, just some simple eggs, bacon and toast. Sy let Aika back out to run around the land. She has a doggy door and just comes and goes as she pleases. That makes perfect sense for them. Very low maintenance. Both of them come around to check on each other every now and then. It’s cute honestly. 

“I think I’m gonna shower,” I said when we’d finished breakfast and finished cleaning up the kitchen. I rested my hand on his chest and looked up at him, I could see the mischief in his eyes. 

“You want company?” he smiled softly. I chuckled. 

“Are you gonna behave yourself?” I raised an eyebrow. He just laughed and shook his head. 

“You know I’m not, Sugar.” I rolled my eyes. 

“Come on cowboy,”

As desperately as I wanted him I couldn’t handle anymore after last night. He made sure of it. I turned back just in time to catch his smirk when he saw the slight limp I was walking with. Sly bastard. But, him, I would gladly take care of.

I sank to my knees in front of him in the shower. He smiled down at me brushing my hair back. “You sure about this darlin?” He lifted my chin to look him in the eyes “I don’t wanna hurt ya.”  He said brushing his thumb over my bottom lip. 

“Mmhmm, you promised I could return the favor, and you had no problem being rough with me last night,” I smirked. He growled softly and grabbed my jaw 

“I can’t promise I can control myself baby, can you handle me fucking your little throat sugar?” He had no shame. He stared right and my eyes with that cocky smirk on his face. This man drips confidence. The things I’ve done with him in the last 2 weeks I never knew I would do. But I loved it.  I reached up wrapping my hand around him pumping slowly. He groaned resting his head against the tile. I licked up his length slowly before I took him completely in my mouth I held eye contact and answered him. 

“Don’t hold back, Daddy,” Before finally wrapping my lips around him and taking him all the way to the back of my throat. I started to bob my head slowly. I watched his face and saw something hungry flash in his eyes at my words. He tangled his fingers in my hair pulling it back away from my face and holding it in a ponytail. He started to guide me on his cock moving me faster and pushing himself further down the back of my throat. He moaned cursing, feeling me gag around his head. 

“That’s a good girl. Fuck you take it so well.” He moaned. I pulled back gasping for air. And smiled. 

“That all you got? “ The shower was hitting his chest and flowing down down his abs. He looked like a God from this angle. 

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” His eyes were soft as they held my gaze I gripped his and bit my lip. 

“I trust you Logan, “ That was all it took. He was guiding me back on to his cock and holding my head still. I twirled my tongue around the head and moaned around him and he pulled my hair softy. 

“Fuckin tease. Hold still darlin, Gonna fuck that pretty face.” I hummed sending vibrations around him and tugged at my hair harder. I met his eyes again and he smiled. “That’s my good girl, you like when you I take charge don’t ya?” He moaned and started thrusting into my mouth. His cock hitting the back of my throat everytime. I knew he was enjoying this. I slid my hands up to his stomach and felt his muscles tense under my fingers. He had his eyes closed his head tilted back agaisnt the shower wall and his jaw was slack. I loved making him feel good like this. He didn’t let me take care of him often. I moaned around him he pushed me down further holding me down taking him down my throat. I tried as hard as I could to swallow around him as he held me down. I felt tears stinging around my eyes as he let up and and I pulled back to take a breath coughing hard. “Fuck are you..?”

 I didn’t let him finish his sentence before I had him back in my mouth bobbing my head teasing him with my tongue. He groaned loudly tightening his grip in my hair. “That’s it baby don’t stop.”  He was close. He held me still again thrusting into my mouth erratically. He growled gritting his teeth. “Fuck yes,” he moaned as he released in my mouth. I swallowed it all licking him clean. He shuttered and shook his head with a chuckle before extending his hand to help me back to my feet. He held me close to his while he caught his breath. 

“Was that good?” I bit my looking down at the shower floor. He lifted my chin kissing me passionately. 

“Jesus, baby you are, full of surprises,” He smiled. “Fuckin Incredible.” 

We finished our shower and got dressed for the day. But we’ren’t in a hurry to go anywhere in particular. We stayed cuddled up on his couch all afternoon. Watching some old movies. We talked a bit about nothing in particular. Getting to know each other some more. Although it felt like we already did. This felt really normal. 

“Do you wanna take Aika for a walk with me?” He asked. I think it was almost 5 or 6 o’clock now. I nodded. 

“I’d love that,” I said. He called her in and got her on a leash and we set out down the road. 

“Can I be honest with ya?” He said as we started to walk. 

“Of course you can,” I smiled. 

“This has been one of the best days I’ve had in a long time.” He said. I stopped walking for a moment. 

“But we haven’t really, done anything.” I said. He smiled and took my hand in his and lead me to keep walking with him. 

“I know, but I got to spend good quality time with the woman I care about. That’s all I need.” He squeezed my hand softly. I met his eyes again. 

“I really enjoyed this too. I’m kind of sad that you’ll have to take me home sometime soon.” I admitted. 

“No I don’t,” He stated. “I don’t have anything going on this weekend. I ain’t in no hurry to get you out of here.” 

“No?” I asked “What are you trying to say Sy?” 

“Stay the rest of the weekend with me.” He smiled pulling me closer. I squeezed his hand blushing slightly. 

“Answer something for me first,” I said. 

“Anything,” He said. 

“Are we together now? Am I your girlfriend, I know it’s kind of fast we’ve only been on one date, but the way we’ve been talking. It just seemed like that’s what you’ve been trying to say and..” 

He kissed me softly on the lips. 

“Sugar, I thought I ….Maybe I wasn’t completely clear.” He chuckled. “I want you as long as you’ll have me baby. You’re mine. I wanna take you everywhere with me. Stay with me this weekend?” I smiled and nodded. 

“Yeah, I will” I smiled. He kissed me again and we continued our walk. Back at the house we settled in on the couch again. Cuddled up for another movie. “How are we gonna do this at work, Keep our hands to ourselves, behave?” I chuckled. 

“It’s not like people aren’t expecting it.” He laughed.  I raised an eyebrow. 

“Am I really the only one that didn’t know how you felt all this time?” I asked. 

“I mean… The boys know baby…” He chuckled. I groaned. 

“I’m sorry baby.” I blushed realizing what I said. 

“I’m not, I got you now. I’m not complaining.” We finished our movie and I stretched yawning.  “Tired?”  I nodded. “Come on sweet pea. Lets go to bed.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@summersong69 @carrie80reads @identity2212 @caramariehurst @redheadrouge @warriormirkwood @kingliam @gummydummy19 @deandoesthingstome @starfirewildheart @foxyjwls007

[xdirtyxlittlexgirl]

Dearest Gentle Reader,

It is with uncontainable delight that I proclaim my return to the social scene! With sharpened quills and plenty promts, I stand prepared to weave tales that will enthrall even the most discerning of you.

Whether it be the likes of dashing Henry Cavill, Chris Evans, or Armie Hammer, or the mystical realms of The Witcher, The Vampire Diaries, or the scintillating escapades of our very own Bridgerton, no stone shall be left unturned.

So to keep the tea spilling, I implore you, esteemed readers, to submit your most imaginatively wild plots and prompts and remember, in the world of Lady X, the pen is mightier than the sword, and I am armed and ready.

Yours Most Sincerely,

Lady X

[captainsy-cookiemonster]

Follow-up ask for the raccoon bite headcanon

NSFW image under the cut😆

okay, i've let this cook for way too long 😂

silly something (smut but not really) under the cut. I haven't written in so long, this probably sucks😂😭

Continuation of this and this.

I'm so sorry 😂😂

Not beta’d, written at 10pm. If there are typos, just ignore them

*ding*

Mikey's phone goes off. He looks around the lecture hall, to see if anyone had heard the notification. No one was looking. Luckily.

Sweetcheeks: hey puppy🥰

When he doesn't answer, sends a picture, more specifically, a selfie of herself in a perfect black smokey eye.

Mike: babeee im in a lectureee

Sweetcheeks: 😈

Sweetcheeks: i have a surpriseee

Mike: caaan't. Important lecture...😩

But Mikey's girlfriend doesn't care. She sends another picture. Of herself. In black lace lingerie.

Sweetcheeks: come homeee

Mikey's face flushes. Blood rushing to two places. His face and well...

He packs up his things and hurries out the lecture hall. He walks across campus, almost running.

Sweetcheeks: im waiting😇

Mike starts walking even faster.

Finally, he reaches his dorm. He opens the door and enters... His childhood bedroom? Weird. But his brain doesn't get enough blood right now to think properly.

And there she is, lying on his bed.

"Hey, puppy," sweetcheeks beams at him.

Fuck, she looks so hot. In her makeup and that lingerie. He hadn't noticed it in the pictures, but she's also wearing a collar and cute little cat ears.

"You like it?" she asks innocently, almost pouting at him.

"I... Uhh..." Mike stammers, looking at his girlfriend. How'd she know he wanted her to dress up like that for ages?

She pats the bed, smiling and as if in a trance, he walks over.

He looks at her, almost drooling. Fuck, she looks so fucking hot. His cock twitches in his jeans when he sees the black tip of a tail peek out from behind her thigh.

She pats the bed again, and he sits next to her. Grinning, she starts crawling towards him, kissing him once she reaches him. She kisses her way down to his neck. Slowly, her kisses turn into little nibbles. She playfully bites his earlobe, and he grabs a handful of her ass. He takes hold of her tail and pulls it, just a little bit so he could see.

It's not fully black...

And her ears aren't cat ears, he notices...

Raccoon...

It's a raccoon tail plug.

"What's wrong, puppy?" she whispers sweetly. She smiles at him. He feels her hands on him still and looks down. They look like raccoon paws!

---------------------------------------

Mike wakes up, bathed in sweat. Horrible, horrible nightmare. He looks around his bedroom. His childhood bedroom. Right... He was hole for summer break.

He sees sweetcheeks sleeping next to him on her side, facing away from him, wearing one of his old t-shirts. No lingerie in sight. But he has to be sure.

As quietly as he can, he searches his room for any suspicious boxes that could store this horrible costume. There's nothing in his closet. Nothing under his desk. Nothing in sweetcheeks' drawer in his dresser. Finally, he looks under the bed. He finds a box and opens it. The black plastic bag he finds inside looks suspicious, so he can't help but open it.

What he finds inside makes his blood run cold.

It's the ears, tail plug, along with the ears.

"Nooooooo!"

"Mike! Are you insane?! It's 3am!" sweetcheeks sleepily hisses from the bed, rubbing her eyes and glaring at her boyfriend. And snuggled in her arm is Bandit.

Bandit. Truly a bandit. Stole his girlfriend now. How he hated this trash panda.

Mikey screams again, waking the whole house.

[angryschnauzer]

Cuddles and Snuggles

Summary: Its the morning after date night with your sugar daddy, and your two roommates crawl into your bed for a snuggle. Finding you naked things get very touchy feely, very quickly. (pretty much pure smut)

Fandoms: The Tudors, Hellraiser, Henry Cavill

Pairing: Modern day Charles Brandon x Female Reader x Mike (Hellraiser)

Warnings: 18+, Smut, NSFW, Roomates to lovers, friends with benefits, sugar daddy arrangement (no use of the term ‘daddy’), massage, titty sucking, fondling, fingering, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex, double penetration, double vaginal penetration, anal fingering, triple penetration, spy camera.

Here is my masterlist and AO3

Wordcount: 2244

I do not run a tag list, instead please follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications, you’ll then get an alert each time i post something new. My AO3 also has my entire back catalogue of stories (going back to 2013).

Authors note: This week has been completely overwhelming, so i took an impromptu day off to disassociate and write some unplanned smut. The first half of the story i actually had as a dream (bed snuggles with Charles and Mikey) but i let my imagination go smutty with where to take it thereafter. Enjoy.

Cuddles and Snuggles

The pale morning light filled your room and you stretched your limbs out beneath the all white duvet, shivering a little from the cool sheets touching your heated skin, but also realising you’d slept in past the time the heating had already finished its morning blast. For a moment you worried you had missed class, but then a further stretch reminded you of your sore muscles from the night before, and as date night was always Friday night you smiled and snuggled back into the duvet further. Just then your phone chimed, and as you decided to check it you smiled as you saw the message;

‘New Funds Received: $4000 deposit’

Having a Sugar Daddy was worth the effort you put in, especially when he was paying all expenses for your graduate course at Harvard plus a weekly allowance. Whilst you had your phone in your hand you snapped a shot of yourself, ensuring to get your naked chest in the photo and hit send to him, knowing he would appreciate it.

Just then a notification for the houseshare group chat popped up, opening it you read as your two roommates argued whose turn it was to make coffee. Ignoring the chat you locked your screen and snuggled back under the covers. A few minutes later you heard your door open, and a deep voice;

“I know you’re awake”

“I am”

“If you don’t get up i’m getting in”

You giggled. Charles was always a cuddle bug. Coming from a very wealthy family, he could have taken the trust fund route, but instead had opted to continue his education and was now almost complete with his Doctorate on Ancient Literature. He was well into his mid 20’s, but cut a fine figure of a man, working out regularly and making sure his grooming habits were always on point.

Your lack of movement was the trigger for him to cross the room and slide in beside you, his light bed tshirt and sweats brushing against your skin as he sought you out beneath the kingsize duvet. As his hand curved around your stomach you let out a small hum until he pulled you flush with his chest and his lips brushed against your neck;

“Your Sugar Daddy tire you out last night?”

“He did indeed”

Both of your roommates knew about your arrangement, and thankfully were chill about the whole thing. In the past some people had been judgemental, but this wasn’t the case with the boys. 

Charles moved his hand that was on your waist up to your shoulders, massaging it, his big hands working their magic beneath the duvet. Letting out a contented sigh you relaxed into his touch, smiling as he worked his way blindly down your back until he paused at the curve of your ass;

“Oh”

That hand curled back around your waist and he pulled you harder to his chest, and you felt him rock his bulge against your ass and let out a quiet appreciative grunt. Just then you heard footsteps in the hallway;

“So that’s why the coffee pot hasn’t been filled yet”

Not waiting for an answer, moments later you felt Mike crawl up the bed from beneath the duvet, his dark messy curls appearing in front of you. Those vivid blue eyes glanced and you and then down at your chest, and a big smile appeared on his face;

“Oooh titties!” quickly snuggling up to you, his hand over your waist and his face was soon pushed softly against your breasts as he proceeded to motorboat you.

Your relationship with both of your roommates was one where there were very few boundaries. No-one was ashamed of being naked in front of the others, and there of course had been times when you’d ended up letting things go beyond ‘just friends’ with both of them. It was a regular occurrence for one of you to climb into another's bed, either for comfort, or for warmth, or to just be a pain in the ass and wake them up. However this was different; all three of you were in the one bed, and usually you all were clothed. Okay yes the two boys were still dressed, but you were complete nude and it had immediately changed the dynamic of the situation. 

As Mike softened in your arms, his comical motorboating slowed and he was gently nuzzling at your tits. He was in just a soft black t-shirt and checked flannel pyjama pants, your hands finding their way beneath his t-shirt to tenderly stroke at his sides and back. The action moved him closer, and as he pressed your bodies together you could feel a hardness pressing against your stomach. He moved his mouth and caught one of your nipples between his lips, suckling softly and making you arch your back, pushing your breast into his touch and your ass out. The latter elicited a murmur of appreciation from Charles who moved his hands away to push his sweats down before his hand gripped your hip and you felt his hard length settle in the crease of your ass, grinding into you. 

You felt Mike pull your leg up over his hip, his hand splayed out on the back of your thigh, as Charles crept his fingers around your hip to your slit, and traced through your now wet and ready folds, dipping into your hole;

“You’re ready, aren’t you?”

You nodded and hummed, biting your lip as you felt him position his thick crown at your entrance before pushing in slowly;

“Ohhhh” you felt stretched as he filled you, your body still slightly sore from the night before, but you were resilient. Plus your Sugar Daddy had pushed you beyond what you thought your limits were in the past as he knew you could take it.

Charles started to fill you with shallow smooth thrusts, his hand gripping your hips and his lips found their way to your neck, pressing kisses to your pressure points as his soft beard gave a friction to his jaw that tickled your skin just right. Consumed with what Charles was doing, you’d foolishly thought Mike was content with your tits, however when you finally opened your eyes you saw him sliding further down your bed as he took the duvet with him, before he managed to duck his head down and bury it between your legs.

“Hey Charles, slow down for a second” his voice was muffled by your thighs, but Charles lifting your leg high and wide, giving Mike enough room to get his mouth on your clit.

“OH Fuck…” the sensations were divine, Mike’s strong jaw and wicked tongue working on your clit, Charles’ meaty cock filling you just right. The dual sensations were enough to have your orgasm approach rapidly, you just needed the one final trigger. That was put into place when Mike slid two long fingers inside you alongside Charles, stretching you as he crooked them and pressed against your sensitive spot high up on the inside and you came with a whimper, squeezing them both. Charles pressed kisses to the side of your face, whispering praises as he slowed his thrusts whilst Mike carefully pulled his fingers out and shuffled up the bed, the duvet now long since cast aside.

The kiss as Mike captured your lips tasted of your own juices, his tongue working against yours and you felt him pulling his pyjama pants down, pulling your leg back over his hip as he took your hand and wrapped your fingers around his hard dick;

“Feel what you do to me?” you pumped him, relishing the feel of the hardness beneath the velvet soft skin; “You’re so good at this, you gonna take us both”

Pressing a kiss to his plump lips you nodded.

“Good girl” Charles praised as he lifted your leg and slowed his thrusts again allowing Mike to position himself alongside him.

Relaxing as much as you could, you shut your eyes as you felt Mike stretch you out as he pushed his dick into your soaked pussy alongside Charles. Their praises rung in your ears as you struggled not to be overwhelmed at the sensation, the fullness, your body deceived you and surprised you with a gentle orgasm, but you knew there was a bigger wave to come;

“Harder… Please, i can take it”

Your request invigorated the boys' efforts, their strong hands gripping onto you for purchase as their hips worked in a synchronicity that for a moment had you wondering if they’d done this before, a learned skill of working together as a team. Mike moved his upper body so he could cup your tits, taking turns to such each nipple, whilst Charles managed to find other places for his hands to cause devilish magic. One hand slipped down your stomach, pushing between yours and Mike’s to find your clit and rubbed tight circles against the swollen bud, however the other strayed down your back to your ass. Finding you wet and slippery, his thick digit met little resistance as he pressed against your back door, and you eagerly allowed him entry knowing it would be the final trigger for what you needed. When he was in up to his knuckle it was what broke the levy and you were consumed by your orgasm, coming hard as you soaked the sheet below you, giving the two thick dicks inside you the final lubrication they needed to unleash hell.

“Can i cum inside her?” Mike asked Charles quickly

“I…err…” Charles faltered, so close to the edge of shooting his own load, but that final thought of having another mans cum on his dick fogging his mind for a moment

“Please boys, i want you to both cum inside me, i need it”

Charles grunted;

“Yeah Mikey, lets flood her, not like i’m gonna make you pregnant or something”

Mike laughed;

“True” he cupped your chin; “No risk of us making you pregnant?”

You shook your head;

“I’m on birth control… please… i’m so close again… lets cum together…”

With a sudden rush of energy, both Charles and Mike ploughed into you, filling you with their heavily swollen cocks, Charles sliding a second finger into your ass, and you came with a scream, this time squirting around them both as they came simultaneously, filling you with copious amounts of their creamy seed.

Sweaty and sated, the three of you lay connected on the soft sheets, gently caressing the others, three minds collectively together and at peace. Just as you were starting to feel the onset creep of sleep, dual alarms sounded from their bedrooms, causing them to both jolt back to consciousness.

“Hockey practice!” Charles almost shouted, pulling out of you at the same time Mike did. He quickly pushed your legs back together with a grin; “Keep all that inside”

You watched as they both rolled/fell off the bed, pulling their sweats/pyjama’s up over their asses;

“You’re both going?”

Charles was already out of the room, Mike stopping at the doorway;

“It's the final practice session before we take on the engineering faculty, coach Syverson will have our balls if we’re late”

With a sigh you lay flat on your back, moments later seeing both your boys running for the door with the kit bags swung over their shoulders. The slam of the front door told you they had left the building, followed by the revving of Mike’s Subaru as he peeled out of the parking space outside your place.

Just then your phone rang, and as you glanced at the screen you smiled as the words ‘Sugar Daddy’ came on screen, answering as you lay back;

“Hi August”

“Well, you’ve had a fun morning, haven’t you?”

You glanced at the small security camera that sat on your desk, directly opposite the end of your bed;

“Did you enjoy the show?”

August let out a small grunt;

“Very much so. Show me what they did to you…” Propping yourself up on your pillows you opened your legs wide, the feeling of two loads of cum pooling at your used hole before sliding out and pouring down your ass; “You can squeeze some more out my little slut”

“Auggie, i can’t… i’m sore”

“You don’t need to put anything inside, rub that clit and push them out”

As your older man watched through the camera, you rubbed your clit, pulling another orgasm out of you and you felt thick globs of cum pour from your battered pussy. When you went limp on the bed you heard his voice praising you;

“Did so well my little slut. Wasn’t sure you had it in you to take two dicks at once, but know that i know that i have a friend who i’ll bring to our next date night”

“Really? Is he as big as you?”

August knew you weren’t talking about height or body type;

“You’ll be pleased with what Walter has to offer” he chuckled down the line; “Now get some rest, you’ve had three dicks in you in the last 24 hours in one way or another, time to rest that pussy so you’re not still distracted for class on Monday”

“Yes Sir” you saluted to the camera, before pushing your cum soaked fingers into your mouth to lick them clean.

You heard a sigh down the line;

“You are a wicked young woman”

[ramp-it-up]

Yeaaaaaaaaaass to the new update. The secks is amazing! 🥵

My ask if about Mike Ackerman. That’s not Hellraiser Mike is it? 😅

Thanks, love. So glad that you like it!

And as for your ask…

Read the II Most Wanted Series.

[poledancingdinos]

Soundtrack of Debauchery - Part 3

Pairing: Young!Syverson X OFC (Jessie) X Mike (Hellraiser)

Word Count:  11 118 words

Warnings: SMUT, D/S vibes, Vaginal Fingering, Masturbation, Spanking, Vaginal Sex, Creampie, Alcohol, Drug Use, Angst, Canon-Typical War Situations/Trauma

Taglist: @raccoon-eyed-rebel @amberangel112 @utterlyhopeful-fics @marantha @kebabgirl67 @littleone65 @omgkatinka @luclittlepond @enchantedbytomandhenry @narnianaos @geralts-yenn @peaches1958 @avengersfan25 @sillyrabbit81 @lena-banena @mrsevans90 @confessionbrain-writings @electricfashionbookszipper @rosecentury

Story Masterlist

Masterlist

As Jessie pushed through the door of her apartment, out of breath from dragging eight heavy grocery bags up five flights of stairs, she was greeted by the sound of her boyfriend cursing up a storm.

She set everything down in the kitchen, taking the time to put the cold stuff away before she investigated what had her boyfriend kicking up such a fuss.

She'd expected to find him with his headphones on, playing one of his online games but, to her surprise, she found him in a tangle of sheets—and not the sexy kind.

The mattress was on the floor, propped up against the bed frame, the sheets were in a pile on one side of the room while the pillows were stacked on the other and in the middle was Mike holding the large king size duvet and duvet cover.

“What the hell is going on in here?”

Mikey jumped, letting go of the blanket as he spun to face Jessie. 

“Shit, youʼre back already?”

Brows furrowed in confusion, Jessie checked the time on her phone.

“I was gone for almost three hours.”

Mike’s face dropped, looking around at the messy bedroom.

“Really?”

Jessie nodded, stepping further into the room.

“I… I know you’ve been working extra hard trying to get things ready for when Nate gets home so I thought I’d check a few things off your list.”

His eyes stayed downcast as he scratched the back of his head and Jessie’s heart damn near melted along with the surge of panic that had been elicited by the sight of the upturned bedroom.

All of the sudden, Jessie had thrown herself at Mike, causing him to let out a small ‘ompf’.

Taken aback, Mike hesitated a few moments before returning the embrace and pressing his cheek into Jessie’s hair.

“Thank you.”

Letting her go, Mike huffed. “For what? I just made everything into a bigger mess than when you left.”

He’d wanted to help shoulder the ridiculous load his girlfriend had begun to carry from the moment she heard Sy was going to be home but obviously he was incapable of doing something as simple as washing their bedding. He’d been utterly defeated by linen.

“Are the sheets clean?”

“Yeah, I left them on the floor because I needed the basket for the clothes I put in afterwards. I got stuck trying to get the covers back on the blanket and the mattress. I don’t know how you get the duvet to go in flat. No matter what I do it just ends up in a tangled lump.”

They had one of those bug proof and waterproof mattress covers that fully wrapped around the mattress and zipped shut. Jessie wasn’t afraid to admit that getting the damn thing back on the heavy king mattress was one hell of a workout. Mike had never been the one to change the duvet cover, nor had he been the one to take it off since Jessie had stripped the bed before leaving so he had no way to know that there were ties in the corners.

“I’ll help with those then you can finish making the bed while I put the groceries away.”

Together, they held the mattress on its side, working the tight protector over it before lifting the whole thing back onto the frame and zipping it shut. Next came the duvet which they shook out and laid out on top of the mattress.

Jessie reached for the cover which she flipped inside out while Mike watched attentively. “See these little strings in the corners?” She held them out for Mikey to see. “They tie to the loops in corners of the duvet so that it doesn’t get all bunched up inside the cover when you use it. I like to lay them on top of each other and tie the upper corners first.” Jessie demonstrated what to do on one side while Mike copied on the other. “Then I flip the cover right side out over the duvet and pull it down little by little. That way the blanket stays flat on the bed the whole time and I don’t have to worry about holding it up or making lumps anywhere. When you get to the bottom, you tie off those corners and you close it up.”

It was all very simple once she’d explained it and Mike felt a little silly that he hadn’t been able to figure it out on his own but Jessie hadn’t made fun of him or shooed him out of the room. No, his beautiful, sweet, patient girlfriend had taken the time to teach him what to do.

“Thanks, babe.” He pulled her closer, placing a kiss on her cheek. “I can finish up from here.”

“Thank you for helping. I know it probably seems like I’m going a little crazy but Sy has been gone for so long and he hasn’t even seen the apartment since we signed the lease. I just want this place to feel comfortable and homey.”

Mike hugged Jessie tighter and she pressed her cheek against the soft, well-worn cotton of his shirt.

“Home is anywhere you are, babe. He’ll appreciate all the effort you put in but you’re always going to be his main focus.”

She hadn’t realized how much she’d needed the reassurance that Sy would be happy no matter what he came home to. The last week had been spent organizing and reorganizing every room in the apartment. Yesterday Mike had come home to find Jessie on her hands and knees, scrubbing every inch of the bathroom. Today her focus had been the kitchen which also included a massive shopping haul to get all of Sy’s favorite snacks and enough food to hopefully last the ten days he was home without someone having to take a few hours out of their day to get more. Laundry had been on her agenda for the evening and tomorrow morning she planned to vacuum and mop so that the place smelled fresh as he walked in.

With a final squeeze and a peck on the lips, Jessie returned to the kitchen to unpack the groceries. Mike joined her a few minutes later, making quick work of the remaining items before sending Jessie off to watch a show in the living room as he made dinner. He wasn’t as skilled a chef as Jessie but he was great at greasy stoner food which, by the look of his girl, was exactly what she needed.

Once his loaded nachos were in the oven, he went down to the building’s laundry room to pull his clean clothing out of the dryer. By the time heʼd fished folding everything, the cheese on the nachos was deliciously bubbly and golden.

He insisted on dishing up the food himself, bringing the plates into the living room where Jessie was able to enjoy a quiet evening for the first time in over a week.

Before they went to bed, Mike made sure Jessie was extra relaxed by making her cum on his tongue, two dexterous fingers pumping inside her, then took her to bed where she fell asleep to the comforting scent of freshly cleaned sheets.

Sy was dog tired after the fifteen hour flight home from the Middle East, the subsequent flight back to Pittsburgh and the Uber ride to what was technically his apartment. At least, it was his apartment on paper though he hadn’t so much as spent a single night in it. He’d gotten a little bit of sleep on the plane but it wasn’t enough to make up for nine consecutive months of shitty sleep.

The driver dropped him off in the first available spot on the busy street and Sy walked the rest of the way to his building where he froze in front of the door. The key was in his hand but he felt strange using it to let himself in even if Mike and Jessie were expecting him. There was a nagging voice in his head that told him that he should ring the buzzer like any other guest would.

He’d changed out of his uniform already so he didn’t draw as much attention from passersby as he stood there, internally debating what to do.

His phone chimed in his pocket, momentarily interrupting his train of thought. Pulling it out, Sy laughed as he read the words on the screen.

Mike: I saw you pull up. Get your ass up here already.

Without any further hesitation, Sy unlocked the door and began the walk up the fifth floor. When he arrived at the top, Mike was casually leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Took you long enough. Are stairs getting too hard for you in your old age?”

“Mike, I’m twenty-six not ninety-six.”

“That’s what I said—old. You’re officially closer to thirty than you are to twenty.”

With a scoff, Sy approached, dropping his duffle and pulling his annoying little cousin in for a bear hug. Mike clapped him twice on the back, laughing as he did.

“I missed you too, kid.”

“Alright, listen,” Mike began as they pulled apart, “Jessie’s been freaking out all week trying to make this place perfect for you so: boots off in the hall, tell her that supper smells nice and there’s a bottle of bleach under the bathroom sink. Don’t be afraid to use it.”

Sy couldn’t help but smile fondly as Mike spoke. He wasn’t thrilled that Jessie had been stressing out about him coming home but he was glad she had Mike looking out for her.

Wordlessly, Sy kicked off his boots, leaving them by the door before stepping into the apartment. There was music coming from the kitchen which was on the other side of the hall from the door. If Jessie was in there cooking, she most likely hadn’t heard Mike open the door.

“Come find me when the food’s ready,” Mike said as he crossed the apartment to one of the two bedrooms and closed the door.

From the living room, Sy went left, walking into the dining area. To Jessie’s great dismay, the kitchen was absolutely tiny. There was only about four feet of counter space between the stove and the sink. The fridge was in a small nook perpendicular to the rest of the kitchen. If the door was open, it partially blocked the stove.

Still, she’d insisted that it was better to compromise and choose a place with a bad kitchen and low rent rather than to pay a few hundred dollars more a month for a nice kitchen that would never belong to them.

Jessie had proven time and time again that she could cook an amazing meal on absolutely anything. This time was no different. The scent of whatever she was stirring on the stove was making his mouth water and there was what looked like homemade crusty bread and a chocolate cake cooling on the counter.

The next song began to play and Jessie wiggled her hips to the beat. She was wearing extra tight skinny jeans with a loose fitting knit sweater that stopped a few inches above her waistband.

Before he could think better of it, Sy crossed the space in three wide strides and gave her a quick spank before sliding both hands to her stomach and hugging her from behind. Jessie jerked as she startled but she didn’t make a move to turn around, instead blindly swatting his hands.

“Michael Lucian West, you promised no shenanigans today!”

Ouch, full name. Jessie was definitely wound up too tight.

“I made no such promise,” Sy growled against her ear, his hand sneaking under her shirt.

“Nate!”

Dropping the spoon, Jessie turned in his hold and crashed her lips to his. Sy had the foresight to switch off the burner before he put two large hands on her ass and hoisted her up, moving them over to the rarely used table. It was so rarely used, in fact, that there were only two chairs.

As soon as Sy set her down, Jessie was undoing his pants and slipping her hand inside to grab his cock.

“Jesus, Sweetheart, give a man a warnin’.”

“Doesn’t feel like you needed a warning to me.”

The warning wasn’t to have time to get hard, the warning was to keep from coming at the barest touch. He caught hold of Jessie’s wrist, pulling her hand out of his pants and over her head until she had no choice but to roll onto her back with Sy looming over her. 

“Behave,” he warned, moving her other arm so that he held both wrists in his hands, “or I’m gonna have to find creative ways to teach ya patience.” Sy nipped at her ear then attacked Jessie’s neck with his lips. The hand not pinning her wrists in place pushed her sweater up to reveal her lace covered breasts.

Sy was definitely an ass man but he loved Jessie’s tits. They were a nice handful without being so large that she always needed to wear bras for support which meant that sometimes she wore what she called bralettes. Mike and Sy just referred to them as her sexy sports bras. They were his favorite because there was no lining behind the see-through lace, allowing him to see just how turned on she was by how her nipples pressed against the thin fabric.

He circled one hard bud with his thumb, silencing her gasp with a hungry kiss. Jessie squirmed under Sy’s touch, wrapping her thighs around his waist and pulling him closer.

She lifted her hips to grind against him but a sharp pinch on her nipple caused her to yelp and drop back to the table.

“I said, behave.”

“Make me.”

With a growl, Sy freed himself from Jessie’s hold by hooking an arm under her knee and rolling her onto her stomach so that her feet were on the ground and her front was flat against the hard wood. A sharp spank echoed through the small room, followed by three more in quick succession.

“You act like a brat then I’ll treat ya like a brat. Shirt off, bra too.”

While Jessie pulled her sweater over her head, Sy unfastened her jeans, working the tight denim down her legs. Once he’d tossed the garment aside with her panties following soon after, Jessie was left naked while he was still fully dressed.

“Put your hands on the table.”

The deeper than normal tone of Sy’s voice made Jessie’s whole body shiver in anticipation. She planted both palms on the table, resisting the urge to look at her boyfriend over her shoulder.

Jessie wasn’t sure what had come over her. It hadn’t been her intention to jump on Sy the moment he walked through the door. She’d planned to welcome him home with a hot meal and some quality time all together but it was like something inside her had snapped.

Getting the apartment ready for Sy’s return had kept her mind busy over the last several days but the instant she saw Sy, it was like all the worry she’d experienced since his deployment had come crashing back.

She’d needed to know that he was real. She needed to know that he was there, living and breathing in front of her.

There would be time for slow love-making later. Right now, Jessie relished every sensation that bordered on that edge between pain and pleasure because that meant that the man she loved was back home, safe and sound.

Thankfully, Sy seemed to be more than willing to indulge her mood, kicking her legs further apart and putting her pussy on full display.

Stepping back as he ripped his shirt over his head, Sy took a moment to appreciate the view.

“Fuck me, that’s a beautiful sight.”

“Syyyy,” Jessie whined. Her clit was throbbing with need but with her legs spread wide, she couldn’t even squeeze her thighs together for some relief.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he taunted, pushing his pants down his thighs. The answer to his question was already obvious by the way she was practically dripping onto the floor.

“I need you.”

“Do you now?” Sy stroked himself while trailing a hand up the inside of her thigh. “You feelin’ empty?” he asked, leaning forward to nip at her shoulders.

“Yes.”

His hand continued to creep upwards at a torturously slow pace, finally coming to circle her clit. “You need to be filled?”

“Yes!”

One finger slid through her folds, easily pushing inside. “Is this what ya need?” Her core clenched around him, searching for more.

Jessie made a disgruntled noise. “No.”

Dropping his underwear to the floor, Sy added another digit. He pumped two long fingers in and out, making Jessie moan when they pressed down against her front wall and reached that place hers never could. “How about this?”

“No.”

A cry of frustration filled the room when Sy’s fingers disappeared but it quickly turned into one of relief as his cock took their place. Pushing all the way in, Sy didn’t stop until Jessie was pinned between his hips and the table.

Brushing Jessie’s hair aside, Sy rested his forehead against the nape of her neck. “And this?” he choked out. “Is this what ya need?”

“Yes,” she said on an exhale.

Wrapping an arm around Jessie’s front, Sy took a moment just to feel. His calloused palms moved down the soft skin of her stomach, following the curve of her hip to her thigh before retracing its path back up to palm her breast. 

When he no longer felt like the slightest movement would push him over the edge, Sy gave a tentative thrust. And fuck him if it didn’t send a burst of pleasure all the way down to his very core.

Chasing that feeling, Sy repeated the motion, eliciting a moan from the both of them. As his pace quickened, Sy planted a palm on the table next to Jessie’s and grasped her hips with the other.

Every slam of his pelvis against her ass was punctuated by the sound of the table knocking into the wall. If the neighbours happened to hear the noise, the accompanying grunts and moans left no room for doubt as to what was happening on their side of the wall.

Sy’s peak was approaching far too fast for his liking. In a desperate attempt to stave it off, Sy pulled out, spinning Jessie around and lifting her to perch on the edge of the table. This time, when she wrapped her legs around him, he didn’t protest, choosing to kiss her instead.

Her hands clawed at his back as she scrambled for purchase, the vigor of his thrusts not diminishing in the slightest. The change in position added delicious pressure to her clit, causing her to clench around Sy’s girth.

“Fuck! Baby, I’m sorry, I’m so fuckin’ close,” he panted, knowing he neared the point of no return. Jessie couldn’t form words in response so instead, her half-hooded gaze found his as she nodded her understanding. She was right there with him.

Her head fell to his shoulder, looking down at where they were joined and seeing Sy’s bare cock disappear inside her. She unintentionally clenched at the sight, pulling a string of curses from Sy as his rhythm faltered and he spilled himself deep inside her. Following close behind, Jessie’s body shuddered, her walls milking every last drop of Sy’s release.

They remained like that, wrapped in each other’s embrace for what could have been seconds or minutes as they came down from their high. Eventually, Sy pulled out, resulting in a trail of cum to escape as well.

“Oh shit.”

Jessie didn’t need to open her eyes to know that Sy had just noticed the lack of condom.

“It’s okay,” she reassured, letting herself lay back on the table. “I’m still on birth control.” Not trusting her legs to hold her, she decided that the table was as good a place as any to rest for a minute.

She heard Sy move around the room, turning the tap on and off before a wet cloth gently swiped over her core. Soon, she was lifted into Sy’s arms as he walked them, completely naked, out of the kitchen.

Mikey was usually the one to wrap himself around her for a post-sex cuddle. She had to admit, clinging to Sy like a koala, she could see the appeal.

Sy assumed that the room not currently occupied by Mike would be their bedroom and he was pleased to see he was right. Gently, he laid Jessie on the bed, putting one of her blankets over her so she wouldn’t get cold as he searched for something comfortable for her to wear.

As much as he liked her skinny jeans, they were not the most comfortable for an evening of lounging at home. He opened every dresser drawer, pulling items out as he went. At the very bottom, he found the clothing he had left behind, neatly folded and organized. He distinctly remembered telling Mike to shove his box of clothes at the back of their closet along with his few other belongings but one of them had apparently disregarded his request in favor of giving him his own drawer.

He pulled on fresh underwear, his favorite black sweatpants and one of his old t-shirts before dressing Jessie in her own flannel bottoms and another one of his shirts.

“I was supposed to be the one doting on you.” Jessie gave him a sleepy little pout. The look was so adorable he couldn’t help but kiss her.

“Mike said you’ve been workin’ yourself ragged all week and ya made me an amazin’ dinner for tonight—which I hopefully didn’t ruin by interruptin’ ya. The least I can do is clean up the mess I made.”

The sound of a door opening pulled their attention to the hall where an amused Mike stood with his arms crossed.

“I figured that it was safe to come out since the building has stopped shaking.” Mike laughed as he dodged a pillow Jessie threw his way. “Sorry, Sweetcheeks but I’m fucking starving.”

“Dinner might have gotten a little cold by now. Can you put the stove on medium and stir the pot every now and then?”

“On it.”

Whenever Jessie entrusted part of her cooking to Mike he took the task very seriously. He would be damned if he ruined her careful efforts by letting something burn or overboil. She’d made something with a French name which she had said was essentially beef stew with a red wine base. His stomach had been growling non-stop for hours.

Sy put a hand out to help Jessie up.

“The food smells great, Sweetheart,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Let’s go put Mike out of his misery, I bet he’s been waitin’ all day to get a taste.”

They made their way across the small apartment, still holding hands.

“You would lose that bet. He’s been sneaking bites whenever I go to the bathroom.”

When they joined Mike in the now quiet kitchen, he was just finishing up setting the table.

“You’re lucky the kitchen wall is made of brick or we would not be getting our security deposit back.”

Mike had pulled the table out of the corner to allow for a third chair to be added, making the damaged wood visible. They had no attachment to the table they had picked up for thirty dollars on marketplace so the sight just made the three of them laugh.

“You should check the food and I’ll go get my gaming chair.”

Jessie stirred the contents of the large dutch oven, nodding to herself when she deemed the food ready for consumption. “Sy, can you slice the breed?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She pointed him to the knife, cutting board and the wicker basket, instructing him to put a clean towel under the bread. It was still warm as Sy sliced it and he was all the more impressed as the crust crackled and the light, fluffy inside was revealed.

Mike rolled into the kitchen, using his chair as a sort of scooter by putting one knee on the seat while his other leg pushed off the floor. Save for their bed and mattress, that was the most expensive item of furniture in the entire apartment. Once they’d found all the communal pieces of furniture, Mike had used his remaining savings to finally buy a decent chair for his home office.

After graduation, Mike and Jessie had both searched for jobs in a multitude of cities. Sy had just been stationed in Fort Campbell pending his deployment and with Mike working in computer programming, he was able to find a fully remote job with a company which was, ironically, based in North Carolina near Sy’s old base.

The deciding factor had been Jessie finding that Pittsburgh was a good place to be for someone looking to make it in publishing. Moving there left them farther apart than they wanted but Mike and Sy had convinced her that it was the best long term move for her career to start out in one of the top cities for her industry.

“Who gets to sit on Butt Stallion?”

“I’m sorry,” Sy looked over his shoulder as he placed the bread in the basket and folded the towel over it to keep it warm, “did you just call your chair Butt Stallion?”

“Hell yes, I did,” Mike said, spinning the chair to point at the giant unicorn print on the backrest. “Butt Stallion.”

Most men would probably have balked at the idea of having a unicorn print anything in their office but Mike had been thrilled to order that design. Unicorns fucking rocked. It didn’t hurt that the whole collection had been on clearance either. Apparently the way to attract female gamers was not to use an aesthetic reminiscent of a five year old’s princess tea party. Who knew.

“If you’re offerin’ up Butt Stallion, I won’t say no.”

“Have at her.”

They took their seats around the table, Sy sitting at the end with Jessie and Mike on either side. Taking his first bite, Sy released a low groan, immediately shoveling another spoonful into his mouth.

“That good?”

“Sweetheart, this isn’t good, it’s fuckin’ fantastic.”

Jessie preened under the praise. Cooking meals for her boys was definitely one of her favorite ways to show her love. Mikey loved to eat and he made sure to always show his appreciation when she made more elaborate meals.

Mike didn’t mean to let Jessie do most of the household chores but she didn’t have any specific schedule and if happened more often than not that Mike would get home to freshly washed sheets or sparkling clean floors. Since he didn’t want Jessie to feel like she had a child rather than a boyfriend, he usually did the dishes or made supper on weekdays.

“So, what are your plans while you’re here? Other than marathon sex with Jessie, I mean.”

“I dunno. I guess I was so focused on gettin’ home that I didn’t really think ‘bout what came after.”

“Did your parents say if they were coming finally?”

“I think they said they had a flight next Monday evenin’. They wanted to come out when you were both back at work.”

They’d each managed to take some time off while Sy was home. Since Mike worked remote, he mostly took half days because that still allowed Sy to hang out and talk if Mike wasn’t in a meeting. Jessie took Mondays and Fridays off both weeks, giving them long weekends together.

“They won’t be staying here will they?” Jessie didn’t mean to sound unwelcoming but the apartment was not made to house five adults and she was not thrilled at the idea of Sy arranging for his parents to stay with them without so much as a warning.

“Don’t worry, Sweetheart, last I heard they had their eye on an Airbnb.”

“Good, that would have made for awkward breakfasts. This apartment is not as soundproof as I thought.”

Jessie laughed. “I could have told you that. You scream like a banshee whenever you play online.”

Pausing with his spoon halfway to his mouth, Mike’s head tilted to the side with the most adorable little frown.

“Is that why you always go to the library when I play? I thought you just took advantage of the nights I was busy to go out.”

“Mike, I use an e-reader, I don’t have any other reason to go to the library. Haven’t you ever noticed there are never any books lying around?”

Mike looked over his shoulder at the pristine living room, seeming to picture what it looked like seventy-two hours prior. Though Jessie had cleaned any clutter in the apartment, she was right about there never being any books on the coffee table or by the bed.

“Shit…” He scratched the back of his head with a wince. “Sorry, Sweetcheeks.”

Jessie simply smiled fondly. “It’s okay. It forces me to get some work done without procrastinating. When you had that marathon gaming weekend I got three separate freelance jobs finished.”

She didn’t speak much about her freelance jobs since there wasn’t much she could say about them but they knew that beta reading stories for aspiring writers was not always an easy task. There were times where Mike could see her cringing from across the room. Nonetheless, she had perfected the shit sandwich method in order to provide professional and constructive feedback.

“Still, I’ll try and watch it from now on.”

The rest of dinner went by in much of the same way. There was some good natured bickering, Mike and Jessie caught Sy up on what had been going on in their lives and Sy told a few funny stories from his deployment that weren’t classified.

The boys did the dishes, refusing to allow Jessie to help so they sat her down at the table with a cup of herbal tea and had her ‘participate’ by telling them where everything belonged. Once the kitchen was back to spotless, they all cuddled up on the couch with a movie that had been released while Sy was away. It was the latest in one of Sy’s favorite series and neither Jessie nor Mike had seen it yet, preferring to watch it for the first time all together.

Squeezing three people on their couch was not the easiest of tasks since Mike and Sy both insisted on having as much of their body as possible in contact with Jessie’s. Eventually Sy settled on one end with Leah resting her back against his side. Mike was stretched out on the remaining length of the couch with his head on Jessie’s lap.

When Sy noticed Jessie beginning to nod off, he made Mike sit up so Jessie could stretch out instead, her head resting on Mike’s lap and her feet over Sy’s. By the time the credit began to roll over 2 hours later, Jessie was fast asleep.

Sy carefully stood, moving Jessie’s feet to the couch before lifting her into his arms. The fact that she was already wearing her sleep clothes allowed him to let her sleep and simply tuck her into bed.

“Wanna follow me to the roof?” Mike asked as Sy shut the bedroom door.

Going up to the roof would allow them to speak freely without worrying about waking Jessie.

“Sure, lemme just grab a beer.”

“And a jacket. With the wind it can get pretty cold up there.”

Sy found a thick hoodie in the entryway closet and took two beers from the fridge before following Mike out into the hall and up the stairs.

They sat on the old patio furniture Mike had dragged up. He didn’t smoke very frequently anymore but on the few occasions he did, he made sure it wouldn’t smell in the apartment. He made quick work of rolling his joint then lit it and took a long drag.

“I need to ask ya something before ya get done with that. And I need ya to be honest with me.”

In a surprisingly considerate move, Mike blew his smoke away from Sy. He noted that he’d also sat himself down wind so it wouldn’t blow back onto them.

“Okay, what’s going on?”

“Do you wanna get married one day?”

Mike’s eyes narrowed, a small smirk pulling at his lips. “I know gay marriage is legal but I think marrying your cousin is still frowned upon.”

Sy rolled his eyes, resisting the urge to punch Mike in the arm. Of course Mike would crack jokes when Sy was trying to have a serious conversation.

“I mean in general.” Sy shifted in his seat, taking a moment to uncap his beer. “Forget who you’d be marryin’, is marriage something ya want?”

Mike fiddled with his grinder, using his thumb to spin the top. 

“I don’t know, it’s not really something I ever thought about.” Okay, that was not entirely true. Mike had briefly considered what it would be like to get married when Jessie had gone down a Pinterest rabbit hole and was looking at different wedding color schemes. He took another inhale of his joint, holding the smoke in for a little longer than normal before finally blowing it out. “Do you? Want to get married, I mean?”

He looked at Sy from the corner of his eye, not wanting Sy to catch his gaze and read him as easily as an open book.

“Growin’ up the way I did, how could I not? If I’m half as happy as my parent after thirty years of marriage I’ll be a lucky fuckin’ man.” His parents were the picture of wedded bliss. They’d been high school sweethearts and voted best couple in their yearbook. “Pop still talks about how beautiful mama was on their weddin’ day.”

Mike’s body went stiff for just a moment before he seemed to force himself to lean back in his seat.

“Yeah, well, I’m glad mom never got married. The fucking jizz donor would have have gotten half of every dime she made and he didn’t deserve that.”

The tone of Mike’s voice didn’t match the words he’d spoken. To the untrained ear, he would likely have sounded angry but Sy knew there was something else in there.

“So you’re sayin’ you’d prefer it if ya didn’t get married?” Sy pushed. “Even knowin’ that you’d never do that to Jessie?”

“I don’t know, Nate!” Mike stood from his chair, standing to put his joint out against the brick wall of the interior roof access door. He turned and leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. “Do I like the idea of Jessie being my wife? Fuck yeah, I do. Is getting married something I’ve always dreamed about? No, absolutely not. It’s not like we can both marry her anyway so if getting married is something you want then it’s better if I don’t think about it too much.”

Sy’s face went soft, realizing what was bothering his cousin.

“Mike,” he said, keeping his voice calm and reassuring, “can you sit down? Please?”

The younger man looked up, his eyes betraying the emotional turmoil he was experiencing. Wordlessly, he obeyed, reclaiming his seat. 

“If ya disagree with what I’m about to say, the conversation ends here,” Sy affirmed. “I won’t say anything to Jessie and we don’t bring the subject up again until one of us is ready to pick out a ring.”

He paused, waiting for Mike to give a small nod in understanding.

“You’ve done a lot of growin’ up in the last two years. It’s like meetin’ Jessie has helped ya see what I’ve always known. You didn’t suddenly become a man that’s capable of takin’ responsibility and bein’ a good stable boyfriend. You’ve always been that guy, it just took the right girl to make ya want to be him instead of the party boy. I’m so fuckin’ proud of ya for steppin’ up. I know that our relationship with Jessie is unconventional to say the least but I’m glad you guys have each other. It makes it easier to be away knowin’ you’re there, that she’s not just sittin’ at home waitin’ on a phone call that might never come.”

“Nate…” Mike was starting to think he knew where things were going and he didn’t like it.

Sy ignored his interruption, needing to get everything out. “I didn’t mean for this to be a conversation about who gets to marry her. I know that legally speakin’ it can only be one of us but I think we can both agree that if she wanted to marry us both, it wouldn’t matter who’s name was on that piece of paper, she would be my wife just as much as she would be yours. The reason I asked at all is because…” Sy took a deep breath, steeling himself for the last part of his speech. “I want to marry Jessie before I go back. If something happens while I’m away, I want her to get the death benefits. It would give me peace of mind knowin’ that you’d have the extra income and that ya wouldn’t have to carry the financial burden on top of everything else. But if being legally married to Jessie is something that is really important to ya, I will respect that. The payments would stop if she ever got remarried anyway.”

The silence stretched out as Mike processed everything he’d just heard. His brain wasn’t working at full speed but he was still lucid enough to fully understand the gravity of Sy’s words and it scared the shit out of him.

“What brought this on, Nate?”

Sy palmed his nap with one hand as he picked at the label of his beer with the other.

“We uh… We had some close calls.”

Mike shook his head, his mouth agape as he stared at his cousin.

“It’s more than that. You’re the most annoyingly rational person I know, you wouldn’t be jumping to marriage from a few close calls.”

“You know I can’t talk specifics,” Sy grumbled but Mike didn’t let him avoid the question that easily.

“I’m not asking you to give me specifics, I’m asking what the fuck happened out there to make you think about all this? This isn’t just a passing thought. You had the time to think about what it would do to me and Jessie if we lost you. You had the time to think that maybe having a bit of extra cash would make the grieving process easier. You had the time to look up whether or not that money would still be coming in if Jessie got remarried to me. What the fuck happened?”

Mike’s voice had gotten progressively louder as he spoke and Sy was grateful they were having this conversation outside of Jessie’s earshot.

Sy leaned forward, resting both elbows on his knees and rubbing one hand over his mouth.

“Everything,” he whispered. “Everything happened. Not just the shit we lived, the shit we saw…” he swallowed the lump in his throat, not sure whether he should continue but Mike leaned forward as well, showing Sy that he had his full attention. “The first time we saw a kid get killed, we were in the city. The kids were runnin’ around the square. We could hear them laughin’ from where we were waiting in the humvees. Then one of ‘em stepped on a landmine.” It wasn’t necessary to say anything more. “The second time, it was in a small village. This little girl was in the path of a stray bullet. The next half dozen times it was a lot of the same. Different cities. Different circumstances. What never changed was the fact that those kids were in the wrong place at the wrong time. The worst sound I will ever hear is the gut wrenchin’ scream of a mother findin’ her child like that. I can’t get it out of my head.”

Sy’s eyes burned but he fought back against the emotions bubbling under the surface or he would break down before he finished. He was used to it by now. He’d been keeping those emotions at bay for months.

“I’m not sayin’ it’s the same, but… I keep picturin’ that scream comin’ from Jessie.”

Mike was not above pulling Sy into a bear hug. The distance and the angle of their chairs made it more of an awkward side hug but neither man complained. There was no telling how long they stayed that way but when Mike felt Sy’s grip loosen, he pulled back, leaving only a firm hand on Sy’s nape.

“I get where you’re coming from. Money isn’t everything, though it sure as hell makes life easier when you have it. But Nate, asking Jessie to marry you for the death benefits?” He shook his head at the idea. “How do you think that’s gonna make her feel? I don’t disagree that it makes sense for you to be the one she’s legally married to one day but she deserves better than a half-assed proposal and a courthouse wedding. Your career is already taking so much away from you both, don’t let it take this from her too.”

Objectively, Sy knew Mike was right but he still couldn’t help but feel like he needed to do… more.

Sy cleared his throat taking a sip of beer to chase away the tightness. “Are you guys doing alright with rent and stuff? Do you need me to send more money?”

Though he recognized the change in topic for the diversion it was, Mike didn’t stop it. They’d both said what needed to be said and they’d both gotten their point across.

Since signing their lease, Jessie and Mike only allowed Sy to pay a few hundred dollars for rent and utilities each month. They didn’t want him paying a third of everything without actually living there so they had compromised by letting him contribute as much as a storage unit would cost since that was essentially the only benefit to having an apartment while living on base.

“Yeah, we’re doing okay. We aren’t starving and all the bills get paid on time but Jessie’s been working side-hustles to try to put some money aside. Her job isn’t as hands-on as she’d hoped so she’s probably going to have to pay more for an editor if she ever decides to self-publish one of her manuscripts.”

“She ever end up tellin’ ya what the hell she’s writin’ about?”

Talking about Jessie was the best way to lighten the mood. They were both like love-struck puppies and any mention of Jessie immediately made them smile. Seeing her picture every night before he went to sleep had gotten Sy through some thought ops.

“Nope. I know she used to write fanfiction which is posted online somewhere for everyone to see but she won’t even tell me what her username is or what fandom she posted in. We have a deal that if I read something and guess that it’s hers she’ll come clean but I haven’t had any luck so far.”

Sy didn’t know much about fandoms or fanfiction. He’d mostly heard the popular kids in school make jokes that fanfiction was basically just bad porn written by friendless middle-schoolers. Back then, he hadn’t had time to open any book other than the mandatory reading so he was not in a position to judge the veracity of those claims.

“So she probably writes romance then, right?”

“That’s my guess but who knows.” Mike leaned back, crossing his feet on the table. “Maybe I’ve been reading enemies to lovers when I should have been reading eldritch horror. If I at least knew which actor she was thirsting over I’d know if I was on the right track.”

A sly grin pulled at the corner of Sy’s lips. “You still talk to Jessie’s old roommates?”

His cousin frowned at him. “Yeah,” he confirmed, a hint of suspicion in his voice. “Why?”

“I’ve got an idea. Gimme your phone.”

When Mike handed over the device, Sy checked the time, noting it was just past eleven which, for a bunch of recent grads who liked to party their weekends away, was still early. Perfect.

Putting it on speaker, Sy called the one person who knew their girl better than anyone else.

“Mike! I wasn’t expecting to hear from you guys this week. Isn’t Sy coming home?”

“Actually, Mel, we’re both callin’. Mike and I need your help with something.”

“Damn Sy! Glad you got home safe. What’s up?”

“We’re surprisin’ Jessie with a trip up to this little cabin in the middle of nowhere for a quiet weekend. We wanna plan for a movie night but there won’t be any Wi-Fi or cell reception out there so we won’t be able to just scroll through Netflix until we agree on something. The plan is to download a couple of options but we can’t agree on anything. Mike suggested we pick something with her favourite actor to get her all hot an’ bothered but this dipshit says her favourite actor is Channing Tatum when clearly it’s Chris Evans. Can ya please tell Mike he’s wrong and I’m right?”

Catching on to the ruse, Mike’s face lit up. “You can’t tell me Magic Mike is a bad choice! It’s literally meant to make girls wet!”

“You don’t seriously believe Jessie would prefer to watch a bunch of hairless pretty boys shake their asses in speedos over a fucking super soldier.”

“First,” Mel cut in “lemme just say it’s fucking adorable that you guys are surprising Jessie with a romantic getaway. Second, you’re both dipshits because you’re both wrong. Her favourite hunk is Alexander Skarsgard. She was fucking obsessed with True Blood even if she refuses to rewatch anything beyond season four. I promise that if you make it through Tarzan, she’ll ride you boys like wild broncos all night long.”

Mike placed a series of excited smacks on Sy’s shoulder and Sy had to wave him off before Mel could hear and question what was happening on their end of the line.

“Got it. Thanks Mel.”

“No problem! Tell her to give me a call to thank me for all the orgasms.”

As soon as they hung up, Mike took his phone back and began furiously typing.

“Alexander Skarsgard plays Eric Northman in True Blood,” he said more to himself than to Sy. He continued muttering as he typed, eventually sitting back and scrolling through what Sy imagined were his search results.

“What exactly are ya lookin’ for?” Sy finished off his beer, placing the empty out of the way in case Mike got too excited and began pacing.

“I’m hoping that one of the usernames will jump out at me but if they don’t, I’ll click through a couple of users to see if the posting timelines fit with when I know Jessie was active and start reading those.”

“How many results are there?”

“For this pairing? A hundred and forty-two.”

Sy assumed a pairing was a specific couple though he wasn’t sure how Mike would know which one to look at.

“You’re hopin; that you’ll just stumble on the right story out of a hundred and forty-two results? We don’t even know if that’s the right character.”

“It’s a hell of a lot better than ten thousand plus results. This is manageable. Jessie didn’t have a computer until she was fourteen and she hasn’t posted anything new online since she started working on her own novels two years ago. That narrows down the timeline.”

Sy opened his mouth to tell Mike that he was grasping at straws but Mike whooped before he could get a word out.

“Oh shit… Oh fuck, this has to be hers.”

Stunned, Sy’s mouth now hung open for a different reason. “I know I got ya a lead but you’ve been lookin’ at this for months. Now, after two full minutes, you think you’ve actually found it?”

“The fucking username is ‘Jasey_Rays’ this has to be her.”

With a shake of his head, Sy indicated he didn’t understand the link. Mike looked up from his phone long enough to answer the unspoken question.

“Online, people tend to call you by a shortened version of your username. Usually it’s the first word or first syllables. Having her online name sound like her real name is an easy choice.” He’d always wondered why some of Mike’s friends called him Jabba. Apparently it was because his gaming username was ‘JabbaMikeez’. “Then there’s the fact that ‘Jasey_Rays’ is also a play on Jasey Rae which is a song by All Time Low, a band she most definitely knows seeing as she grew up in fucking Baltimore.”

He had to concede that what Mike was saying made a lot of sense. Even if he did sound like he was trying to prove a conspiracy theory by connecting pictures with red string.

“Is Jessie into CNC?” Mike asked after a moment of silence.

“What?”

“Consensual non-consent. You know, where she pretends to fight you off and struggle but it’s with the intention of you overpowering her and giving it to her rough.”

No amount of locker-room talk could have prepared Sy for that question or the casual way Mike described CNC. Sex, or lack of it, was a frequent topic of conversation on deployment but Sy didn’t usually contribute much of his own interests.

“Why does it matter?”

“I’m checking the story tags to see if it sounds like something Jessie would write.”

“Why are you askin’ me? It’s not like I’d have been able to do that with her from an ocean away.”

“I don’t know,” Mike made a vague gesture towards Sy, “you give off dom vibes, maybe you guys talk about these things when you have phone sex.”

“We’ve never had phone sex.”

Mike dropped his hands to his lap, his head jerking towards Sy.

“What?! Bro, what the fuck are you waiting for?”

“There’s no fuckin’ privacy when I get the sat phone. It’s not like I could take care of myself and I don’t want the guys overhearin’ and have them know what gets Jessie off.”

A shiver travelled down Sy’s spine at the idea of his squad jerking off to thoughts of Jessie.

“So what, you stick to sending her horny texts and dick pics?”

“Mike, if I’m usin’ the sat phone it’s because there’s no fuckin’ cell service. Even when I was out here I never sexted with Jessie.”

“Now I understand why your banging was on the Richter scale earlier. Jesus…”

He went back to scrolling his phone. “Okay, which one of these do you wanna read? We’ve got—”

“What do you mean which one do I wanna read? This is your harebrained idea.”

“Yeah but if we both read something and I’m right we can both pick a scene and act it out with her.”

That… did sound kind of fun. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t interested in exploring some kinkier practices with Jessie. Not CNC. But Mike hadn’t been totally wrong about the dom vibes either. This was a good way to bring that up. That was, if Mike was right and he’d really found Jessie’s account.

“I’m not pickin’ anything to read unless I know those are hers. That username business could just be a coincidence.”

“You try finding proof then.”

Mike shoved his phone in Sy’s hands, instead busying himself by rolling another joint.

The website on the screen looked similar to a library catalogue. There were no pictures or personal posts, just titles and summaries. It was no wonder that trying to find Jessie’s account without any hint on where to start would have been an impossible task.

Though he loved Jessie to death, the idea of reading vampire porn was not an appealing one. There was no way he was going down that rabbit hole without being absolutely certain it was hers.

Sy was about halfway through the list when one of the titles caught his attention. He recognized it because it was a lyric from a song he’d heard a thousand times. He’d held Jessie in his arms as she sang every word on the weekend they first met. “What’s Generation Kill?”

“Nothing sexy about the show so I wouldn’t expect there to be any smut in those stories.” Mike obviously misunderstood why Sy was asking. “It’s the HBO version of a story by a reporter who spent some time in Iraq with US Marines,” he explained, holding his joint between his lips as he dug his zippo out of his pocket.

Dammit. That actually did sort of confirm it. “This is hers,” he stated plainly, handing the phone back to Mike.

“Wait really?” he asked, a plume of smoke escaping as he spoke. “How do you know?” 

“The chapter titles of the Generation Kill story are lyrics from the song Hero of War by Rise Against. Jessie knows every word by heart. That’s as close to confirmation as you’re gonna get without askin’ her.”

“Nate, you’re a fucking genius, you know that?”

Sensing that he had well and truly lost Mike’s attention—not that he minded—Sy stood from his chair. “I’m gonna go join Jessie. Don’t stay up too late.”

“I won’t. Thanks for your help.”

Sy made his way inside, double checking that the door was still propped open and Mike wouldn’t get locked out. As quietly as he could, Sy stripped down to his underwear and slipped into bed beside Jessie. She was on her stomach with one knee raised in a half frog but when Sy put an arm over her back she rolled over, mirroring her previous position with her head on Sy’s chest and her other leg over his stomach.

Holding Jessie tight against him, Sy breathed in the scent of her shampoo, committing it to memory. It was surprising how much he’d missed the little things like that or the way she hopped around when trying to put on extra skinny jeans. At twenty-two years old when he’d been fresh out of college, twenty years seemed like child’s play. Now, it was beginning to look like a lifetime of missed moments just like this one.

Eventually, Jessie’s soft breathing lulled him into a light sleep. It wasn’t until Mike joined that he was able to drift off completely, knowing that his family was safe and sound by his side.

Jessie woke to an empty bed, something she hadn’t expected to happen with both of her men being home. Looking at her phone, she saw that it was only shortly after nine which was still early on a day where no one had to be anywhere.

She stepped out of the bedroom, noting that the office and living room were both empty which meant the boys were likely out or in the kitchen. By the sound of things, it was the latter. After a pitstop in the bathroom, Jessie crossed the apartment, pausing when she heard Mikey speak.

“Dammit, I think I fucked this one too.”

Remaining out of sight under the arch that separated the small dining area from the living room, Jessie allowed herself to eavesdrop on their conversation.

“You were supposed to turn the heat down,” Sy’s still gruff voice answered.

“I did! It’s not chunky like the first one, but it looks nothing like the video.”

“Mike, the eggs are gettin’ cold and the ham is gettin’ burnt.”

“I’m trying! Easy hollandaise my ass.”

Realizing what had the boys bickering so early in the day, Jessie moved out of her hiding spot. Eggs Benedict were her favorite breakfast food but she didn’t make them often because they were a hassle to prepare. Jessie feared the tension might boil over if she didn’t intervene and help them out.

“You can reheat the eggs in boiling water when you’re ready to plate.”

Both men spun towards Jessie, Mike holding a saucepan and a whisk, Sy holding a slotted spoon. If they hadn’t been mid freakout, Jessie would have found the sight quite amusing.

“Hey Sweetcheeks.”

The kitchen was a mess of pots and pans, three plates sitting on the counter with English muffins waiting to be toasted.

“Show me the sauce,” she requested gently as she approached Mike. He was wearing a faded grey t-shirt with blue and black plaid flannel pants. He was adorably sleep rumpled but his eyes betrayed his anxiety which was likely caused by his failed attempts at making a hollandaise.

Jessie examined the sauce, giving it a quick stir. “The sauce broke, let me see if I can fix it instead of starting over.”

Mike’s shoulders slumped but he nodded in acceptance, putting the pot back on the double boiler.

“Can I make you coffee, then?” he offered, knowing that coffee was a safe bet. All he had to do was put the water and grounds in the machine and he knew exactly how much milk and sugar Jessie liked. He’d long since memorized how she took all of her favorite hot beverages

“Yes please,” Jessie said, placing a peck on his cheek before she turned to Sy who had apparently decided that shirts were not needed in the kitchen—even when frying Canadian bacon. He wore jersey shorts and nothing else, leaving his tanned skin on full display. “Can you get some fresh water boiling to reheat the eggs? You won’t need much since they are already cooked.”

They each focused on their respective tasks. Taking direction from Jessie, Mike put the buns in the toaster then assembled the different ingredients on the plate. Goddess that she was, Jessie managed to salvage the sauce. Though Mike could tell the texture wasn’t perfect, he prayed it would still taste good.

Before they sat down to eat, Jessie wrapped her arms around Sy’s neck, giving him a quick kiss before doing the same to Mike.

She kept him close, making sure he met her eyes as she whispered, “Thank you for making me breakfast.”

Mike touched his forehead to hers. “You’re welcome. I’m sorry you had to fix what I fucked up. Again.”

“Mikey,” she said, shaking her head, “I fuck up hollandaise two out of three times, that’s why I know how to fix it. You guys did ninety percent of the work, I’m not going to complain about helping you for the last ten.”

His arms tightened around Jessie, crushing her to his chest as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. When he finally released her, he had her take a seat on Butt Stallion at the head of the table. Every time Mike made that sort of mistake, it felt like he was lacking a rudimentary skill he should have already developed as a twenty-three year old. And every time, Jessie was there with a few helpful tips and encouraging words to help him bridge the gaps. It didn’t make the discouragement magically go away, but it sure as hell made him feel better. He hoped one day he’d be able to return the favour.

It was one of the reasons he was so hell bent on reading her work. He wouldn’t be able to help with the editing but he could discuss ideas with her, read her drafts as she progressed to give feedback or simply be there to talk her off the ledge when she wanted to throw her computer at the wall. He wanted to be her safe space the same way she was for him.

She’d said before that she loved talking about her fanfiction online but that she didn't discuss her book ideas publicly because she didn’t want anyone to make the connection between her (hopefully) paid and unpaid works. Something about how her novel was essentially fanfiction with the names changed. He had a feeling that, like him, she was probably her own harshest critic and he worried that without someone having her back, she might never have the courage to put her first book out there.

Beside him, Jessie took a giant bite of her food, moaning at the taste.

“That good?” Sy joked, throwing her own words back at her.

“Absolutely.”

With a weight lifted off his shoulders, Mike tucked into his meal. He’d had no idea what to expect, having never eaten that dish before, but he could easily see why it was his girl’s favorite.

Once Jessie was pleasantly distracted by her food, he decided it would be a good time to put into effect the plan he’d come up with the night before. He’d read two of the shorter fics he suspected were Jessie’s and one longer story. The contents had been both expected and unexpected.

It was obvious there was a lot of thought put into building the world from the longer fic. There was both depth and complexity to the characters and their backgrounds which impressed him. The shorter stories had been straight up sex but it hadn’t made him cringe like he thought he would. No, instead, they’d made him hard.

He shot a glance at Sy, nudging him under the table. Sy raised a questioning brow but seemed to guess what was about to happen from the look on Mike’s face.

“Hey Sweetcheeks,” Jessie looked up from her food, pausing to take a sip of her coffee, “I saw this post on Instagram and I wanted to try it with you. Finish the sentence. ‘I’ve never told a lie—’”

“‘And that makes me a liar. I’ve never made a bet, but we gamble with desire. I’ve never lit a match with intent to start a fire. But recently the flames are getting out of control.’” Mike would have been satisfied with the first sentence to prove she knew the song but of course Jessie was an overachiever. “You could at least make it a little harder. You might as well have said ‘It was never a phase, it’s a lifestyle’ and belted out the chorus to Dear Maria, Count Me In.”

She took another sip of her coffee, sitting back in her chair. 

“Alright, what about this one,” Sy said, knowing exactly what Mike was trying to prove. “‘A hero of war, is that what they see.’”

“Just medals and scars. So damn proud of me.’ As opposed to the version of the chorus from earlier in the song which is ‘A hero of war. Yeah that’s what I’ll be. And when I come home. They’ll be damn proud of me.’”

Feigning nonchalance, Mike looked down as he stabbed a piece of egg with his fork. “Seriously, all the signs were there with the emo music, I don’t know why I never thought vamp sex was your kink.” He lifted the fork to his lips, chewing the small bite as he waited for Jessie’s reaction.

Both boys waited as Jessie put the pieces together, a definite blush creeping up her cheeks. For a moment she stared wide-eyed at Mike before her mouth snapped shut and she glared at Sy. “How the hell has he been trying to figure that out for months and you get it in less than twenty-four hours?”

Sy let out a deep belly laugh. “I make a living on strategy and tactical decision-making, Sweetheart. It’s nice to be able to use it when the only thing on the line is the possibility of Mikey getting to act out vampire sex.”

Jessie’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Okay, so tactically speaking, who blabbed?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” he lied, his voice dripping with amusement.

“I mean, which one of my old roommates blabbed?”

The boys shared a guilty look.

“Technically,” Mike defended, “she just told us you had a thing for the viking vampire.”

Jessie let out an exaggerated sigh, proving she wasn’t actually mad at either of them. “And who wouldn’t? Tall, blond, gorgeous. And the fangs…” She fanned herself, batting her lashes like a school-girl.

Mike squawked. “And what are we, chopped liver?”

“Meh,” Jessie waved him off, returning her attention to her food. “You’re not that tall. Or blond. You do have nice baby fangs though.”

Mikey showed off said baby fangs with a wide grin before following her lead and taking a giant bite of his food.

“So, if Mikey wanted to act out the vampire sex, does that mean you called shotgun on the werewolf sex?” Jessie asked Sy.

Mike made a choked noise, falling into a coughing fit. Once it finally subsided enough for him to take a breath, he washed it down by chugging half his glass of orange juice.

“What werewolf sex?” he asked breathly.

“Oh, did you not see those?” she asked coily, knowing damn well he hadn’t by his near-death experience. “It’s the ones with Alcide as the male interest. He’s played by Joe Manganiello.”

Sy was actually familiar with that name. He was one of the ‘hairless pretty boys’ from Magic Mike although he was more familiar with him from his role in Spider-Man.

“I thought that was just another vampire. Isn’t that what the whole show is about?”

“Yes but it’s a world where vampires are real. Of course all the other supernaturals exist as well.”

He had to admit, if Mike was the vampire of the trio, he was undoubtedly the werewolf which made him wonder what Jessie would be. Probably a succubus. Okay, maybe more of a nymph, but you’d think she was a succubus the way she had him and Mikey all riled up.

“You know, we should do an escape room or something while Nate is in town.” Having cleaned off every last crumb from her plate, Jessie stood to put it in the sink. “Put that big brain of yours to good use,” she teased, wrapping her arms around Sy from behind. 

“Ooh, that’s a great idea, Sweetcheeks. There’s a horror room I’ve been hearing about ever since it was rated one of the top ten escape games in the world. I don’t think three people is enough to finish it in time, though.”

Sy turned his head to look at Jessie over his shoulder. “What do you say? Wanna try it out?”

“Only if one of you promises to hold my hand if I get scared.”

“Deal,” the boys answered in unison.

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Jersey

Masterlist

Pairing: HockeyPlayer!Mike x reader

Summary: Mike thought it would be a good idea to teach you how to skate. It wasn't — so he has to come up with a different plan.

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI, p-in-v sex, oral (f receiving), unprotected (at least condomless) sex, creampie, and a very needy, desperate, slightly pushy and arrogant Mikey.

Bingo: "Is that my shirt?" (you can find the bingo masterlist here)

A/N: As always, we blame @geralts-yenn for putting the idea of Mike as a hockey player in my brain. Not the field kind, the cold and violent kind. Of course.

It's also the third entry for my @henrycavillbingo card! I know I didn't exactly use the phrase of the prompt — although I did imply it — but a jersey is sort of a shirt, I guess, so it counts :")

Enjoy!

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @ellethespaceunicorn @sillyrabbit81 @littlefreya @mayloma @summersong69 @livisss @winter2112rose @changenameno @wa-ni (still not allowed to tag you, sorry :( )

“Don’t let go of me!” Who knew ice was slippery? You. You knew. Everyone knew. Yet here you were...

“I won’t let go,” Mike answered with a smile. He was the one who had assured you it would be fine. ‘Skating is fun, Sweetcheeks’ your freezing ass...

“Mike! You just almost dropped me!”

“I didn’t,” he snorted. “You almost fell, that’s not the same thing. Ow! Would you let go of my arm, before it falls off?”

You reluctantly relaxed your grip, panicking when he moved your hands from his upper arms to just below his elbow.

“What, no!” You scrambled to get closer to him.

“Babe, you won’t be able to move like that. Come on. Nothing’s gonna happen!”

“Are you sure you’re okay going backwards?” you asked. Of course, you were hoping he’d say ‘no’ and you could go back inside.

“Sweetcheeks, I’ve been doing this at least twice a week since I was six. If there was a way to skate sideways, I’d be okay doing that.” So, there was really no way around this, then? He really wasn’t going to let you off the hook?

“You said you wouldn’t let me fall!” you said, shoving Mike’s shoulder and pouting up at him. “That hurt!”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Mike mumbled. “Are you okay?”

You rubbed your elbow and nodded. “I’ll live. But I’m fucking cold.”

“Yeah, when you do it right, this is exercise...” Mike said with a grin. “Sweetcheeks, that was just a joke! Come here, please?” He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close.

“I’m sorry I’m so bad at this,” you muttered. “I know you love it, I just...”

“Babe, babe, babe, stop.” He put a hand over your mouth. “It’s okay! I thought this would be fun but... I’m clearly not a very good teacher.”

“That’s not true! I’ve seen you coach the little ones! You’re great with them!” You trailed your fingers over his cheek. He didn’t wince at the cool wetness of your glove. “That said, I really don’t think this is my scene.”

“Alright, let’s get you off the ice and in front of the fireplace,” he said, laughing. “Don’t move.”

You stayed still while he got up, and then he pulled you off the freezing surface you were still sitting on.

“My leggings are soaked,” you noted, shivering as Mike pulled you along to the edge of the lake.

“I really didn’t expect you to fall this much, babe,” he chuckled.

“We can’t all be hockey superstars, jerk,” you retorted.

“No, but most people can at least stand upright on skates!”

“I’ll stand upright in the shower, thanks,” you grumbled, “and you are not invited.” Of course, that would have had more impact if you hadn’t encountered the edge of the lake at that precise moment, causing you to lose balance and tumble face-first into the snow.

“Sorry Sweetcheeks,” Mike said, in between fits of hysterical laughter, “but that was... You looked...” He pressed his hands to his side — a well-deserved side stitch if you ever saw one! He didn’t lose his balance for a second. Jackass.

You furiously pulled the laces on the skates but they wouldn’t come off. Why wouldn’t they come off? A cry of frustration escaped you before you could help it, and... Was that a tear? Great.

“Sweetcheeks, are you cr—”

“Only out of frustration,” you snapped before he could ask. “Nothing to do with you.”

Mike helped you up and helped you walk to the rock he’d cleaned off for you when you had arrived. It wasn’t as wet as the pile of snow he’d plucked you out of, but it certainly wasn’t any warmer.

You stayed still while he took your skates off, successfully avoiding any accidents, and watched impatiently while he traded his own skates for his shoes again.

“Can you at least try to hurry?” you said, no longer able to keep your teeth from chattering.

The hot water of the shower was an absolute godsend. You’d stuck to your threat to not invite Mike. He’d have to think of another way to keep you warm — and he would. You already knew what you’d be walking into; you could already feel his hands on your hips, his face buried in your neck, exploring every inch of your skin, eager hands scrambling to grab as much boob as he could manage — arguably not your favorite part but he was cute, so you’d forgive him — and then finally...

You forced yourself out of the shower before you got to the kind of stuff you’d rather have Mike do, and dried off. As you looked around the room, you noticed a jersey hanging from the back of his desk chair. After a quick inspection — it smelled mostly clean — you put it on before making your way downstairs.

A nice fire was waiting for you there, complete with a content-looking, shirtless Mike — admittedly your favorite flavor of Mikey — lounging in front of the fireplace. “Hey, come here, it’s nice and wa—” He stopped talking mid-sentence when he finally looked up at you. “Is that my... Baaaaaaabe... You took my jersey!”

“I did,” you said. “Want it back?”

You watched him shake his head, while he dug deep to find the ability to speak. He still hadn’t managed by the time he rolled over, scrambled to his knees and crawled over to you, grasping the hem of the jersey and pressing his lips to the inside of your knee. And then, finally: “Hot. So fucking hot.” It cost him to speak, even those four little words.

His lips moved up the inside of your leg at a glacial pace — atypical for Mike, to say the least. When he made it about halfway, he seemed suddenly plagued by an epiphany: “You’re not wearing anything else, are you?”

Blue puppy eyes widened even further when you slowly shook your head, and Mike sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, biting down with force. A strangled moan stumbled out of his mouth, and you knew what you’d find if you could see the front of his sweatpants right now.

Then, he was up, slinging you over his shoulder in less than one second, and at least somewhat carefully putting you down again in the nest of blankets and pillows in front of the fireplace. His lips found your neck — and so did his tongue and his teeth, his sloppy kiss causing you to arch your back off the ground, arms desperate to grab as much of him as possible. He had other plans, though.

He sat up on his knees between your legs and looked down on you as he planned his next move. Except Mike couldn’t plan. Like, at all... So you let your knees fall to the side and pulled the jersey up so it wasn’t covering you. It was enough to throw him off his game.

He shrugged in a ‘yeah, I could eat’ kind of way and dove face-first between your legs, wasting no time whatsoever. No teasing, no slow start, nothing. Just his eager mouth on your pussy, tongue flat against your clit — just the way you liked it — settling into an easy rhythm that would definitely get you where you needed to be.

A focused, goal-oriented Mikey was a rare sight to behold. In fact, you’d go as far as to say there were two possible scenarios in which he came out to play; on the ice, and between your legs doing exactly what he was doing now. The discussion of the subject had gone about as Mikey-esque as possible. According to him, if he lost focus in these situations, someone would get hurt — you personally felt there was some kind of a difference between a cramped jaw and a shattered kneecap or other serious injuries, but he didn’t see it that way. Not that you were going to complain about it, because focused, goal-oriented Mike got the job done. Quickly.

He moaned — a sexy, sweet little sound — when you grabbed his head, weaving your fingers into his dark curls before clenching them into a tight fist. It wasn’t that he needed the guidance as much as you needed something to hold on to...

“Fuck, Mikey...” He had you on the edge already, but you knew better than to tell him you were close. Any time you’d tried that, it had fried something in his brain and all consistency in his technique had disappeared like snow in July. Not good. So, you’d learned to keep your mouth shut so he could keep that gentle, diligent rhythm intact, until... “Oh god, yes!”

Every muscle in your body tensed and you screwed your eyes shut as he pushed you over the edge. You barely noticed the satisfied little hum that came from him — standard procedure, and nothing compared to the other signs of his elevated sense of self-importance. In other words; the least unbearable part of the cocky attitude that bubbled up whenever you came on his tongue.

You groaned when he threw himself on top of you, probably sort of accidentally crushing you with his full weight, but you forgave him when he kissed you silly, giving you plenty of opportunity to taste yourself on his tongue before he moved on to delivering sloppy kisses to your neck.

“Get on your knees,” he demanded, grabbing your wrists as you reached for the hem of the jersey. “That stays on. Get on your knees and turn around.”

“Do you have—”

“No, I don’t. I need to feel you,” he whined — you almost felt bad for him.

“Mikey...” you warned. If you went there with him, there was no way you were ever turning back.

“Baaaaabe,” he whined again. God, those eyes were killing you. “You know you’re it for me, right? Fuck, you’re wearing my name, my number... You had to know that would drive me at least a little nuts, right? Please, please, please, pretty, pretty please, let me... Just... Please?” He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, grinding his hips against you.

You’d seen him needy and desperate — of course you had! If you kissed this man’s neck twice at a party and whispered a single even remotely sexual thing in his ear, he’d already be begging to let him take you home. This, however, was next level...

His mouth stopped begging, but his eyes definitely didn’t, and the brutally possessive grasp on your hips didn’t relax either. He wasn’t going to quit until he got what he wanted, that much was obvious. That left only one question: were you going to give it to him?

“Sweetcheeks, I’m not kidding,” he muttered after a few moments. “Come on... Face down, ass up—” You clamped a hand over his mouth before he could finish that sentence, and as you did so, you realized something.

“You don’t seriously want me from behind because you can look at... Oh my god, that’s why you don’t want me to take this damn jersey off, isn’t it?” ‘Vaguely indignant’ would be an accurate description of your tone. Maybe more than ‘vaguely’.

“Ehhhh...” The sound of a man who had been well and truly fucking busted. “Okay so, out of all the times I’ve looked at you and thought ‘woohoo, she’s mine!’, right now you’re so, so, so the mine-est... My name. My number. My sweet, perfect, wet little pussy. Okay? Mine.” He dragged you down to the floor, where he latched his mouth onto your neck again, this time with so much tongue that you begged him to stop. “Only if you let me fuck my pretty girl from behind!”

“That’s blackmail!” You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yup! Now surrender!” He grabbed your boob with one hand and tickled your side with the other before reaching between your legs. “Come on, you’re soaking wet and I know you need me as much as I need you, so... Let me bone you already!”

“I have one demand!” you said, wiping the tears off your cheeks as you tried to catch your breath. No one could make you laugh like your professional idiot.

“Hey, we’re negotiating! That’s progress!” he teased, pinching your nipple through the fabric of the jersey.

“I get to be on top, first,” you said, glancing over your shoulder at Mike, who didn’t see, because he had his face buried in your neck.

“Deal!” He snapped his head up, almost head-butting you in the nose. “Sorry! But yeah, deal, deal, deal! Fucking deal!” He scrambled to his knees and got comfortable in front of the couch, leaning his back against it and reaching his arms out towards you. “Here! Get over here, now!”

You crawled towards him, slowly, giving him your best fuck-me eyes as you let your hands slide up his legs — agonizingly slowly, of course — and hooked his fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants. “You want me, baby?”

The sweetest whimpers escaped him when you wrapped your fingers around his cock, but they turned into pitiful whines when you leaned forward. “No, I don’t want you to suck my cock!” Words you thought you’d never hear from this guy... “I need you to turn around and fucking sit. On. It.”

“Beg for it one more time, baby, please?” you asked sweetly. “You’re so cute when you beg for my pussy.”

“My pussy,” he teased. “Please, please, please, please, please come here and ride me.”

You paused for a moment, locking eyes with him, taunting him as you decided whether or not that was good enough, and quickly coming to the conclusion that he hadn’t been wrong when he said you needed him, too. So, you turned around, revelling in the sounds of eager anticipation from Mike as you moved to where he wanted you. Seconds later, you felt his tip at your entrance, and you knew the time for teasing was over.

“Fuck,” he said, twice, three times... You lost count, what with being a little too busy relishing the feeling of his skin on yours for the first time since you’d met him.

“Good?” Stupid question...

“You’re killing me, Sweetcheeks,” he moaned, clenching his fists tightly around the bunched up fabric of the jersey at your hips.

You moved slowly, knowing he would go absolutely crazy over it, and it wasn’t long before he was begging you for more. As far as you were concerned, he could forget about that, but he had other plans. He pushed you forward and quickly wormed his way out from under you, getting on his knees behind you, hurrying to get back inside.

“Can’t do this, Sweetcheeks,” he huffed, adorably out of breath. “Show up like this and then tease me. It’s not fair. Bad girl!” He playfully smacked your ass.

“Don’t act like you hate it,” you said as you reached for a pillow — playtime was over, and you were going to need one to scream in.

Lo and behold, he didn’t even pretend to hold back on the first thrust, much less any of the ones that followed, and you were left crying and moaning into that pillow as he railed you into the next century. You could tell from his breathing and his soft swearing that he wasn’t going to last much longer.

“Babe, can I— oh fuck...” This idiot. The answer would have been ‘yes’, but still... “Please tell me I’m not gonna be a dad...”

“I figured it would be better to see if you’d grow up first,” you laughed as he pulled out and lay down next to you with a hopelessly adorable concerned look on his face. Slowly, a smile broke through as you assured him it was okay.

You snuggled into his side, and he pulled a blanket over the both of you. “Hey, Sweetcheeks,” he whispered, pressing his lips to your temple. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you sighed.

He pulled on the jersey to get you as close to him as possible. “And you’re so totally wearing this to my next game.”

[geralts-yenn]

Pranked

Mikey (Hellraiser) x reader (female reader, no race, body type or physical features mentioned)

summary: your babysitter job took some turns that you couldn't have foreseen...

warnings: smut: fingering, oral (f receiving), protected p-i-v sex. Mikey being Mikey...

word count: 4,3k

A/N: Okay, I wrote this today without a pause most of the afternoon and evening and I decided to post it before I get anxious once again over it. So there will be probably errors.

Mike and any other characters mentioned are not mine and we are far away from canon (Mikey is not dead apparently!) but this is fiction and this the way these characters live in my head...

You went through the bulletin board at your college and finally you found something that appeared to be a good deal. With your plans to go on a road trip with your friends, you were looking for a job to earn some extra money. 

Family with four kids is looking for babysitter

Seeking a part-time babysitter for four active children, ages 2, 4, 5 and 6. Help will be needed occasionally on Friday or Saturday nights. Applicant will be required to warm pre-prepared dinner for the children and put them to bed by 7:30. Position is in a smoke-free home with a large dog. 

You called the number given on the notice and a friendly voice answered you. The woman invited you over to get to know you and see if you connect with the kids. Half an hour later you found yourself in a nice rural neighborhood looking at an old but well-kept house with a large garden.

After ringing the doorbell, you could hear a dog barking and the voices of some kids. A minute later, a woman opened the door, a cute little girl on her hip and her hand on the collar of a huge German Shepherd. She blew a streak of hair from her face and smiled at you. “Hi, you must be Y/N.  Please, come in.” She took a step back to let you enter. Three little boys came running into the hallway and looked up to you. “Mum, she is beautiful!” You and the woman both laughed at the cute remark.

“These are Caleb, Travis and Noah.” She put her hand on their little heads one after another. “And this here is little Daisy.” She nodded at the toddler in her arm. The girl smiled at you and waved with her cute little fingers.

The woman led you into the living room, where you talked and played with the kids.

Hearing the noise of a key and the door opening, the boys left you alone with the Lego bricks in your hand. They ran to the door, shouting, “Daddy!” A moment later a huge guy entered the room, two of the boys each in one arm, the third one hanging on his back.

You held your breath for a second, taking in how attractive the man was. He grinned sheepishly at you when his wife introduced you: “This is my husband Benjamin, but everyone just calls him Sy.” You nodded at him and then gave his wife a small smile, she was one lucky lady for sure.

After another 30 minutes talking with you, they agreed to give you the job and asked you to come over for the first time on Friday night. 

It was five o’clock on Friday evening when you were back at the Syverson’s door. Sy opened it for you and led you to the living room where all the kids were running around with their dog Aika. When they saw you, they wrapped their little arms around you and shouted your name. It seemed they already liked you. You dropped to the floor laughing and continued to play with the kids.

Ten minutes later, Sy and his wife came back and your mouth fell open when you saw them both dressed up for their first date in two years. They looked stunning. Sy wore a navy blue button down shirt with his sleeves rolled up and some tight black jeans. His wife chose a jean skirt, a white blouse and tall boots. Smiling, you noticed how both of them couldn’t keep their hands from each other. With a wink, you sent them off, wishing them a fun night.

Though it wasn’t a lie in the job offer that the kids were active, you had a lot of fun with them. You were playing hide and seek and after dinner you put them into their pajamas, built a blanket fort and read your favorite fairy tale to them. When it was bedtime, Daisy was already asleep in your arms and the boys were too tired to argue with you.

After you had them in their beds, you went into the kitchen to do the dishes. Exactly as you were finished and you put the dish towel away, a loud knock on the kitchen window startled you. You turned and saw a figure moving away from the window.

Your heart was racing in your chest and you had to take a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself down. Okay, this was probably just a friend or a neighbor of the Syversons, you scolded yourself. You opened the kitchen door that led to the garden and took a step onto the patio. 

The moment that you found the light switch, a gush of cold water hit you directly in your face. You heard a loud laughter that died at the moment that the porch light went on and your attacker realized he hit someone that he didn’t expect. 

“Shit, sweetcheeks, who are you? … Fuck, I didn’t want to make you wet … Aaargh, where’s uncle Sy?” You blinked through your wet lashes and looked into the cutest face you had ever seen. Two deep blue eyes stared at you under a bunch of chocolate curls, cheeks flushed red from embarrassment. In his hand, he still held the bucket. You couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous this whole situation was. 

“Hi, I’m Y/N! I’m watching Sy’s kids tonight.” You held out your hand. The guy looked at you shocked for another minute before he started to smirk, realizing that you weren’t angry. And to your surprise, he dropped the bucket and wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace. Although you were dripping wet.

When he let go of you, you looked down on yourself and the guy before you. You both were wearing white t-shirts. But while he had just two wet spots where your breasts were pressed flush to his chest, your shirt was totally drenched and therefore completely transparent.

The guy’s eyes followed yours and rested a good moment on your lacy bra that was shining through the wet fabric. When he noticed he was staring, he hastily took off his black leather jacket. “Oh, shit, here, sorry,” he stammered and handed it to you.

You thanked him and put on the jacket. It was cozy and warm and when you inhaled you took in the musky scent that it radiated. 

“I’m Mike, by the way! And I wanted to hit Sy, of course.” You chuckled. “Of course!” you repeated mockingly. Mike shrugged, the corners of his mouth curled to a cute grin. You both sat down on the wooden floorboards of the deck. Fortunately, it was a mild summer night, so the condition of your clothes didn’t bother you much. 

“Sy’s my uncle. And, well, all the guys in our family have this thing going on where we are trying to prank each other,” Mike explained to you. You wondered if all the guys in their family were as attractive as the two members you already met. If they were, you’d pay money to see them throwing buckets full of water at each other.

Your giggles encouraged Mike to go on: “Sy was the last one to land a strike. He put Kool-Aid powder into our shower head. I guess he wanted to go after Walter, my dad. But I was up early, and so it was me who got showered in red cherry water.” Damn, Mike really did his best to give you some filthy thoughts. You wouldn’t have minded taking a lick on his cherry coating.

“I bet you have never been any more tasty,” you teased him and he bumped his shoulder into yours in response. 

“I guess family meetings with you guys are fun. What else did you all do to each other?” Mike leaned back on his arms and closed his eyes for a moment, thinking. You watched him and realized that you were totally smitten with him already. 

“Once dad got hold of my cousin Charles’ phone. Charlie is kind of a womanizer, but after Walter switched all the names of the women in his contacts, he had a few weeks when he wasn’t very lucky at getting on dates.” You laughed while taking a mental note to be careful if you ever got to meet Charles.

“Another really good one was when uncle Leon stole the police badge of my dad and replaced it with a fake one, stating ‘most grumpy detective in town’. Which is very funny because it’s true. He only noticed it after four days and damn was he pissed.” Mike chuckled at the memory of his fuming father. 

“But the best one ever was when Charles organized some retro gay porn magazines and exchanged every face in there with a photograph of uncle August.” You both laughed. “It’s so funny, You have to know, August sports some ridiculous mustache which made it quite fitting. I sneaked one of the magazines, I need to show you sometime.”

You couldn’t hold back a grin as you answered him: “I can’t wait to look at some gay porn magazines with you.” But in fact the thought of spending more time with Mike was really pleasant.

Mike and you were talking with each other for another few minutes when you heard a voice over the babyphone in the kitchen “Mom?” You stood up. “Sorry, I need to look after the kids.” While you went up the stairs you mentally kicked yourself in your ass. What if Mike thought this was a signal to leave. You should have told him to wait. Because you really wanted to spend more time with him. 

Little Noah asked for something to drink but sank almost immediately back to sleep after you handed him a bottle of water. When you went back into the kitchen you saw that Mike was sitting at the breakfast bar. You smiled at him. 

“You are still here!” you remarked the obvious. Mike turned to look at you. “Do you want me to go?” You stepped between his legs and shook your head. Mike put his hands on your hips. “Good! But I wouldn’t have left without my jacket anyway.” A flush rose up your neck. “Oh” was the only thing that left your mouth in response. Mike pulled you nearer to him and brushed with his knuckles over your cheek.

The rustle of keys at the front door made you take a step back and Mike dropped his hand. You felt like a teenager that was caught by their parents. Sy entered the kitchen, raising his eyebrows in surprise when he saw Mike. “What the hell are you doin’ here, kid?” he asked.

Mike gave him a short explanation of the events of the night that made Sy frown while at the same time a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. He told you that you could leave now that they were home again and both you and Mike made your ways to the door. 

You were already out of the front yard when Sy opened the door once more and called Mike to come back. Mike turned and ran up the stairs when Sy opened the door further and threw a bucket full of water at his nephew. All of you started to laugh. Mike looked down on himself, shaking his head. “Should have seen that one coming.”

Throwing your backpack over your shoulder you turned to Mikey who was standing behind you. “So,... I need to go that way” You pointed along the road. “You’re walking?” Mike asked with a raised eyebrow. You nodded. “No, no, sweetcheeks. I won’t let you walk alone in the dark. I’ll drive you home, okay?”

Mike didn’t wait for you to answer but took your hand and pulled you along the sidewalk. He unlocked his car and led you to the passenger door. You were surprised when he opened the door for you, you wouldn’t have taken him for a gentleman. 

You let yourself fall into the seat and fumbled with the safety belt that somehow refused to be pulled down. Mike sat into the driver’s seat and shook his head. “Yeah, that stupid belt is not working properly. Wait, let me try.”

And with that he leaned over you, his chest pressed against yours, his face brushing over your neck. Goosebumps traveled up your arms at the  touch of his still wet clothes and curls. He pulled on the strap and finally managed to make it move. “Got it!” he shouted but when he tugged on it he hit you on your thigh. You let out a loud “Ouch!” 

“Fuck, sorry!” Mike rubbed his palm over the spot where he accidentally hit you. “God, sweetcheeks, I’m so sorry, I’m an idiot.” You put your hand on his, stopping his hectical rubs.

“Mike, it’s okay.” You cupped his neck with your other hand and pulled his face to yours. 

Finally your lips crushed against his. Your kiss was gentle, almost careful at the beginning but as you both realized how much you both wanted this to happen it got heated and passionate quickly. You pushed Mike back into his seat and threw your leg over him to straddle him. Mike’s hands found their way under the hem of your still damp shirt.

The feeling of his warm hands on your cold skin made you lose all control and you nibbled and sucked on his bottom lip, breathing soft moans into his mouth. Your fingers combed through his dark curls. Mike’s tongue brushed against your lips and you opened them for him. He tasted like mint and honey.

Eagerly he pressed himself against you, pushing your back against the steering wheel. And, as if the whole evening wasn’t awkward enough, you got onto the horn and a loud honk ran through the quiet neighborhood.

Startled, you both pulled back, panting. In the next moment a light was switched on at Sy’s house and he opened the window. “God, Mikey, fuck off before you wake up the kids! I want to spend some quality time with my wife. Could you guys make out at your own home like normal people?”

Mike chuckled. “Better use some protection, uncle! There are already too many little Syversons running around!” Sy flipped him off with a grin before he shut the window again.

You had taken your place on the passenger seat again, feeling the heat rise in your ears. Mike started the engine and asked you for your address. 

“Uh, actually, I don’t really want to go home already,” you admitted. Surprised, Mike turned his head at you. “Do you want to come home with me?” he asked.

You nibbled on your lip. You weren’t usually someone who went home with a guy on the first date. And, actually Mike and you weren’t even on a date. But, damn, that guy really made you lose all sense of reason. “If you want me to…” you answered him. Mike looked one more time over to you, a wide smile plastered over his face. 

He was talking without pause throughout the whole ride, which you thought was fucking adorable. Finally he pulled into the driveway of a small wooden house. “Here we are. Looks like dad is still working so we have the house for ourselves.”

Mike got out of the car quickly and opened the door for you. He took your hands and pulled you into his arms. “I’m happy that I couldn't prank Sy tonight.” he said and pressed a kiss on your nose. Then his hands grabbed your thighs and in the next moment you felt him carry you over to the door. You squeaked in surprise.

“Let me down, Mike!” you said, laughing. “Not happening, princess.” He managed to open the door with you holding onto his neck. You wriggled in his arms but his grip on your legs just got tighter. “Would you stop that, babycakes? This is really distracting!” You gave him a cheeky grin.

Finally you made it to his room and Mike put you carefully down on his bed. “I need to get rid of these wet clothes. Do you want to change into something else, too?” he asked, already tugging on the hem of his shirt. You got up and helped him pull his shirt over his head. You ran your hand over his chest.

“I don’t think I need clothes right now. And you don’t, either.” You had no idea where these words came from. Mikey gulped and fiddled at your shirt nervously. Slowly you helped each other out of your clothes. When you both were standing in front of each other in your underwear, Mikey started to kiss you and slowly walked you back to the bed. You both let yourself fall onto the mattress and lay on your sides. You hooked your leg around his thigh.

After what felt like an eternity of kissing each other and hands, lips and tongues roaming over each other's body, Mike’s hands found their way to the back of your bra. He brushed his fingers up and down over the soft lace, searching for the clasp to open it.

You chuckled and pressed his shoulder onto the mattress. When he lay on his back you straddled him and pointed to the small hook between your breasts. “Here, Mikey!” He raised an eyebrow. “Why do girls' clothes always need to be so complicated?” You both snickered.

Mike tried his luck on the front closure of your bra and was successful after all. You brushed the straps from your shoulder and Mike took in the sight of your bare breasts with wide eyes. He licked over his lips and then he arched his back and dived right into your soft flesh. He rubbed and kissed and licked every inch of skin until he finally stopped teasing you and swirled his tongue over your hard nipples.

You moaned at the sensation when he let go again and the air cooled the sensitive skin of your buds. His hands kneaded both your breasts and Mike sank his head once more between them, spilling kisses all over. He lifted his head to look at you and grinned “Is it too soon to say that I love your boobies?” You just shook your head at the cute dork and he resumed his ministrations on your nipples.

You felt the tension that built in your core and rolled your hip to get some release. The thin fabrics of your underwear couldn’t hide neither the hard bulge that pressed against you, nor the wetness that gathered between your legs.

Mike’s hands roamed over your sides, down your hips and under the elastic of your panties. When he couldn’t find a comfortable position to dive his fingers deeper between your legs, he groaned frustratedly.

His hands came back onto your waist and he lifted you off of his lap and pressed your back onto the mattress. Kneeling beside you, his lips got back to their favorite spot on your breasts while his hand finally slipped into your panties and his fingers carefully parted your folds. 

“Hell, you are dripping, sweetcheeks! this is awesome.” Faster as you could process Mikey rolled the last piece of your clothes down your legs. He pressed your legs apart and settled between them. Carefully he lifted your leg and pressed kisses on your ankle. Slowly he travelled up your leg with little nips and kisses. Unbearingly long he spent his time on the sensible skin of the back of your knee. 

You took in a sharp breath when he moved further up, his mouth sucking on your inner thigh while his soft curls brushed over your folds. He pulled back and his gaze fell between your legs. You tried to put your knees together, but he stopped you. “Don’t hide! You are gorgeous like that. I guess you taste delicious.”

And then his mouth pressed against your core. His wide tongue lapped through your folds ánd circled your clit. You couldn't help but jerk your hips up. Mike pressed a hand on your abdomen to keep you from moving. You felt the warmth of his mouth all over your pussy, licking around your entrance, sucking on your clit. 

When you thought the sensations you felt couldn’t be any stronger he pushed a finger into you. “Fuck! Mike!” you gasped and you could feel his lips forming into a grin on your folds. He added a second finger and slowly pumped in and out of you. He curled them up and when he heard your breath getting faster and felt your muscles cramp around his digits he knew he had found what he was searching for.

He increased his pace and rolled your clit between his lips, knowing perfectly well that he pulled you over the edge with it. Slowly you came down from your high and Mike lazily lapped a few more times through your folds before he crawled back up to you.

“Good?” he asked you with a sheepish grin. “You’re fishing for compliments! You know exactly that it was fantastic.” His grin just got wider after your response. You pulled him down to another deep kiss. Mike rolled onto you and you felt his hard cock press against your middle. You both groaned at the sensation. But to your surprise Mike said: “We can stop anytime, you know? No pressure.”  

Could this guy be any cuter? You shook your head. “I’m not finished with you yet, Mike.” You lifted your hips up to press it against him. “I want to feel you inside of me.” He let out a growl and closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. Then he pressed a kiss onto your forehead and got up. He went over to his dresser and rummaged through the drawers. 

You wondered for a moment what the hell he was doing, when he held up the small foil package and shouted “Got it!” You laughed. Mikey casually dropped his boxers down on his way back to the bed. As soon as his cock sprang free, your laughter died down. He was big. 

Mike kneeled between your legs and bowed down to kiss your belly button. Then he sat back on his heels and slowly stroked himself. 

“Are you sure?” he asked you once again. You nodded and smiled at him. Mike opened the package and rolled the condom over his hard shaft. Slowly he ran the thick head of his dick through your folds, gathering your slick.

Then you felt him at your entrance, carefully pushing into you, inch by inch. You gasped as you felt him stretching you open. When he finally was fully settled you both held your breath for a moment. He pressed a chast kiss on your lips and then he began to move. 

He started with slow movements, pulling out just a little before he slowly sank into you again. You ran your nails down his back, looking at him pleadingly. But Mike didn’t change his slow pace. You knew exactly that he waited for you to beg.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and pressed your heels into his back, forcing him to go deeper. When he still didn’t move faster you decided that you have to give in. “Please, Mikey, harder!” He chuckled and finally he pulled out of you almost completely before he thrust back into you fast and hard. You screamed and put your fist on your mouth.

Mikey’s hand shot up and pulled it back. “No one here who can hear you, no need to hold back.” And then he entwined his fingers with yours and started to fuck you senseless. You felt your second high building up soon.

You were panting and squirming under Mike’s tall frame. Mike’s handsome face tensed and he pressed his eyes shut. He was close, too.  He lost his rhythm but rutted into you fervently.

A few more thrusts and you came undone. Your walls were pulsing around him and brought him to his own climax. He pulled out of you and you whimpered at the empty feeling between your legs. Mike pressed a kiss on your thigh and then got up to get rid of the condom.

When he got back he held out a towel for you. “Thank you. But I need to go to the bathroom,” you told him. “Oh, sure! Mike opened the door to his room and pointed to his left. “Second door on the right.” You made your way to the bathroom, hoping you wouldn’t run into Mike’s dad. 

Gladly you were back in Mike’s room without any awkward encounters soon. You grabbed your clothes when Mike took your hand. “You could stay if you want to,” he said softly. You smiled at him and pressed a kiss on his cheek. “That would be nice.”

Mike looked through his drawers once more and held out a shirt and some boxers to you.

You both crawled onto the bed and Mike put his arm around you, pulling you into his chest.

“Goodnight, sweetcheeks! So happy that I made you wet.” You slapped your hand on his chest but giggled nevertheless over his bad pun. Then you kissed lazily until you both drifted off to sleep. 

When you woke up, Mike was still snoring silently next to you. Carefully you wriggled yourself free under his arm. You really needed to pee. On tiptoes you walked through the hallway and opened the bathroom door.

You froze when you looked up at the tall man standing at the sink. His bare back showed some well defined muscles and he stared at you through the mirror with a raised eyebrow. His lips were pressed to a thin line, almost invisible with his wild beard. So this must be grumpy Walter, you guessed.

[deandoesthingstome]

Um yes this was absolutely it. Here are the tags to prove it:

#jesus fucking christ on a cracker #walter marshall smut # hellraiser mike smut

This is a little bit of a retelling of the collaboration I did with @brandycranby earlier, available here, in which sad!Walter calls a phone sex hotline. Sad and Lonely Boys. Unbelievably, no smut in this one. A little angst, a little mild peril, but mostly a sort of meet-cute.

Tagging @iwillmakeyoucraveme @its–fandom–darling @emyearns @indigosaurus @raspberrydreamclouds @summersong69 @wonderlandfandomkingdom @imneonpanda @october505 @seriouslygoodlookinggents @feralrunaway @hell1129-blog @takemeback-toparadise @ashleyskywalker @cavillryarchive @critfailroll @luclittlepond @devterra @eldarwen333 @davidbuddbg @sparklesmolwarriorprincess @brandycranby @littlewrenofrivia @infinite-shite @gissica

This isn’t a romance, not really. And it isn’t an adventure story, or a mystery. This is a story about lonely people. This is a story about you, and about Walter, and his voice in your ear.

Keep reading

[lainiespicewrites]

I just want to feel safe - Walter Marshall fanfic. Part 1?

Okay. Preface. This story has mentions of sexual assault. This is a personal story. But I've changed a lot of the names and some of the actual story to fit the fic. I think that I've decided this is going to be a series. It's taken a lot out of me writing this but. I really love Walter and I can see this relationship growing into something more than what is here. I also think that from a healing standpoint, I'm gonna write the story I never gave myself the chance to have. Anyway. That's enough from me. I'll let you guys read the story now. I know this is a heavy topic and situation but I'm still always open to comments and feedback. Thank you guys for the support in posting this <3

Plot: OFC reports assault after 2 years and Detective Walter Marshall is assigned to her case. He will stop at nothing to help her feel safe again.

Warnings: Panic attacks, mentions of sexual assault (retelling the story of what happened.)

Unbeta'd Mistakes are totally my own and I own that. This might be a mess because honestly I was super emotional writing this but it felt good to get it all down.

Please don't share without crediting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m not sure what I expected a police station to be like. Frankly I’d never really imagined myself in one. Kind of funny how things can change like that. All of a sudden you’re doing things you’d never imagine. That’s how I ended up here. In this strangely familiar looking police station. I guess maybe that’s the one thing movies and Tv got right. Police stations for the most part look exactly the same. This whole night started from a list of  “Fuck it why not’s” that spiraled out of control. But that explanation alone was not enough to help the officer help me. I looked back at the petite woman in front of me. I’m sure she was a good police officer. I wasn't trying to doubt her skill. But her overly sympathetic nature and deer in the headlights look on her face was making me feel worse. 

“I know this is hard.” She spoke softly, placing her hand over mine on the table. She didn’t know. She had no idea what this was like. Being attacked like this. Letting yourself become vulnerable because ‘why not’ I’d known those boys my entire life. When my brother invited me out for drinks with his friends, I didn’t have a reason not to trust them. Not to trust… him. My brother didn’t know. He couldn’t have known. He was betrayed too. “But I need you to tell me what you remember, what happened to you, so we can help you.” I looked around again At the empty gray walls. Out the window into the dark cloudy night sky. It must be almost midnight now. Anywhere but at the woman in front of me. What did she say her name was? Rachel? I focused on the empty desk chair behind her when I finally spoke. 

“It doesn’t matter. I remember all of it. Every detail. But we have no case.” I muttered I looked down playing with my hands again. 

“Alayna,” She said my name softly. I met her eyes again for the first time since we sat at her desk. “You don’t know that. You did the right thing coming here and reporting it. I need you to talk to me.” She pleaded with me. She didn’t understand. 

“No,” I said again. “I do know.” 

“How do you know we can’t help you?” She asked her eyes boring into mine. I know she wants to help. I know that but I just don’t see how they  can. not after it’s been so long. 

“There’s no evidence.” I said. 

“Sweetheart, with all due respect you aren’t a police officer we may be able to find something you wouldn’t think to look…”

“It was two years ago.” Rachel paused then. She took a deep breath and sat back in her chair. 

“2 years ago?” she repeated. I nodded. She let out a soft sigh. “Sweetie, Why did you wait so long to tell somebody?” She asked. This felt more manageable. This I at least knew the answer for. It was logical. It made sense. Well it doesn’t really make much sense but when you’re bargaining with yourself it does. 

“I didn’t think it would matter. I’m still not sure it does.” I said. I swallowed hard. Now or never Alayna. You didn’t walk 3 miles to the police station, in the cold, after a panic attack to not give yourself some kind of peace. I let out a long breath and started again but then the door of the squadroom opened. A tall figure walked in. I couldn’t make out much of him at first. Just that he was very tall, 6,1 or something and had a full beard. He was wearing a heavy winter coat and beanie. I tensed a little when  I watched him walk from the entrance to the desk next to Rachel’s. He shrugged off his coat revealing a thick gray sweater. He draped his coat over his chair and pulled off his beanie. His hair was a mess of dark curls. As soft and cozy as he should have looked…Something still felt intimidating about him. Maybe it was because he hadn’t spoken a word since he’d walked in the room. None of us had actually. 

“Alayna,” Rachel said my name, getting my attention and finally breaking the silence. “This is detective Walter Marshall. He’s going to be working on your case.” That’s right. When I came in to report, the officer on duty at the station had to attend to a call. When I told them I wanted to report an assault, they told me that they’re psychiatrist was still in the office.  I  could talk to her until one of the detectives was available. I think they were afraid if they told me to come back later… I wouldn’t. They were probably right. Although I’m not quite sure if it would be because I’d lost my nerve or dying of hypothermia on the walk home.  Rachel wasn’t even a detective. Was I really that out of it? Why didn’t I remember that until now?

“Okay,” was all I managed to say. 

“I can stay,” she said. I'm not sure if it was for me or the detective. Maybe both. “If you’re more comfortable. If it’s easier for you. Ya know?” she asked. I shook my head and I watched as the detective…Walter, put his hand on her shoulder. 

“Go home, it's been a long day,” he told her. His voice was deep but he spoke softly. And surprisingly he had an English accent. “We’ll manage,”  his eyes were tired and heavy when they met mine. He offered a gentle smile. I nodded. 

“You’re sure?” She asked. 

“I don’t want to keep you Rachel. I can talk to the detective.” I said. She nodded. 

“Okay, wait right here, just a moment while I catch him up okay? And then you two will get started.”  I gave her a slight nod and just stared out the window again. Rachel and the detective went off into a side office somewhere to discuss what I’d already mentioned. This was sure to be quick now. As soon as she tells him how long it’s been, he’ll dismiss me. This was so stupid. I’d kept this to myself for this long. I knew this was a bad idea. Just as I had convinced myself to get up and leave the office door opened again. 

“Thank you,” Walter’s voice said from across the room. “Get home safe.” he told Rachel as she waved goodbye. I gave her a small wave. I sat back in the chair trying to relax. But I knew I couldn’t. He came back over to the desk leaning his hip against it, crossing one foot over the other. “Are you comfortable out here or would you like to talk in my office?” He asked. “There aren’t too many people still around this late but, it would offer a bit more privacy than the open squadroom. It’s up to you.” He stated. I thought about it for a moment. Finally, I  pulled my eyes from the window to look up at him. 

“I think I’d feel better with a little more privacy,” I said. He gave me a sympathetic smile. 

I stood up from my spot next to the desk.  Then he led me out of the squadroom and down the hall to a small office. There wasn’t much, just a large desk with nothing but a computer and a travel coffee mug on it. The walls were bare other than a standard wall clock. He motioned for me to take a 

seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk as he shut the door behind us. He circled around to the other side of the desk, setting a file down and taking a seat across from me. 

“You’re reporting  an assault, is that right?” He asked. I nodded. 

“Yes, not a recent one. I’m sure Rachel informed you.” I said. I felt so ashamed of myself. I was wasting his time. Detective Marshall’s eyes met mine. I didn’t find the same overly sympathetic look in his eyes like I did with Rachel. He wasn’t pitying me. He wasn’t trying to psychoanalyze  me. At the same time, it wasn’t cruel or harsh. Not even annoyed. Just open. 

“She did,” he spoke after a brief pause. “But I’d like to hear the information from you myself. If that's alright with you?” He questioned. I swallowed hard. I leaned forward and folded my hands on the desk. 

“I can do that.” My voice shook when I spoke. “Will I need to write a witness statement too?” I asked him. Telling this story once was going to be hard enough. Seeing it written on paper was going to be gut wrenching. 

“Let’s just get through this conversation first. We’ll talk about the rest later, "he said. I nodded. He sat with his forearms leaning on the desk and his hands folded together. He pursed his lips into a tight small smile and nodded toward me. “Whenever you’re ready.” He stated. I swallowed hard. Of course it didn’t necessarily mean that. It was after midnight now. This guy probably wanted to get home. I had to get this out. 

“November 12th, or well 13th I guess. It was around 1:30 or 2am so the 13th. My brother, his friends and I had gone out for his birthday. It wasn’t his birthday though, we had to wait until the weekend to celebrate because it fell during the week.” I was rambling. He needed details. I need to stop rambling. “Uh anyway, We were at a bar, earlier that night on the 12th, but I got kind of tired. The boys were picking on me for being a lightweight and leaving early. I left the bar at 11, got home at like 11:15. I went right to bed. I was really tired. The boys were all gonna come back to the house when they were done at the bar. I woke up to the bedroom door bursting open at like 1 am and someone yelling my name. I screamed. It was my brother's friend. Um.” I paused for a second, starting to feel uncomfortable. Did I have to describe it exactly? What did I have to say? But Walter spoke, easing the tension a bit. 

“And what’s his name?” He asked me. 

“His name is Justin, uh Justin Veach.” I responded. Walter nodded for me to continue as he wrote a note in his folder. He put the pen down and looked up at me again letting me know he was listening. 

“Uh He said, ‘It’s okay! Don’t freak out, it's just me! We’re back, come hang out with us!’ Then he came over to my bed and kissed my face which was weird but he was an affectionate guy and well they were still drunk. I didn’t think much of it. He’d known me since I was a baby. He and my brother had been best friends since kindergarten. They were ten years older than me and he watched me grow up.” I shuttered a little thinking about it. “Um so after that he left. After telling me to come down stairs to talk with them again. And I did. We sat in the kitchen. I just sat there sleepy and confused. The boys were talking and eating drunk snacks or whatever,” I kind of chuckled a little. “It was nice. But we were talking about how it’s so funny that I’m old enough to go drink with them now. And Justin kept making these comments about remembering when I was born and that I was such a beautiful baby. It seemed so weird. But looking back. He knew. He knew what he was planning on doing…. We all said we were gonna go to bed. Blake, my brother, told Justin he could sleep on the couch or they could share his bed or whatever. But Justin was coming up the stairs with us and he said ‘I wanna cuddle’ to me, and he was still drunk and I thought he was joking so I laughed it off and said ‘yeah sure’ I let him lay in my bed. But I put myself on the inside. I thought he was just gonna lay there a minute and like it would be a joke. Blake did too. He asked if I was okay before he went to his room. Because he was still kinda drunk and ready to crash. I said. I was. But Justin didn’t just lay  there. He took off his pants before he got into the bed so he was just in boxers and his shirt. And,”

 I was shaking. I couldn’t do this anymore. I was gonna cry. I didn’t know this man. He was surely annoyed by me and. God he probably thought I was lying. That’s what Justin would tell him. When he confronts him. That I’m lying. Or maybe that's what I wanted. This was so stupid  I shouldn’t have come here. I swallowed hard again. I looked back up at walter. I could feel the tears in my eyes. 

“Take your time.” He said softly. “Is this when he hurt you?” He asked.

“I can’t,” my voice was trembling now. “I’m sorry I’ve wasted your time, I can’t do this.” I sobbed. I stood up to leave his office. Walter stood and walked to the other side of the desk gently reaching out and putting his hand on my shoulder. “There’s nothing you can do, I know that. I wasted your time detective. I’m so sorry.”

“Hold on,” Walter’s voice was low. “Sit back down, and breathe for a moment. If anything else I can’t let you walk out of here and drive home in this state.” I looked at his face. He was concerned. Worried about me. About my safety. I sat back down in the chair. I took a deep breath trying to compose myself again. But I couldn’t seem to catch my breath. “It’s okay, You’re safe in here. I’m going to do everything I can to help you Alayna.” Detective Marshall said, crouching down in front of me to meet my eyes again. I nodded. “Do you think you can keep going?” he asked. I nodded again. He stood and leaned on the edge of his desk. His proximity seemed to help keep my calm. I don’t know what was so different between him and talking with Rachel. But when he said he could help, I believed him. Maybe it was the sheer size of this man. Or the gun on his hip. Or maybe there was something in his aura or some other bullshit I didn’t understand that was protective and made me trust him. Fuck maybe I’d gone to far to turn back now and I was too emotionally exhausted not to lean on anyone who would listen. Whatever it was, I continued. 

“At first I was just laying next to him. Like I was saying, I thought it was a joke. But he wrapped his arm around me to make me cuddle him.. I guess. He started rubbing my back. I froze up. I started to recognize that his hand was lingering where it shouldn’t but I couldn’t say anything. And this guy he’s .. he’s huge. I mean like 6 foot and like 400 lbs when he rolled over on to me and started touching me I felt paralyzed I couldn’t move but… I couldn’t have pushed him off if I’d tried. I just felt hopeless. That’s when everything happened.” I sniffled softly. I hiccuuped catching my breath. “It was like I was outside of myself watching it all happen…I .. I don’t know if that makes sense? But I couldn’t do anything. All I could do was lay there. I don’t remember if I said no. But,

“You didn’t consent. That’s no. This was not your fault. You’ve already tried to blame yourself. It’s a really common thing, unfortunately, that you can’t react. But that doesn’t mean that you let it happen. Or that you wanted it to happen.”  Walter said softly. I nodded at the ground. 

“Afterward he, he fell asleep and I showered, I had to get rid of the feeling of him. I slept on the couch, Well I tried to. The next morning he was came down and sat with  all of us like nothing had happened. I had mentioned that my back had hurt the night before. And he moved closer to me and rubbed it for me. I couldn’t move. I didn’t react…again. I just. I don’t know. All I could think was, I didn’t wanna start anything. But I also couldn’t make sense of what happened. When he left I changed the sheets. I threw them away actually. My clothes were washed. But eventually I couldn’t look at them anymore. I threw them away too.”

“Why do you think it took you so long to say anything?” Walter asked me. 

“I wasn’t even sure it happened. I wasn’t sure I could call it what it was. I mean he was drunk, I just… Just laid there. It took me over a week to tell my best friend. But It took almost 4 months after talking it out with her and one of my other friends for me to face it and call it what it was. But I still can’t say it.”

“And why are you here now? What made you report it?” He raised an eyebrow. I took a deep breath. This has been eating at me so long but. This month. This 2 year “anniversary.” If you could call it that. Has been terrorizing me. 

“It’s all I could think about the last couple of weeks. I started having nightmares. Seeing him in my dreams. Before when I dreamt about it, I always got away. Someone always stopped him. But now. Now I’m trapped all overagain. It happened in my childhood home. In the room I grew up in. I’ve moved out since then. I live alone. He doesn’t even live in that town anymore. He lives 3 hours away from me. The chances that I’ll run into him are slim. And I don’t have any 

reminders of it anymore. But Sometimes if I wake up and I’m laying next to the wall it sends me into a panic. If I see someone with a similar body type or with a similar voice it shut down. He’s over a 100 miles away. But I don’t feel safe. I’m losing my mind! I’m getting up to check the lock on the door like 10 times before I can go to sleep. What if he just walks in like he did then. He doesn’t even know where I live. But I’ve never confronted him. And he has a wife! And Kids. He did when he did this to me. I can’t get over that. She needs to know but … I don’t, I don’t know what to do! That’s why I’m here, I had another panic attack, I didn’t trust myself to drive. So I walked. ” I was in tears again. He must think I’m so weak. So stupid. What an idiotic thing to do. 

“I understand, and first I want to say, I’m sorry that you went had to experience that. It’s a good you were able to tell your friends, but you were seemingly dealing with this alone for a long time. I’m sure that’s taken a toll on you. The next thing I need to ask you, is what you want to do now that you’ve told me.” I took in his words. He was right. This has been so heavy. And I’ve carried it alone for so long. But now that I’m here I never thought there would be options. 

“What can we even do? It’s been so long?” I asked. 

“Not too long though, if you want to press charges, and see him convited for this, that’s still on the table. If that’s what you want to do then yes, I do need you to write a witness statement. There will be a lot of other legal things that need to be done and signed. Then we can start an investigation. I know you think there isn’t anything here. But well do you trust me?” He asked. Did I? I didn’t know him. But Rachel seemed to. And he had his own office. That must mean he’s some high status detective right? And there was just something about him. Why did he feel so safe. It wasn’t the gun. It was. It was him. I did trust him. 

“I do,” I spoke finally. 

“I’ve put people away, on much less than what you’ve given me tonight.” He said. That felt good. To know he could lose everything. Like he made me lose my sense of security. But then my stomach dropped. 

“W-would I have to see him?” I asked meekly. 

“In court yes, possibly in a line up. But definitely in court. We would need your testimoney,”

“I- I don’t know if I can do that, I don’t know if I can face him.” I shook again. 

“There will be officers in the court. You won’t be near him. He won’t be able to get to you.” 

“Will you be there?” I asked suddenly. 

“If you’d like, yes, I can be there.” He said giving me a soft smile. 

“Can I think about it?” I asked meeting his eyes again. 

“Of course,” He stood and walked back to the other side of his desk. “It’s been a long night emotionally for you, if you’re ready tomorrow to make a decision you can come back in the morning.” He said typing a something quickly on his computer. “If you’ll wait just a few minutes I can gladly give you a ride home. It’s far too cold for you to walk, even it’s a block away.” He offered. I nodded. 

“Thank you, I appreciate that. It’s, well its actually 3 miles.” I stated biting my lip awkwardly. He let out a soft chuckle and smiled. 

“Well, I surely can’t let you walk that far this late. I’ll get you home safe.” He said. He finished typing whatever it was he was doing on his computer. Then he locked the file in his desk. He stood and gestured for me to lead out of the office. He turned the light off and locked it behind him. Oh God I’d kept him after his shift. 

“I’m sorry for keeping you,” 

“Oh, no don’t appologize, this is common practice for me. This is honestly the earliest I’ve left in weeks.” He said as we walked back to the squadroom. He grabbed his coat from the desk chair. “Do you have everything?” He asked. I nodded. 

He led us out of the station and to his truck in the parking lot. Once we were settled in, I gave him my address so he could drive me home. I watched out the window as he drove down the familiar streets. The drive was silent. The closer we got the more I got this sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Back home. Back home to be alone again. I was so scared. What if he knew where I lived. I didn’t feel safe. It wasn’t long before the detective was pulling up in front of my building. 

“Thank you,” I spoke breaking the silence for the first time since we’d left the police station. 

“Of course,” He reached into his pocket pulling out a business card. “Take the night and decide what you’d like to do.” He said and then handed me the card. “That’s my cellphone number. If there’s anything else you need call…”

“Would you come in?” I cringed the second the words left my mouth. 

“I, I can search the place, If you’d like. If it would make you more comfortable.” He offered. 

“I mean, could you…” I can’t believe I was asking this, “Stay?” the word came out barely above a whisper. I sighed. I turned toward the window squeezing my eyes shut. “I’m sorry that was stupid, You probably have a wife, and a family to get home to. That was so inconsiderate. I just. I was afraid and I… I’ll just go.” I opened the door. 

“You don’t feel safe, do you?” He asked. I paused and shook my head. I didn’t. I hadn’t for weeks. But I couldn’t ask this guy to give up his time for me. 

“I don’t but, It’s okay. It’s just that there’s only one deadbolt lock on the door. And I don’t know sometimes that doesn’t feel like enough. And I can’t seem to get any sleep. But that’s not up to you. I have to figure this out. You’ve done so much to help me already detective.” I rambled. Walter let out a long breath. 

“You’ve got a lot on your mind right now and a lot to consider.” He said. “I’m sure the lack of sleep isn’t helping at all, You could use a good nights rest.”  He stated. 

“But it’s not you’re responsibility and I don’t want to take you away from your family.” I said. 

“I, well I live alone actually.” He bit his lip awkwardly “Why don’t you stay with me for the night? I’ve got some work to catch up on anyway. I probably won’t be getting much sleep. You wouldnt’t be putting me out.”

“Are you sure?” I asked raising an eyebrow. I’d given this poor guy enough trouble. And he was being so kind. Walter nodded. Honestly. The way I was feeling I didn’t have the energy to consider it any longer. I shut the door and walter put the truck in drive. 

It was almost 2 am when we walked into his house. 

“I can just sleep on the couch I, I really don’t want to be any trouble.” 

“You aren’t,” He assured me. “And please, you can sleep in the bedroom, I rarely sleep there anyway. It’d be nice to know someones getting use out of it.” He smiled. I nodded and he showed me to the room and left me to get comfortable. He said he’d be down stairs likely working in his office if I needed anything. I took in the room everything seemed to be a dark navy color the comforter, the curtains the sheets. I chuckled to myself. That made sense for him. 

I slipped off my shoes and slid under the covers. This should feel strange. And it did. But I was safe. And I hadn’t felt that way in a while. I let that feeling take over as I tried to fall asleep. But my mind started to wander again. What if he found out I reported it. What would happen. Or What would he do when they arrested him. What would he say about me. Would he say I wanted it. Tell them I didn’t push them away. Try to convince them that I was lying somehow? He was good at that. And he had a friend from college that was a lawyer. Surely he already had a story. Maybe he’d been prepared since it had happened. I started to shake again. I could feel my heart rate speeding up. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t hear the footsteps up the stairs. I didn’t see him come in. I didn’t even realize that I’d started  to cry again until I noticed he was next to me saying my name. 

“Alayna. Alayna. It’s okay. You’re okay. Take a deep breath.” He soothed.

“I can’t, I can’t… what if he tries to come after me. What if.. What if he tells them… what if tries to tell them I wanted him to…I don’t think I can do this.” I sobbed. Walter wrapped an arm around my shoulder. 

“He can’t get to you. We’ll be sure of that. All that matters, is that you’ve told us the truth. As long as you have, and as long as you confirm that in court. No matter what he says or what anyone believes, it won’t matter. I want to help you. I want you to feel safe again. I think the only way we can do that. Is to put this guy away. I’m not gonna stop until we do. I won’t let him hurt you again.”  He said.  Pulling me closer to him. 

“Do you have a sister?” I asked after a brief pause sniffling softly. 

“No,” He shook his head and leaning back against the headboard letting me rest my head against his shoulder. “But I have a daughter.” He said. 

“Is that why you do what you do?” I asked. He smiled. But he was quite for a moment. 

“Not at first. When I was younger and I first started out, it was just something that I liked. Something I was good at. But when my exwife and I had our daughter, a lot of that changed. It became personal. To an unhealthy point honestly.” He chuckled at himself. “I guess to my own detriment.”

“Is that why you’re still working even though you clocked out hours ago? You could use some good sleep too detective.” I stated. Starting to relax. 

“I haven’t slept well in ages,” He said. “Focusing on the job, oddly enough, keeps my mind off everything else. There are some horrible people in this world. I don’t have to explain that to you. I get so in my own head about how, it could be her. If I spend anymore time considering the what ifs I’d keep her locked in a tower,” He chuckled. 

“I understand that. But surely, If she was raised by you, she’s a smart girl. But.. well I guess,” I sighed. “Nevermind.” Walter squeezed my shoulder softly. 

“Thank you, I know what you mean.” He smiled sympathetically. 

“I’m going to do it.” I said suddenly. “Press charges, I mean. You’re right. Knowing can still get to me. Knowing he’s out there. That’s what’s causing me all this stress and …I can’t keep going on like this.” I stated. 

“I can take you back to the station tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” I whispered. “Walter?” I asked nervously biting my lip. 

“Yeah?” 

“Will you stay here? I don’t know what it is I just feel.. Safer when you’re here.” I blushed softly. Walter adjusted so that he was lying on the bed. I moved and laid my head on the pillow. 

“Get some sleep darling. I’ll be right here.”

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Okay that was part one❤️ let me know how you’re feeling about this guys!

Tag list: @summersong69 @carrie80reads @caramariehurst @redheadrouge @warriormirkwood @gummydummy19 @deandoesthingstome @shellyshellshell @mary-ann84 @starfirewildheart @foxyjwls007 @alwayzmsbehavn @toooldforobsessions@mishkatelwarriorgoddess @henryownsme @identity2212

Part 2:

[ellethespaceunicorn]

I can't stop envisioning Mikey fucking you to this song. Or August as well. Or both of them.

Just, like, I feel like I need to write this. But, like who do I choose? I've never written either, maybe I can do both????

HELP??

[captainsy-cookiemonster]

Welcome Home

Prompt: Okay! You gonna love this A sandwich.... between....*drum rolls* Mike and Touch Starved!Will … They both brothers, and Mike is a horn dog, while after 3 month parted Will needs a hard release after a stressful business agenda😘😘

Summary: while your one roommate is away, things get steamy with your other roommate. it just so happens that the roommate who was gone comes back while you’re fooling around with the other one. this is fun.

Pairing: bi!Mikey x unnamed OFC x bi!Will Shaw

Warnings: dom x switch x switch, f2l, threeway, p in v sex, oral sex, unprotected sex, cumming inside (on, uhh both ends), grinding, little bit of degradation, implication that Mikey came in his pants while OFC was grinding on him once, my first time writing a threeway, me picking up a wip after moooonths and a very draining semester, hints at a possible polyamorous relationship?, rules of physics? is this even possible? we don’t ask these kinds of questions here sir, the female character is not described beyond having “grip-able” hair however you want to define it, for the sake of not being called inclusive enough for a reader i chose to make her an unspecified OFC

Names used: bunny, good girl, sweetheart, slut, good boy (Mikey), sir (Will)

A/N: I hope you don’t mind that I changed your prompt a little bit. I didn’t really feel comfortable writing them as brothers, so I made them all roommates. Thank you so much @wolvesandhoundshowltogether @littlefreya and @luna-aestas for helping me when i got stuck or felt it sucked. You girls are amazing ❤️ not beta'd much. Typos we're going down swingin'!

Word count: ca 4k

Title: Welcome Home

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It started as roommates. As a guy in his junior year, with friends mostly in higher semesters, Will was suddenly left with an empty apartment and a rent that was far too high to handle all by himself. 

That’s when I came into play, a little freshman who happened to not have gotten a dorm room on campus. It was especially convenient since I got a job at the little café just across the street once I was accepted into college. The wage was just enough for rent and food and I was lucky my parents still supported me.

A few weeks into the semester, another boy joined our little arrangement. Mikey was trouble, which, in a way, was good because that meant he was rarely home. He was always out partying, slept during the day, and missed most of his courses. But at least that meant it was quiet when Will and I  had to study or do homework.

That was two years ago. The three of us have become close friends, almost like family. The boys grew protective of their little barista, who would bring them their favorite coffee whenever I came home. They were almost like big brothers. Well… Almost.

Will has finished his bachelor’s by now and is currently building his own startup, while part time working on his master's program.  So he’s still living in the apartment with the two of us.

Well actually… not right now. He had to go away for three months. Something to do with his business, I can’t really remember. 

Three months alone with Mikey have been... interesting, to say the least. And fun. Lots of fun. Take that however you want.

Right now, we're lounging on the couch, watching some silly movie. I couldn't tell the name even with a gun to my head. It’s late, and Mikey's soft, but progressively more daring caress is using up all the focus I can muster. His hand snuck into my shorts and is squeezing my buttcheek. I bite my lip to stifle a whimper and press my thighs together. He does it again, drawing the same reaction from me; except this time, I bury my face into his chest. I can practically feel his smirk and look up to glare at him. I don’t even meet his eyes before his lips catch mine in a sloppy kiss. 

In a scramble of arms and legs, he pulls me to straddle his lap, his hands kneading my ass while mine paw at his chest and neck, tug at his hair, and grip his shoulders. It’s messy. It’s clumsy. It’s desperate. I want more. I need it. I need to be closer, need to feel him everywhere. 

I start grinding my hips into his crotch, feeling him grow. His hands on my hips urge me on, but instead of speeding up, I slow down. Giggling and out of breath, I break the kiss.

“Nuh-uh, remember last time? Not gonna happen again.”

Mikey huffs and rolls his eyes. “That was one time!”

Laughing, I shake my head and lean down to kiss him again. His hands are everywhere, on my ass, my hips, then sliding up my back underneath my shirt. With skilled fingers, he unclasps my bra, pulling the straps off my arms. As it falls between us, I take it and blindly throw it into the room behind us. Faintly, I hear it hitting the floor before my attention focuses on Mikey’s hands sliding up my tummy and letting his thumbs brush over that spot on my ribs. 

I gasp and grind my hips down harder, making him chuckle. In response, I capture his bottom lip between my teeth, tugging and sucking on it a little before releasing it. Can’t have the boy think he’s got the upper hand in this.

But he still thinks he does. His hands find my tits, and the triumphant grin on his face…

“Oh! Your nipples are hard! Is this turning you on, baby?”

Ugh! That boy! 

“No, Mikey. Obviously not.” I roll my eyes and snort. “And what about you? I’m sure you find it absolutely terrible to have me grinding in your lap, hm? As hard as your cock is.”

“Hatin’ it.” He grins and pinches my nipples. “You know what I’d like better?” He leans in, his breath hot against my neck. “If the two of us got naked.”

“Hm, yeah… Now that you’re saying it… that does sound like a good idea.”

Scrambling to my feet, I’m quick to slide down my jogging shorts. I’m about to take off my shirt, when Mikey gets up and stands right in front of me… Entirely naked. Damn, he’s quick!

“Lemme do it?”

I just nod, lifting my arms to assist him, but of course, he takes his sweet time, letting the tips of his fingers glide up my skin underneath the fabric. Of course, he has to squeeze my tits when he reaches them, but he lifts the shirt over my face too quickly for me to glare at him. It doesn’t stop me from trying, though. Once the shirt is off my body and Mikey sees my face, he can’t suppress a chuckle and quickly kisses the tip of my nose to make the glare disappear. To his credit, it works. A hot flush gathers in my cheeks, and I quickly turn around, searching the room for… Damn.

“Be right back,” I tell Mikey over my shoulder, taking off my panties to toss at him, but I’ve already dashed through the door before I know if I hit him or not.

Not even a minute later, I come back to the living room, finding Mikey still where I had left him, with my panties in his hands, grinning to himself, most likely proud of himself for getting me to soak them that much.

“What do you want with that?” he asks once he notices I’m back, eyes on the towel in my hand.

“Well… I thought that Will would appreciate it if he didn’t come home to cum stains on the couch.” I shrug.

“Ohhh, yeah… Probably.”

He takes the towel from my hand and puts it down on the couch, then sits down on it. Mikey pats his thighs, signaling for me to sit, but I look at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh!” He grins sheepishly, realizing what I’m looking at and quickly tosses my panties to the floor. He doesn’t even manage to pat his lap again before I climb on top of him. With one hand on my hip, the other on my neck, Mikey pulls me closer until my lips meet his, and the length of his cock rubs against my pussy.

I start to grind my hips into him, throwing my head back at the friction. I feel Mikey’s breath heavy on my neck, then his soft lips on my tender skin. His hands grip me tighter as I move on his cock, pulling my hips deeper into him. By now, the hand he had on my neck has wandered to the back of my head, tugging at my hair to keep my throat exposed to his kisses. I’m sure my neck will be covered in hickeys tomorrow. There’ll be bruises on my hip, too. Fuck! The thought of carrying his marks makes me even wetter. 

“Bunny, I need you,” Mikey pants against my neck. I nod, and he lets me go, so I can sit up. He grips his cock to guide himself in as I hover above his lap, steadying myself with my hands on his shoulders.

“Ready?” I ask.

“Just a second.”

Oh… yeah… Mikey and tits, how could I forget? With my chest on eye level, of course Mikey has to bury his face into it, peppering kisses all over my boobs, sucking and biting at my nipples until I’m a whimpering mess, swaying my hips in the search for friction, inches away from his cock.

“Okay, ready.” He grins, his free hand coming up to my hip to help me ease down on him.

Fuck, fuck, fuck! No matter how many times we do it, I’ll never get used to his size. The delicious stretch of being seated on him all the way has me panting.

“Good girl.”

“Mhh.”

For a moment, I just sit there, resting my head against his shoulder while feeling him pulse inside me. I smile against his skin when he begins to gently stroke my back. His hands shift down to my waist when I start to roll my hips slowly. He squeezes my hips, making me lift up and brace myself on his shoulders. 

Gasping, I relish in the feeling of his cock stroking every spot inside me. I go faster. Harder. His hands shift even lower, grabbing at my butt and guiding my movements. 

"Fuck," we sigh in unison, before breaking in a fit of giggles. With heaving breath, I smile at him, wiping a strand of sweaty hair from his brow before cradling the back of his head in my hands, leaning in to kiss him. He kisses back instantly, tongue swiping along my lower lip to request entrance. Opening my mouth for him, I let his tongue explore my mouth, sucking on it and trying to fight for dominance. We both moan into the kiss, the movement of our hips growing more sloppy, rushed.

"Hey, uh… Oh."

We jump at the familiar voice. Wide-eyed, we turn towards the door, where we find a very flustered looking Will. The thud of his bag hitting the floor makes my eyes snap to his hand that dropped it, then the prominent bulge in the front of his jeans. Once my eyes find his face again, I can spot the hint of a smirk playing around his lips.

"Uhm." Mikey's voice is a little shaky. I feel him twitch inside me. I look back at him, raising my eyebrows in question. He gives me a nod and grinning, I nod back. 

"Will! C'mere." I turn towards him and gesture for him to come closer. He hesitates for a moment before finally taking determined steps towards Mikey and me. 

Standing in front of us, Will leans down to meet my face. his hand reaches up to caress my cheek and I lean into it, missing the gentle touch when his hand wanders down. I gasp when I feel his fingers lightly squeezing my throat, my eyes fluttering shut when he gets even closer. His kiss is still rougher than expected, his tongue claiming dominance right away. I feel myself clenching around Mikey’s cock, a new wave of wetness soaking his lap. Will breaks the kiss way too soon. I try to chase his lips as he pulls back, but he keeps my head in place with his hand around my throat. Smiling while I pout at him, he turns to Mikey.

“Has she been good?”

I feel Mikey shuffle to sit up straighter. A moment passes before he can answer, stunned and with his mouth hanging open slightly. “Yes.” Another moment before he adds an uncertain “...sir?”

Will just nods before finally sitting down right next to Mikey. “You’re gonna be a good girl for me too?”

All I can do is bite my lip and nod. As a reward he grabs my neck again and pulls me in for another deep kiss that leaves me breathless.

Feeling Mikey’s cock twitch inside me, I start grinding on him again. Hot breath against my ear and suddenly there is a pair of lips sucking on my neck. I whimper against Will’s lips when Mikey starts to graze his teeth over the sensitive skin below my ear.

Once Will allows me a moment to breathe again, I kiss my way down to his neck. It’s so much rougher than Mikey’s, the well grown out stubble leaves my lips tingling. I feel him turning his head and his Adam's apple bob against my kiss. At first I think it was to give me better access, but from above me I hear the unmistakable sound of a hesitant but needy kiss. 

Are they- ? Oh fuck, why is that so hot?

Mikey must have felt me squeezing around him because a moment later his hand that was still on my body pushes me to adjust on his cock by the small of my back, nudging against that spot, making me gasp. Being so focused on the changed sensation inside of me, I haven’t even noticed how my nails have started to dig into Will’s chest, until I hear his groan. It wasn’t a pained groan, more like he was enjoying it. Maybe even a little too much. I took that for a sign to take the next step and while he and Mikey are still making out, I start to unbutton Will’s shirt, kissing and nibbling at every inch of skin I uncovered, making sure to scrape my nails down his chest as I go. The lower I go, the more he tangles his fingers into my hair, pushing me further. Once I reach the waistline of his jeans, nuzzle my nose against the thick hair of his happy trail and look up at him with big eyes.

“Can I?” I ask, with my hands on his thighs, close to his crotch.

“Can you what? C’mon, be a good girl. Use your words.”

Wow, those three months really changed him.

I swallow a little nervously and nod before I try again. “Can I take your cock out? I wanna taste it.”

Waiting for an answer, I watch as Mikey sucks on the side of Will’s neck, making him throw his head back and groan.

“Please… sir?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, you can.”

With eager fingers I unbutton his jeans and fumble a little before I manage to pull down the zipper. Already starting to drool with anticipation, I tug at his boxers. He lifts his hips to help me and finally I’m met with the sight of his hard cock springing free.

He is a bit thicker than Mikey, but they’re about the same length. Taking hold of him, I give the head a gentle little kiss before sticking out my tongue to collect the small drop of pre cum leaking from the tip.

“Mmm, good girl,” Will hums and strokes my hair. “Suck on it, c’mon.”

I nod before I take him in my mouth, just the head, suckling on it and toying with it a little with my tongue.

The moan that comes out of his mouth… I’ve never heard anything sexier. It has me squeezing around Mikey unconsciously. 

“Fuuuuuck,” I hear him mutter into Will’s neck. 

The wave of confidence that washes over me at the fact I’m pleasuring not one but two men makes me take Will deeper into my mouth. I hollow my cheeks and press my tongue against the underside of his cock, slowly taking more of him. As I keep bobbing my head up and down his grip on my hair becomes tighter and more and more moans fall from his mouth .

The tingling sensation that spreads through my body from that makes me try to take him even deeper, until I start gagging and my eyes begin to water. By now, my nose is pressing into his hip.

“I can’t… I can’t!” I suddenly hear Mikey wheeze. Will immediately lets go of my hair and I hurry to get off Mikey’s lap.

“What is it?” 

I’m stunned at how calmly Will asks that while I’m staring at a panting Mikey, almost panicking.

“I fucking need…” he wheeses again. Both Will and I stare at him, anxiously waiting for him to continue. “... to get off!” 

I let out a sigh of relief, watching Will chuckle and playfully nudge Mikey with his elbow. The younger man smiles sheepishly and scratches the back of his head.

“I was serious about it, though. So-” he drags out the word “- can we like… get started?”

 I nod slowly, feeling their eyes on me, and look towards Will for guidance.

“How do you want to do this?” He asks me gently, and I shrug, unsure. “Okay then, c'mere.”

While I get closer, he stands up and rearranges the towel so it covers most of the couch and drapes over the armrest, causing Mikey to jump up as well.

“Now, can you get on your hands and knees for us?” Will nearly coos, still it feels like he’s giving no room for discussion. “Isn’t she such a good girl for us?” I can hear him ask Mikey, now behind my back, and I can only imagine Mikey nodding while giving Will puppy dog eyes. “And you? You’re gonna be a good boy for us and let her suck you off.” Again, no room for discussion.

I shuffle closer to the couch's armrest, balancing my weight on my elbows on it, and give Mikey a reassuring nod. He swallows a little nervously, looking at Will, who's getting into position behind me. I lean forward to give Mike a small kiss to his hip bone, then nuzzle my face against the base of his cock. He cups my cheek with one hand, stroking his thumb across my bottom lip when I lean into him, while his other hand grips the base of his cock. I open my lips a bit and suckle on the tip of his thumb as he gently brings my face and himself into position. He pulls his finger from my mouth and I open my lips wider, giving the tip of his cock a little lick, looking up at him through my lashes to see his reaction. He groans and throws his head back. That’s when I take the head in my mouth and start playing with it with my tongue.

Behind me, Will puts a hand on my hip to hold me steady, with the other, he grabs is cock and swipes it up and down on my lips, coating himself in my juices.

“Fuck, you’re so wet!” He groans and pushes in a little. I let out a moan around Mikey’s cock, making him shiver in response. Will slowly keeps pushing in, a deep moan escaping him once he bottoms out. I can only whimper around Mikey’s cock, feeling so full already. 

“Now just stay still, baby, we’ve got you,” Will says, if a little bit strained. I nod as much as I can and look up at Mikey, who’s still holding my face. He pushes himself a little bit deeper into my mouth. I can still taste myself on him as I suck. Will starts moving, thrusting in a slow and steady rhythm, pushing me down on Mikey’s cock with every time his hips meet mine. Again, I moan around Mikey, whose hands start wandering to my hair and grips it to push himself further down my throat. My eyes begin to water when Will picks up the pace, making me take Mikey even deeper. The room is filled with the beautifully filthy sounds of the two men groaning in erotic harmony, skin slapping on skin and my strangled moans as I gag around Mikey’s cock.

“You’re being so good, bunny,” Mikey praises, breathing heavily. “So good for us,” Will adds. “Letting us use you like a little slut.” I can’t help but whimper at that, squeezing around Will’s cock. 

“Oh? Did you like that?” Will leans down closer to my ear, whispering, “You like it when I call you slut?” I nod as much as I can with Mikey in my mouth. “You’re so filthy. Nothing more than a toy for us to use.”

He fucks me harder, making me whimper and take Mikey even deeper. Tears are beginning to stream down my face, but it all feels so good. I can’t help but clench around him, the coil in my belly starting to tighten. 

So it takes me by surprise when Will suddenly slows to a stop. A little out of breath he says, “This isn’t it. Let’s take this to the bedroom.” 

Mikey nods, pulling from my mouth and Will picks me up, carrying me over to the bedrooms. My mind is far too lazy to see whose bedroom we end up in when Will tosses me onto the bed with a bounce.

“Let your head hang over the edge. Yes, just like this, good girl.”

I watch upside down as Mikey kneels down by my head, positioning himself. I open my mouth widely, obediently and he pushes his cock back into my mouth. Closing my eyes, I start sucking on him again as Will climbs up over me, kneels on the bed and grabs my thighs. He doesn’t make me wait long and thrusts back in in one smooth movement. I moan loudly around Mikey’s cock when he bottoms out, finally feeling full again. Complete, in a sense.

Before he begins to thrust, though, he pulls my hips up onto his legs, making me arch my back and take Mikey deeper down my throat. All three of us moan in sinful harmony, skin slapping and wet slurping composing a filthy melody of bliss. With the new angle, I can feel the burning coil tightening faster as the tip of Will’s cock strokes all the spots perfectly, the base of him rubbing against my clit. My moans rise in pitch, even muffled by Mikey fucking my face. His hips begin to stutter, he’s close as well. Will, of course, notices that and picks up his pace, fucking me faster.

Fuck! This feels so good!

Mikey’s groans mix with little gasps as I feel him twitch. He’s close, I can tell. I use my tongue to play with him, eliciting little whimpers from him.

“S-sir, ‘m so close… can I cum? Please?” Mikey begs between little gasps and whines.

“Go a-head,” Will tells him, his own voice strained as well. I brace myself, sucking Mikey harder. A few more thrusts into my mouth and he stills, whimpering loudly as his warm load hits my tongue. I swallow it down eagerly, but gasp when he pulls out of my mouth. I take a few deep breaths as I watch him stand and jerk himself, another, smaller load landing on my chest.

“Fuuuck,” he groans.

“Good boy,” Will praises him, doubling his efforts now, fucking me even harder. His hand comes up to my chest, grabbing and kneading my tits for a moment before swiping two fingers through Mike’s cum and bringing those fingers down to my clit, drawing slow but firm circles around the little bud. I cry out, clenching hard around him. The coil keeps growing tighter until it… Snaps. With a high pitched moan, I fall over the edge, white hot bliss carrying me as my body writhes in pleasure. Through a haze I can hear Will groan and feel a warmth spreading inside me. I open up my eyes to see him hovering above me, dipping his head down to meet my lips in a passionate kiss. I kiss him back eagerly, letting our tongues fight for dominance until we need to stop for air. Will sits up again, reaches out an arm and pulls in Mikey for a just as passionate kiss. I watch them, a satiated smile on my face. I get up on my knees, squeezing between them to kiss their necks and chests alternately. Once the part, the three of us collapse on the bed naked and panting, a tangled mess of limbs. 

“You know…” Mikey breathes heavily, “we were going to throw you a welcome home partly…”

Will chuckles at that, “You still could…”

I just shake my head, giggling. “Let’s just order pizza.”

[ellethespaceunicorn-masterlist]

Scrapbook Masterlist

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Mike x Black!OFC (Dimples)

Summary: A collection of moments with Mike and Daisy (Dimples).

Spotify Playlist is here.

Dividers credit on each chapter.

Cover Art by me

Support/Reblog banner by me

Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Epilogue (finished)

Family Tree

My Masterlist