#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.”

[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.

[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.

[lainiespicewrites]

A lesson in flirting

Hi friends! This one had been sitting in my unfinished stories for a while. I love a good Henry fic It's another OFC because I can't seem to get off the "Self-insert" thing rn! LOL but you guys seem to love these stories and writing myself as a main character just gives me this air of confidence...Idk lmao... anyway enjoy! Also maybe doing this is part of kinktober?? Idk I’m not really following a prompt list buuut this kind goes with size kink??? Idk? I just wanna post more!

Plot: In which Alayna and her friends are at a bar, she's trying to explain to her friends that flirting is easy. until she sees Henry and her friends tell her to put her money where her mouth is.

Warnings: Smut Like just so much smut. Dirty talk, Oral (male and female receiving), P in V smut, creampie

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

 “No, I mean it! It’s so easy! Men aren’t THAT complicated.” I exclaimed. Hayley shook her head at me. I laughed and downed the rest of my drink.

“You are so boy crazy,” She laughed, “If it’s so easy prove it!” she smirked. Shit, I’d been drinking and lord knows I’m not one to back down from a challenge. I looked over at Skyler who had the same look on her face. 

“Come on Alayna, you look so good tonight! Don’t waste it! You’ve been eyeing that guy by the bar for the last 5 minutes. Go for it!” She urged. I really stuck my foot in my mouth here. I’d been telling them about a time I went out a few months ago and decided I wanted to kiss this guy and just … made it happen. I may have been a little overconfident. I looked over again at the guy they were talking about. He was absolutely gorgeous. He was at least 6’1 with beautiful dark curls and one of the sweetest smiles I’d ever seen. 

“I-I don’t know, I’m all talk,” I said immediately going back on my previous statement. “This guy is way out of my league.”I sighed. 

“No he isn’t!,” Skyler said quickly, “You’re literally so hot! He’d be stupid not to be into you.” Hayley nodded. 

“She’s right dude! Prove yourself right! Go talk to him.” I took one look back at him. Well hopefully if this doesn’t work out I don’t make myself look like an idiot. 

“Alright,” I paused looking at the girls. “Commencing phase one.” I joked.

“Jesus,” Hayley shook her head and Skyler just laughed. 

“Yes! Go get your man!” She cheered me on. Okay, Phase one. Luckily this would be easy. The bartender Nick was already down at his end of the bar so it was the perfect excuse to “Bump into him” and squeeze my way up to the bar to order another drink. It helps that it’s a little crowded too. I pushed past a group of country boys standing around holding their Busch lights. The kind that rolls into the bar in tattered jeans they’ve been working in all day and dirty old work boots. Definitely not my first choice. I shake the thought out of my head starting to get nervous as I approach him. His back is toward me now. I walked up next to him at the counter, my shoulder brushing against him. 

“I’m so sorry!” I blushed. He turned to look at me and smiled. 

“That’s perfectly okay! It's a bit crowded here tonight huh?” he asked, chuckling softly.  Sweet baby Jesus, he’s British! I nodded. Nick was still with another customer so I took the opportunity to make light conversation. 

“Whatcha drinking?” I asked. He fully turned to face me.  Beer bottle in hand. 

“Guinness has always been my favorite.” He said, taking a sip. “Are you a beer drinker?” he asked. I shook my head. 

“Not unless I'm already drunk, or it's in an Irish car bomb.” I joked. He laughed and raised an eyebrow.

“An Irish car bomb? Wouldn’t have assumed that’d be your drink of choice.” He smirked.

“Oh, it’s not! but my brother took me out for my 21st with his friends, they’re like my brothers. Anyway, I did a full “bombs away” Not sure if you’ve heard of that?” I raised an eyebrow. He chuckled, nodding. 

“I do, That had to be a rough time!” 

“It was certainly rough the next day!” The bartender was finally ready so I made eye contact with him to signal I wanted to order. 

“What's up?” he asked. 

“Hey, can I get another Rum and Coke please?” He nodded and walked away to get it started. Nick was a man of little words. I appreciated that about him. 

“Not a bad choice,” I heard the guy say. I laughed

“It’s been my drink of choice since my friend and I started stealing “captain” out of her parent's liquor cabinet senior year.” He chuckled softly. Just then Nick came back with my drink. I smiled and thanked him again. He just nodded. I turned back to the mystery guy and smiled. “Well, it was nice talking to you!” I said. 

“You too! Sorry, I don’t think I got your name.” He said. 

“Alayna!” I said quickly. 

“Alayna,” He repeated and smiled. “I’m Henry,” 

“Nice to meet you, Henry!” I said and started to walk away. 

“Nice to meet you, Alayna!” He called after me. I walked back to the girls' new drink in hand and a spring in my step. I smirked sitting back down in between them. 

“Oh my god how’d it go?!” Skyler asked immediately. 

“So he’s fucking British!” I stated. 

“You’re kidding!” Hayley added. I shook my head. 

“Dead ass! His name is Henry, and that’s about all I know! Except he’s even more beautiful up close!” I tried so hard not to squeal. Having a crush was thrilling and fun even if it went nowhere.

“Okay not to get your hopes up but he’s definitely looking this way!” Skyler said. I brought my drink to my lips took a long sip and let my eyes fall in his direction. He was and he was smiling. Before I could catch his eye his attention was brought back to his friend as they continued their conversation. 

“I told you.” I shrugged. Hayley shook her head.

“That doesn’t prove anything buddy, maybe he just thought you were nice,” she stated. Skyler laughed

“He was absolutely staring at her ass as she walked away but okay yeah he just thought she was nice.” She said, I was blushing and trying so desperately to act cool but I knew it wasn’t coming out that way. I took a long pull of my drink and sighed.  

“This is gonna be a high school crush situation all over again if I can’t hold it together. God, he’s so beautiful up close though. I really don’t know how I managed that conversation, let alone blatant flirting.” I shook my head and changed the subject. Asking the girls about work. I had neither of them fooled but they let me change the subject.

 “It’s going okay but I certainly could use a vacation,” Hayley said. I laughed 

“Says the girl who was in Hawaii 3 months ago!” I rolled my eyes. 

“Yeah, and you left us here!” Skyler argued. Hayley retorted with something sarcastic but I didn’t hear her. Henry was walking in our direction and I immediately caught his eye. He smiled when he saw me slowing down as he was walking past. 

“Hey! Are you having a good night?” He asked. I nodded and gave him a big smile.

“I’m having a great night! Just out with the girls. And you?” He quickly glanced over at them and smiled softly. 

“That’s awesome,” He turned his attention back to me and it was a bit dark but I’m almost positive he gave me a once over. “And I’m good! Great now, just a little buzzed and headed to the toilet,” He chuckled. 

“Well don’t let me keep you!” I laughed. I watched as he smirked slightly, looking me over again. He gave me a quick wink.

 “I’ll see you later, love,” He spoke and then walked away toward the restrooms. As he walked away I heard Skyler trying to hold back a squeal. 

“He was absolutely flirting with you!” She smiled. Even Hayley agreed. 

“Dude it’s like we weren’t even here,” She said. I smiled.

“Yeah, I noticed that. But he does seem really sweet! I’m gonna let him make the next move though.” All of a sudden feeling a rush of energy I downed the rest of my drink.  “Fuck it let's go dance!” I said standing up and pulling both of them up with me. I heard Hayley start to complain that she can’t dance so I took her hand and spun her. “Just move! Everyone’s drunk anyway. No one cares! Let loose!” I said. Skyler grabbed my hand and spun me and then jokingly twerked on me. We were laughing and genuinely having a good time. 

This is what we came out for tonight. Just to have fun and be carefree. The song switched to some early 2000s girl group. The kind that makes you feel invincible. The girls and I were still dancing. I spun around and almost ran directly into Henry. 

“I’m so sorry!” I giggled. Clearly more a little more buzzed now. Henry smirked. 

“No need to apologize darling. You’re having fun!” He chuckled. 

“I am!” I exclaimed. “You should dance with me!” He smiled but raised an eyebrow. 

“I’m not much of a dancer, Love,” He said. I pouted. 

“Please? It’ll be fun!” I begged. He chuckled. 

“Of course, I will, for you!” He smiled. I let out an excited squeak causing him to laugh. I grabbed his hand and pulled him to a slightly less crowded area of the makeshift dance floor. I turned around and pressed my back to his chest. Immediately his hands found my hips. I slowly started to move my hips against him and looked back giving him a cheeky smile. 

“Told you I’d make it fun!” I said. He smirked and licked his lips slowly.

“I never doubted that,” He spoke. He slowly started moving his hands up my sides. I bit my lip. I loved the feeling of his hands on my body. I felt my shirt rise a little as his fingers moved over the hem of the crop top. Then I felt his fingertips against my neck as he brushed my hair back off my shoulder. I pressed against him, grinding on him to the music. His breath was hot against my neck. “Enjoying yourself, love?”  He spoke his voice low and gravely. I knew he wanted to make a move. I could feel him against me. But He was trying to be respectful.  Or as respectful as he could with my ass pressed to him. 

“Mmhmm, but I’d be having more fun if you’d kiss me.” I started trying so hard to play cool. My heart was racing and the anticipation felt like electricity coursing through me. He moved his hands back down squeezing my hips before he turned me around to face him. He was smiling. God, he was such a beautiful man.  He brushed a strand of hair out of my face. “You have the prettiest smile I’ve ever seen by the way.” I blushed, losing my nerve now that I was looking him in the eye. 

“You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” He said back. I blushed. 

“That can’t be true, you’re like, insanely hot!” I blurted out. He chuckled, tightening his grip on my hip and pulling me flush against him. My hands were on his chest. Fuck he was solid. We were so close. I was even more nervous now that I had the chance to really look at him. He was wearing a plaid button-up with the top 3 buttons undone and revealing a patch of chest hair. His shoulders were broad and strong. I felt small in his arms. The way he was looking at me I felt like I’d have fallen over if he hadn’t been holding me up.

“Yeah, and you’re absolutely gorgeous,” He stated. He caressed my cheek softly before leaning in and kissing me. I immediately kissed him back. I moved so my arms were wrapped around his shoulders and tangled my fingers in his hair. He groaned softly, walking me backward until my back was pressed against the wall. He kissed me roughly and as he pulled away he caught my bottom lip between his teeth biting down softly before pressing one last gentle kiss to my lips. He looked down at me hungrily. “I wanna take you home with me.” He growled in my ear before he started kissing my neck.

“I’m sure the girls won’t miss me,” I smirked. He stopped peppering kisses along my jaw and looked me in the eyes. 

“Is that a yes, love?” He raised an eyebrow, a small smirk forming on his face. 

“If I don’t go with you, you’re coming home with me! I don’t wanna miss out on you!” I said. And maybe it was a little eager but I meant it. There was no way I was walking away from him now. “Give me like two seconds to let my friends know so they aren’t panicking though!” I said. He gave me a soft smile and kissed my cheek. 

“Of course darling,” I walked over to where the girls were still dancing not far from me. No doubt they’d seen our spur-of-the-moment makeout session. I didn’t care. 

“Hey so um…” I started. 

“You Whore,” Hayley stated before I could say anything. I just laughed. 

“You know it!” I joked back. 

“Just make sure you use protection! I mean it!” Skyler said. “And I want details!!” She added. I laughed. 

“Okay well, I’m gonna go then … you guys get home safe!”

 After a quick goodbye, I turned around and found Henry at the bar closing his tab. He smiled when he saw me and pulled me to his side. 

“Are you ready to get out of here?” He asked. I nodded. He kept his arm around me as we walked out. He led us to his car, opening the door for me. He got in started the car and paused. “My place or yours?” He asked nonchalantly. 

“Yours, one of the girls lives right down the hall and I don’t need her keeping an eye on me.” I chuckled. 

“It’s sweet that she checks in though. Do you live alone?” He asked. 

“Well hold on, how do I know if I tell you that you aren’t gonna stalk me and murder me?” I raised an eyebrow. 

“Because you’re already in my car and if I wanted to kill you I could just do it now.” He paused for a second and chuckled. “I’m not a murderer, I promise. Besides if I killed you I couldn’t take you on a proper date after all this. That wouldn’t be very chivalrous, and to be honest I just know I wanna see you again.” I was blushing. 

“Okay, you make a good argument,” I said. “I wanna see you again too. And we haven’t fucked yet.” I immediately squeezed my eyes shut. I can’t believe I said that. And I was too nervous to see the look on his face. I felt him put his hand on my thigh. I slowly looked over at him. He was smirking. 

“Oh, but we will.” He stated. He looked over at me letting his eyes roam over my body quickly before he focused back on the road. 

Fuck. He’s so hot, this man is about to ruin all other men for me. I heard him chuckle. “Doing okay over there love?” He squeezed my thigh and let his hand wander further up. I bit my lip and nodded. 

“Y-yeah, having the best time right now!” fucking idiot. 

“It’ll be even better in a few minutes. You’re so sexy. Do you have any idea what you were doing to me back there?” It was my turn to smirk. 

“I’ve got a pretty good idea. Pretty sure I could feel it!” I teased. He playfully smacked my thigh. God this was gonna be a good night. 

“Not sure how you could miss it with your ass pressed against me like that.”  I just laughed.

“I didn’t hear you complaining!” I said and laced my fingers with his hand that was resting on my thigh. 

“I wasn’t,” he smiled, bringing my hand to his lips and kissing my knuckles. He let go of my hand as he turned into his driveway and put the car in park. He waited for me in front of the car and took my hand again leading me up to his house. He quickly unlocked the door and I followed him inside.

 He flipped on a light in the entryway so we could see where we were going. Then he turned back to me grabbed me by the waist and pulled me into him. I initiated the kiss wrapping my arms around his shoulder and tangling my fingers in his curls pulling him down to me. It was a very needy kiss. Pressing my lips to his and letting him suck my bottom lip between his. He backed me into the wall and started to kiss my neck. “Fuck your such a naughty girl, what am I gonna do with you?” He asked and then scraped his teeth across my neck. I moaned and tugged at his curls. He growled against my neck, soothing it with soft kisses. His touch was sending shockwaves through my body. I needed more of him. I ran my hands down his shoulders and over his chest. I brushed my hand over his cock, he was already getting hard. I teasingly squeezed him over his jeans. “Mmm” he moaned softly pulling away from his assault on my neck to watch me tease him.

I continued to explore his body, slipping my hands under his shirt and letting my fingers brush across his abs. I bit my lip when I felt him tense under my fingertips. He chuckled and stepped back pulling off his shirt, a proud smirk on his face. He was incredibly muscular. His chest was solid and broad. He was hairy which I had to admit was a serious turn-on. I hadn’t realized it until now. His stomach was hard and defined. It’s like he was carved out of stone. His happy trail matching his chest hair. He had to be incredibly strong. The muscles in his arms were large. He towered over me making me feel small. But his face was so soft and kind and gentle. His eyes were crystal blue and so inviting. He had such a warm smile. God I was mesmerized by this man.  His voice broke me out of my trance. 

“Come here Darling,” he said, pulling me to him again. He pulled at the bottom of my top and leaned in pressing a sweet slow kiss to my lips. “Take this off for me?” He asked. I bit my lip 

“mmhmm” I mumbled, taking a step back to take off my top. I dropped it to the floor and looked up at him. His eyes were focused on my chest. 

“Fuck” he whispered and licked his lips. His eyes flicked back up to mine. “I could tell you had big tits but, wow” he whistled jokingly and I rolled my eyes and laughed. 

“Omg shut up! Says the guy literally built like a Greek God!” Now he was laughing. I stood on my toes kissing him again. I reached my hand between us rubbing over his jeans. He growled against my lips.

“Mm slow down baby, we’ve got all night.” He led me to his couch and pulled me onto his lap so I was straddling him.  Trust me Im gonna fuck you tonight darling, I’m definitely gonna fuck you.” He started kissing my neck down to my chest and he kissed the top of my breasts. Then he pulled my bra down and took my nipple in his mouth. I moaned, arching into him and he wrapped his arm around my back holding me to him. 

“But you’re going to make me beg first,” I teased, biting my lip. He hummed around my breast smirking before biting down and dragging my nipple between his teeth. I gasped and ran my fingers through his hair. 

“I love hearing the sounds you make for me,” He moaned as he gave the other breast the same attention. He was driving me crazy. I whimpered softly grinding my hips feeling into his. Trying to get some friction against his now fully hard cock in his jeans. 

“Please Henry,” I moaned.  as he finally unhooked my bra and tossed it aside. He dug his fingers into my hips keeping me still. I couldn’t help the whine that escaped me.

He kissed back up my chest leaving a chaste little kiss on my lips. Fuck he was such a tease. 

“God you’re desperate for it, aren’t you love,” He smirked. “Why don’t you show me how bad you want it,” He nodded toward the floor and I knew exactly what he meant. I slid off his lap and onto my knees in front of him. He stood from the couch and pulled himself from his jeans. Fuck he was big, and already so hard. There was a bead of precum glistening from the tip. If he wanted to tease two could play that game. 

I leaned forward and licked the head of his cock smiling up at him sweetly. 

“Mm don’t stop now love, we're just getting started.” He moaned cock twitching in his hand as the other hand brushed the hair out of my face and rested on the back of my head. 

“You’re just so big, not sure I can handle all of you,” I teased. He chuckled softly running his thumb over my bottom lip. 

“You’ve been talking big talk all night baby, I’m sure you can make it fit,” He winked. I blushed but let him guide me forward taking him in my mouth. I hollowed my cheeks bobbing my head slowly. At first only took him halfway and slowly let him hit the back of my throat. He was already moaning for me. Tightening his fingers in my hair guiding me along his cock. “That's it, love, just like that, fuck,” He growled. He pushed my head further down forcing his cock further down my throat. I choked and my eyes started to water but I let him hold me there. I knew it had to feel incredible for him. He pulled me back and I came up gasping for air. He chuckled. “Fuck that’s so sexy. I need more of you.” He held out his hand to help me up and immediately crashed his lips to mine. He bit my bottom lip dragging his teeth across it slowly before finally releasing me. 

“Are you gonna fuck me now baby?” I asked shyly gently running my fingers down his chest. 

“You’ve more than earned it now darling.” He said kissing me again more gently this time. “But I still wanna please you first.” He smirked bending to pick me up over his shoulder. 

“Henry!” I squealed laughing softly. He chuckled and smacked my ass as he carried me to his bedroom. He dropped me gently onto his bed finally ridding himself completely of his jeans and boxers. He gave me one last look asking for permission before stripping me completely as well. He didn’t speak just smiled to himself and started to kiss and grab and feel all over. Kissing my chest and my stomach. Squeezing my breasts. He settled between my legs spreading my thighs kissing and biting at the inside. He slowly made his way up to my core. 

“Fucking dripping for me. I could feel it when you were in my lap. So needy.” He ran his fingers through my folds spreading my slick smirking to himself. I whimpered softly unable to take it anymore. 

“Fuck please don’t tease me, I need you to touch me. Please, Henry.” I begged. He just smirked.  He spread my lips swiping his tongue through my folds. He pulled me closer by my hips and started circling my clit with his tongue. He pulled it between his lips sucking softly and continued to lick. I moaned tossing my head back and my fingers found his curls again. “Oh fuck!” He slipped two fingers into me curving them into me as he continued his assault on my clit. 

It wasn’t long before I felt the coil build up in my stomach. “Henry, I’m gonna cum!” I whimpered. He didn’t let up just continued through my orgasm licking up my juices and pulled back with a growl. Kissing his way back up my body. 

“God you taste incredible,” He moaned in my ear before flipping me onto my knees on the bed and spreading my thighs. “I need to be inside you.” He groaned, lining himself up with my core running his head through my folds gathering the wetness there. He started to push in slowly. “Such a tight little pussy.” He groaned. “Relax for me, baby.” He leaned down kissing my shoulder as he pushed all the way in. “Such a good girl for me, always so ready for my cock.” he growled. I whimpered. I’d never felt so full. It felt incredible. He finally pulled out slowly and started a rhythm holding onto my hips as he took me from behind. Our moans the sounds of our bodies meeting filling my ears. 

“Mm it feels so good,” I moaned pulling at the comforter I could feel my orgasm building again. I started to squeeze around him. Henry pulled out and I whined softly. I heard him chuckle. He flipped me onto my back wrapping my legs around his waist as he shoved himself back into me. 

“I need to see your beautiful face when you cum on my cock baby.” He moaned picking up the pace. He was starting to get close too. He kissed my neck and I dug my nails into his back surely to leave scratches there tomorrow as I came undone around him. He growled in my ear as he thrusted a few more times letting go inside me. 

“You’re so fucking perfect.” He moaned. He kissed all over my face and smiled. “Are you alright darling?” He asked catching his breath

“I’m amazing,” I laughed. 

“Fuck yeah you are,” He chuckled. He laid down next to me for a moment pulling me into him. “Just give me a minute,” he breathed. 

I knew we were just getting started.

[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

[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.

[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??

[ravenrosequartz]

Wow 🤩 oh wow. This was so hot to read

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.

Keep reading

[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.”

[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 

[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.”

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

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Scrapbook: Chapter 1

Title: And Now My Bedsheets Smell Like You

Rating: Mature, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Mike x Black!OFC (Dimples)

Fandom: Hellraiser: Hellworld

Word Count: ~2.2K

Summary: A collection of moments with Mike and Daisy (Dimples).

Chapter Summary: How Mikey and Daisy met.

Warnings: dry-humping, a very drunk secondary character, sexting

A/N: I owe Mikey after what happened in Make That Kitty Purr, so this is part of my amends. I know Mike is perpetually in his early 20s, but let’s take a leap of faith here, people! Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Spotify Playlist is here.

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

“I wouldn’t be a good friend if I didn’t try and introduce you to Derrick’s roommate,” Jasmine says, checking her lipgloss in the mirror.

“Jas, I hate to be the bearer of bad news. But Derrick is terrible and any friend of his is probably equally as terrible,” Daisy starts twirling her braids around her fingers, her 5’3 frame leaning back against the sink, “So, thanks. But no thanks.”

“He’s literally out there right now waiting to meet you, Daisy.” Jasmine pleads, in the way a horny friend does.

“Fine. I’ll take him off your hands, but you owe me.” Daisy relents and allows Jasmine to lead her back into the party.

Walking back into the large crowd, Daisy regrets coming. A bunch of college kids, drunk and/or high, grinding on each other and shouting over the music to try and have a conversation. This wasn’t her speed, but she refused to have Jasmine here by herself. And if she was honest with herself, she also needed a break from reality.

“Jas! Over here!” Derrick’s booming voice travels over the crowd and Jasmine pulls her best friend over in that direction.

“Look, Mike. Her roommate is super cute, just entertain her so Jasmine and I can have some ‘quality time’.” Derrick proceeds to make a gesture with his hips that makes him wanna slap his friend.

“Fine, but please don’t ever do that again or you’ll never get laid.” Mike pats Derrick on the shoulder and takes a sip of beer looking off into the crowd before Derrick is getting his attention again.

Jasmine is now in front of Derrick, gesturing to Daisy and then to Mike. “Hi, Mike! This is Daisy. Daisy, meet Mike.” No sooner did she introduce them, were she and Derrick playing tonsil hockey.

“Seriously, guys?” Daisy steps closer to Mike and pulls him away from the two lip lockers. 

“Easy, Sweetcheeks. You’re gonna pull my arm off.” Mike complains as he’s dragged to another room of the party away from the dull roar of the stereo.

“Sweetcheeks?” Daisy smiles from ear to ear, stopping in her tracks to swing back around to look at Mike. The smile makes her dimples show up and Mike smiles back.

“Look at that! Forget me calling you Sweetcheeks, you’re ‘Dimples’ from now on.” Mike blurts, his smile taking up half his face.

“Dimples, huh? I’ll only let you call me that if you can find a quiet place in here,” Mike notices Daisy isn’t enjoying the party atmosphere and nods.

“Yeah, of course,” He grabs her hand and leads her in the opposite direction to the stairs, “Follow me, Dimples.”

Daisy follows Mike up the stairs and down a hallway before being ushered into a room. A bedroom.

“Wait, Mike, if you think–” Daisy starts, but Mike cuts her off.

“Trust me, Dimples. I won’t try anything,” He crosses his heart, “Unless you want me to, that is.” Wiggling his eyebrows, he pulls a laugh from her.

“I mean, you are kinda cute. Maybe I wouldn’t get bored if you kept trying.” She winks at him and goes to sit at his computer desk.

Taking off his hoodie, he hangs it on the back of his bedroom door before sitting on his bed. “So, if you’re not really into parties, what are you doing at this one?” When Daisy whips her head around, he follows up with, “Not that I’m complaining! Just seems odd.”

“Jasmine is really pushy. And since she’s my roommate, she has the ability to bug me nonstop. Plus, she wanted to see Derrick and wouldn’t shut up about it. Plus, I feel like I’m not exactly having the ‘college experience’.” Daisy rolls her eyes and busies herself with spinning in the desk chair.

“There are tons of ‘college experiences’, ya know? Going to class hungover, finding out your limit for sleep deprivation, making out with someone you barely know at a party.” He reaches over and stops Daisy in the spinning chair before pulling her over to him.

Daisy reaches up to Mike’s shoulder to steady herself. “Ok, I’m a little dizzy but I’m sure I heard you say something about making out, right?”

“That was only to get your attention and see if you were listening to me,” Mike pokes at Daisy’s dimple and chuckles to himself when she bats his hand away, “Unless you’re interested, that is.” He bites his lip and hopes for the best.

“Maybe. I kinda like it when guys take charge. The whole pick me up and put me on the nearest surface thing is very hot. Hint hint.” Daisy winks at him and Mike’s demeanor changes in an instant.

He stands up to pick up Daisy and places her on his desk. “How’s that, Dimples?”

Daisy reaches up and tangles her fingers in Mike’s hair, pulling him down to crash their lips together. Surprised by the softness of his lips, she moans into his mouth. Taking the lead, he slides his tongue between her lips. He groans into the kiss and moves to mouth his way down her neck to suck a hickey into it.

“Wrap your legs around me,” Mike picks her back up and she does as she’s told. Latching back onto her neck, he turns around and lays them down on his bed. Leaning up on one hand, he cradles her face in the other after moving one of her braids out of her face. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah, it’s more than okay.” She pants, reaching down to grab his ass.

He growls, grinding into her and locking their lips together again. He can feel the heat coming off of her core beneath her skirt and whimpers into her mouth before he can stop himself. Resting on one forearm, he snakes a hand to her boobs. When she writhes beneath him and wraps a leg around his, he massages her breasts before using a thumb to tease her nipple through her shirt.

Pulling back from their kiss, Daisy pipes up. “Mike, as much as I love my tits played with, I kinda would love it if you moved your hand a little down south?”

Mike smiles and moves his hand to her tummy before tickling her until she is laughing uncontrollably and begging him to stop.

“What was that for?” She asks, catching her breath.

“As much as I wanna put my hands everywhere on your body, I’d much rather do that after we have our first actual date?” He does that cute little lip bite again.

“Mike, are you asking me out?” Daisy leans in to nibble at Mike’s neck.

“Dimples, you are making it hard to stay focused right now. I’m trying to…ask you out…while I still have…higher brain function.” 

“I’d love to go out with you, Mike, but I have one condition.” Daisy sits up and dons a serious expression.

“Anything, just ask me and I’ll do it.” Mike runs a hand through his hair and not so subtly adjusts himself.

“Promise that we never have to go on a double date with Jas and Derrick. I don’t think I can handle their inevitable public breakup.” 

Now it was Mike’s turn to laugh out loud. “Trust me, Dimples. I guarantee that we will never be available for a double date with those two. That sounds absolutely terrible and I plan on our dates being phenomenal.”

“Phenomenal, huh? That’s a tall order, Mikey.”

“Luckily, I’m tall,” He moves off the bed and stands to his full height, towering over Daisy, “And just so you know, I kinda like you so I kinda wanna impress you. Did I just say the quiet part out loud?” Scratching the back of his neck, he laughs nervously.

“It should be illegal for you to be this cute, Mikey,” She stands up on his bed and wraps her arms around his neck, “I kinda like you too, by the way.” She slots their mouths together with a smile on her face.

Picking her up and setting her down on the ground, Mike continues the kiss until there is a knock at the door. He goes to open the door to Derrick who looks both tired and excited somehow.

“Hey, man. You doing alright?” Mike probes as Derrick holds up a finger and rushes to the wastebasket next to his bed. “Well, that answers that question.”

“I should probably go and let you take care of…all that.” 

“Yea, probably. But, he’ll be fine for a minute or two, come on.” Grabbing her hand, he retrieves his hoodie and steps out of the room just as Derrick retches loudly. “Here, take my phone and put your number in and I’ll put my number in yours.” 

They exchange phone numbers and give each other back their phones. “Oh shit, Jas texted me earlier saying she left after a fight with Derrick.”

“I’ll walk you home, Dimples. I mean, if that’s ok?” Mike holds out his hand, which she takes with a smile.

“That sounds great, Mikey.” She stands up on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Let’s get out of here.”

Mike and Daisy walk down the block to her dorm. He eventually wraps her up in his hoodie when she shivers just once. She decides she definitely likes him at that point. As they come up to the front of the dorm, some girls are outside. She spots Jasmine in the middle of the group, no doubt badmouthing Derrick and looking to be comforted.

“Something tells me the last thing that group wants to see is a man, so I’m gonna say goodbye here if that’s cool?” The look of fear on his face makes her wanna kiss it away.

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. Text me tomorrow?” She begins to take off his hoodie, but he stops her.

“I’ll text you tomorrow. And hold onto the hoodie,” At her confused expression, he continues, “Give it back to me on our date, Dimples.”

Her smile brings forth her dimples again and he is smitten. She pulls him down to give him a quick kiss then ends up being a bit steamier than either of them planned. Pulling back, she ruffles his hair and ushers him back down the street before the girls can see him.

Waving goodbye, he walks backward and watches her until she is out of sight. 

He makes it back to his dorm. The last of the stragglers either fell asleep in the various living areas or left. Heading back up to his room, he finds Derrick sprawled across his bed having stripped down to his boxers and t-shirt. 

Mike settles into his bed, pulling out his phone to text Daisy.

M: Is Jasmine still pissed at all men on the planet?

D: Probably? I came up to our room to get away from all that negativity.

M: So you’re in your bedroom…alone?

D: Yup. All alone and in sexy jammies too.

M: The urge to ask you for a pic is overwhelming.

D: Good thing you’re not asking.

D: [image sent]

M: IS THIS THE REWARD FOR NOT ASKING?

D: It’s your reward for being a good boy, Mikey. Plus it’s just me in my nightgown.

M: Yeah, but it’s a tight nightgown and you’re curvy and your nipples are poking through and I’m salivating…

D: You really like boobs, don’t you?

M: Yes. 

M: Especially yours. You’re very responsive.

D: Sensitive nipples, Mikey. Just say it.

M: Fine. I like the idea that your nipples are sensitive because all I wanted to do was suck on them so I could hear your sweet little moans.

D: Fuck!

M: Just remember that when you wanna try and tease me again, Dimples.

D: So I shouldn’t mention how I’m gonna give you the most enthusiastic head the next time we hang out?

M: Fuck. 

M: Ok, truce? We’re just gonna go back and forth here and I’m only so strong.

M: Having you underneath me was just too good.

D: I liked being underneath you, having you grinding into me.

M: Dimples, you’re killing me.

D: Sorry! 

D: I just feel comfortable talking to you, like I can tell you all my dirty sexy secrets, and instead of judging me you’d just experiment with me.

M: Of course, I would experiment with you. I feel like I created you in a lab. You honestly can’t be this perfect.

D: Did you just reference Weird Science? That’s the sweetest nerdiest thing ever.

M: I am so turned on by you. Honestly, my dick cannot get any harder than it is right now.

D: The idea of your dick pressed up against me is back on my mind again, Mikey.

M: Would love to have you on top next time.

D: I love being on top!

M: God, you’re perfect. I can’t wait to take you out on a date and then throw you over my shoulder and bring you back to my room and have my way with you.

D: You know the way to my heart. And I’m getting tired.

M: Alright, let’s go to sleep. Dream of me?

D: As if I could do anything else. Night, Mikey.

M: Night, Dimples.

Chapter 2

A/N: The song for this chapter is Shape of You by Ed Sheeran. Yes, this will be my third ongoing series. Yes, I made the story art before I realized I would break this up into chapters. But, like, it’s Mikey with a family!! I couldn’t say no to him.

**Tag List**

@brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67 @geralts-yenn

@astheskycries @enchantedbytomandhenry @rebelangel1102 (I think you asked to be tagged?)

Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁

[peyton-warren]

this family is a riot and Id love to get nailed by all of them! this is lovely and hot and really awesome. Thank you for sharing with us.

and I really need to watch Hell raiser already.

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.

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Send me an anonymous ask completing the sentence "I wish you would write a fic where..."

...you are constantly arguing with your annoying neighbour Mike. Until your anger turns into something else...

Next door

Masterlist

A/N: So this anon ask has been in my inbox for the LONGEST time, and I finally got around to writing this... My brain is on fire right now, so if there are any tags missing please tell me!!!

Pairing: annoying neighbor Mike x reader

Summary: This new guy next door is really bugging you... Until - yet another - noise complaint one night gets a happy ending.

Word count: 4.1k

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI. Oral (m and f receiving), p-in-v sex (unprotected. Be smarter!), a reflective surface is involved (not a mirror, but ehh), cum play, Mike calls reader 'little missy' once. Oh yeah and they're taking nudes, which I feel I should at least mention.

@deandoesthingstome @geralts-yenn @ellethespaceunicorn @mayloma @summersong69 @ylva-syverson @sillyrabbit81 @livisss

“Turn the fucking music down!” You slammed your fist against the door for the hundredth time. The left-hand neighbor had always been a minor pain in your ass, but this... Maybe it wasn’t the middle of the night, but the walls of these apartments were pretty much made of glorified rice paper, and you hadn’t bought tickets to this impromptu rave, so...

The door opened suddenly, leaving you standing in front of it, looking like an idiot with your fist raised up in the air. Especially when your jaw dropped to the floor to boot. Firstly, because this wasn’t your neighbor, secondly because the guy in front of you was kinda really fucking cute, and lastly because he was wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants. His chest and face were covered in paint splatter – some dark color you couldn’t quite make out.

“Hi, are you my next-door neighbor? I’m Mike, I moved in like three days ago. I’ve been meaning to stop by!” He stuck out a hand, looked at it, and pulled it back. It, too, was covered in paint. “Right, sorry, just finishing up some painting. Didn’t realize the walls were so thin.”

His smile was so disarming that you were immediately annoyed by it. Nevertheless, you introduced yourself and went on your way. He kept his promise. Approximately. You could still hear the music, but it was a manageable volume, at least.

***

Now that you’d been introduced, Mike seemed to be everywhere. In the elevator right when the doors closed, making you those few seconds late to catch your bus to work. In the supermarket, buying the last of whatever you really needed or liked. Having the audacity to ask if he could borrow some eggs...

But what really seemed to cement your irritation was Blondie – not the band, but the girl you had seen leaving his place at 6 in the morning, when you’d ventured out for a double espresso after already having been kept up all night by... noises of the obvious kind. You’d wanted to slap that fucked-out smirk off his dumb face. And whatever dumb expression that woman had had on her stupid face, too. Not that you cared who he slept with. No, he could fuck whoever he damn well pleased, but he didn’t have to keep you up while doing it.

“Can you bone quieter?” you’d snapped at him when you ran into him that afternoon. He’d grinned. Bastard. And then he’d had the stones to promise he’d ‘try next time’. You honestly didn’t know which had bothered you more: ‘try’ or ‘next time’.

***

“Mike, for fuck’s sake!” Yes, it was the weekend. No, you didn’t have work in the morning. Yes, the movie was only a little loud, and you could technically elect to ignore it. So why were you in the hallway, in your pajamas, making a fuss at Mike’s door? You didn’t have time to think about it, because it wasn’t long before the door opened, and Mike appeared, with a beer in his hand. And wearing nothing but his underwear — boxer briefs with tiny pizza slices on them. Kinda cute. Impressive bu— alright, moving on!

“What?” he snapped.

“Well, you’re obviously dealing with something, so I’m gonna…”

“Got passed over for a promotion,” he muttered. “It’s no big deal.” You’d have believed him if it wasn’t so glaringly obvious that he was lying his ass off. “I’ll turn the TV down. Sorry.”

“Eh,” you said just before he could close the door, “you want some company?”

“Sure,” he said, opening the door again so you could walk in.

“Right, I just poured myself a glass of wine, so I’m gonna go get that, and you can” — you gestured at his mostly naked body — “put on some clothes?”

“Oh… Right, yeah,” Mike said, his ears quickly going red. It was adorable, especially combined with the way he looked at you as he bit his lip…

You retrieved your wine, and joined a now disappointingly appropriately dressed Mike at his place. It was dark – as in; most of the walls were painted a very dark color that you still couldn’t really put a name on because of the interesting lighting. It looked like Mike was singlehandedly responsible for keeping manufacturers of RGB LED-lights in business.

The interior was cozier than you’d expected from a single guy Mike’s age, but that was balanced out nicely by the pretty top-of-the-line gaming PC on the desk next to the couch, and the slightly-too-big-for-the-place TV on the wall opposite the couch.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Mike said, gesturing at the comfy looking couch. “You want snacks? I was going to make myself popcorn.” He lingered by the kitchen counter until the popcorn was done, and then hesitantly joined you on the couch. “Wanna watch a movie or something?” he asked carefully.

His Netflix suggestions were almost exclusively horror — typical — which you weren’t overly fond of — equally as typical.

“You don’t happen to have a blanket?” It was quite cold in the apartment, even though Mike didn’t seem to think so; he seemed quite comfortable in his t-shirt and sweats.

“Yeah, I do,” he said, hopping off the couch and making his way towards the bedroom, only to return moments later with a heap of fabric in his arms.

“Tell me this didn’t touch a naked Blondie,” you said before taking the blanket from him, glaring up at his beaming smile.

“Best I can do is tell you I washed it afterwards,” he answered. Fine. It’d have to do. “You’re going to have to share this, though.” Sneaky bastard! It was a pretty big blanket, but nowhere near big enough to stretch to both ends of the couch. “Come on, Sweetcheeks, I don’t bite!”

You didn’t believe that for a second.

You didn’t want to believe it.

***

“Oh my god, don’t go into the kitchen! Are you dumb?” you yelled at the TV when the characters in the movie made yet another extremely poor decision. Moments later, you hid your face in Mike’s t-shirt when the person in question got slashed. “All these people have a fucking death wish. Why is this fun again?”

“I mean,” Mike muttered, tightening the arm he had draped around you, “this is pretty nice, don’t you think?”

You snuggled closer to him. He was right; this wasn’t so bad. In fact, it wasn’t bad at all… His fingers trailed slow circles over your arm, moving down — over the blanket, much to your surprise — until his hand was at your waist.

“You’re making a move on me,” you noted dryly as you leaned forward to put your wine glass down on the coffee table.

“Absolutely,” Mike responded equally indifferently. “Do you, eh… want me to stop doing that?”

No.

                “Yeah.” What was wrong with you? “No?” Right. “Maybe?” Oh, for fuck’s sake!

                “Maybe?” Mike repeated, raising an eyebrow at you. “Can I help you make a decision?”

                You wanted to be mad at that sweet smile and those bright blue puppy-eyes that made a mess of your brain — and a second, undisclosed location — but the look on his face did spark the sudden urge to kiss him, which solved the problem you were having nicely.

Although… You could make him try a little harder, right?

“I hope that’s not all you’ve got,” you teased. Flirting wasn’t your specialty — neither was subtlety, so it was very nice that you were just openly discussing how your evening was going to go.

“Babe, I have like… two moves, and you’ve already seen half of them,” Mike replied with a goofy grin on his face. It was so adorable that you had to look away in order to not start giggling like an absolute buffoon.

“Well, what’s the other one?” you managed — barely — while forcing yourself to meet his eyes again.

You felt Mike’s hand on your cheek; he tilted your head up and pressed his lips to yours before you even truly realized what was going on.

It was a soft little peck on your lips — nothing like the tongue-heavy drool-fest you had imagined during those nights when his escapades with Blondie had kept you up with nothing else to do but fantasize about your neighbor’s obnoxiously loud sex-life.

In those fantasies, the sex hadn’t been any good.

There had been a few dreams, however — dreams, not fantasies. At least, that’s what you told yourself so you wouldn’t have to take any responsibility for them — in which Mike had been very skilled. The key difference between the two was the object of his desires. Because those dreams sure as fuck hadn’t been about Blondie.

“Good move,” you noted dryly, rolling your eyes as you watched that goofy grin spread over his face again. “Show me again?”

This time, you grabbed the back of his neck when his lips touched yours, and you kissed him back. Hard.

Your sudden outburst made him chuckle, and within seconds you felt his lips part and his tongue slide along your bottom lip, instantly taking you back to those dreams you'd had. A moan escaped you before you could stop it, and Mike took that to mean you were game for more.

He wasn't wrong.

Soon — very soon — he was pulling on your arm in an attempt to move you into a more practical position, and once you let him, he didn't waste a single second trying to get you under him.

His eagerness should have felt different than it did. Juvenile. Insulting, even. Instead, it made you feel giddy and desired, and it turned you on to no end.

His hands were as enthusiastic as his mouth, greedily exploring your body — your chest, in particular. This guy clearly had a preference.

You moaned into Mike's mouth as he roughly squeezed your breast through your sweater, relentlessly kneading the flesh hard enough to give you that faint edge of pain you didn't mind. That said, you could live without it.

“Easy,” you warned him, and at first your words fell on deaf ears. “Mikey. Down, boy.”

He lifted those gorgeous blue eyes of his to look at you. “Sorry,” he muttered, a faint blush covering his ears. “Pretty titties make me a little dumb.”

The… interesting compliment made you laugh louder than you had planned, but Mike didn't seem to mind. He just boldly pushed your sweater up until you saw no sense in keeping it on at all, and it ended up on the floor.

For a brief moment, Mike admired your bra — and by ‘admired' you meant ‘stared at it like he was losing his mind'. He spent more time with it than you'd expected, and his next move surprised you quite a bit, if you had to be honest; he moved his hands down to the waistband of the sweatpants you were wearing and pushed it down.

As soon as he saw that you were wearing matching panties, he got up on his knees and pulled your sweatpants off, before you even really realized what was going on. The string of profanities Mike muttered under his breath definitely helped you understand what was happening, and you chuckled.

“Like it?” you asked, reveling in the attention he was giving you.

“Sweetcheeks, are you for real?” he said, looking at you as if you were nuts while grabbing your hand and guiding it to his crotch. He was rock hard — which wasn't surprising at all, but flattering nonetheless.

Mike sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth when you ran your hands over his length. For a moment you thought that you liked what you felt just about as much as he liked what he saw — and then you looked at his face again, and you were fairly sure you'd never enjoy anything in life the way Mike was enjoying the view he had of you.

That said, the hard-on he was sporting was impressive, and you were more than happy to investigate further.

You sat up while grabbing the waistband of his sweatpants.

“Hmm,” you hummed softly. “Can I take a look, baby?”

“Oh, you can do a lot more than take a look, Sweetcheeks,” Mike laughed — but his laughter died down quickly when you pulled his pants down and wrapped your hand around his shaft without hesitation. “God damn, you're not wasting time. Love th—ah!”

You chuckled when his talking was replaced by an uncontrolled grunt as you bent your head and took the tip of his cock in your mouth.

As you'd already suspected, he liked it sloppy; every objectively disgusting sound you made was rewarded with sweet sounds of pleasure, every flick of your tongue made him squirm. Everything about it was fantastic. Mike was grateful and vocal, and no annoying head-shoving moves were made.

The downside was that he must have thought it was pretty fantastic, too, because it wasn't long before you got a somewhat disappointing warning.

“Fuck, Sweetcheeks, I'm gonna cum,” he rasped between heavy, ragged breaths while you just prayed the guy had enough stamina for a second round later on.

He seemed a little surprised that you didn't take your mouth off him after his warning, even going so far as to ask you if you'd heard him, to which you couldn't really respond with anything other than a vague nod and affirmative hum. Just moments later, a seductive look up at him became his undoing.

His sticky, salty release coated your tongue and you managed to surprise Mike again — and possibly even more than before — by swallowing.

“Hot.” The look in his eyes told you he wasn’t lying, but you didn’t get much time to analyze his expression, because he leaned in to kiss your neck, steadily making his way down, placing sloppy kisses on your skin as he moved down your neck.

You shivered when his fingers brushed past your nipple, which he picked up on. His hands lingered, toying with you through the fabric of your bra while his mouth continued its exploration of your body, all the way down your stomach, and you let out a frustrated moan in anticipation of his next move.

Impatiently, he pulled your underwear to the side and settled between your legs.

“Pretty,” he concluded after taking a look at you, and you felt your cheeks heat up. Before you could even reply, you felt his tongue against your skin as he started his next — again; sloppy — expedition of your body.

He was genuinely remarkably good at figuring out what you liked, and soon he found the perfect spot, getting everything right. Rhythm, pressure… everything.

When you moaned his name, he let out an adorable chuckle with a slightly cocky edge to it, but you couldn't be annoyed by the confidence. Good lord he deserved to be a little arrogant. The man had skills.

Of course, it was best not to dwell on the what, how and when of how he'd acquired those skills, and you tried your best to banish any thought that had anything to do with that sort of thing from your mind, the occasional infuriating image of Blondie flashing in your brain as he went along with his scheme to drive you absolutely crazy.

It wasn't long before your legs tensed up — he noticed and hummed appreciatively, looking up at you through the thick, long eyelashes that surrounded those incredible eyes. You only managed to lock eyes with him for a moment before a particularly well-placed flick of his tongue forced you to throw your head back and screw your eyes shut as he worked you over the edge.

Not long after, he got back on his knees, a cocky grin on his face. “You look pretty when you cum,” he noted. “Can't wait to do that again. But now…” He grabbed his cock and gave himself a few slow strokes. So he did have the stamina.

Slowly, clearly gauging your reaction, he teased you with the tip of his cock — laughing again when you whined softly.

“Please…” You barely managed more than a whisper, but he heard you just fine, taking his time to guide himself to your entrance, and pushing into you as slowly as his enthusiastic and horny self could manage.

You relished the feeling of your walls struggling ever so slightly to accommodate him. Through your eyelashes, you saw the corners of his mouth twitch up every so often. God, he was an insufferable jerk, but he was hot and good and adorable, so you forgave him.

After the first few slow thrusts, he grabbed one of your legs and lifted it until it was resting against his chest, a renewed sense of impatience radiating from him — it made you laugh; this guy really couldn't go slow for more than seven seconds before getting bored with it, could he?

“Come on,” you teased, “I thought you were going to fuck me?”

His mouth morphed into a silent O before widening into that smirk again. “Alright, alright,” he chuckled, “little missy's all talk, huh?”

“I can walk the walk,” you replied.

“Maybe not tomorrow, though,” he said with a (botched) wink. You gently nudged the side of his face with your leg by means of punishment for that horrible joke, but when he responded with a little bite, you groaned.

An even louder moan escaped you when he grabbed your hip with one hand and your thigh with the other, and thrust his hips forward. If this was what he had planned for you now, then maybe he was right after all…

His thrusts were fast and hard now, falling into a rhythm so fast he could barely keep up with it himself — which he soon discovered, causing him to stop.

Without hesitation, he rolled you over and dragged you onto your knees, immediately sliding his cock back into you from behind. It took you a moment to get the angle right, but once you did, you found yourself grasping for a pillow to bury your face in. You knew how thin these walls were.

Suddenly, you didn't find Blondie quite as annoying as before; there was no way to keep quiet.

“I really like this thong, Sweetcheeks,” Mike said while he absentmindedly played with the sheer fabric. He had good taste, you decided. You loved this set, too, and part of you found it really nice that he hadn't rushed to take it off — or tried to take it off at all.

It started to become clear to you that he was going to be able to keep this up way longer than you were, so you moved away, prompting Mike to make a very disappointed sound that made you feel so bad for him that you almost moved right back.

“Sit down,” you said sternly, and he listened immediately, that dumbass grin widening until he was smiling from ear to ear.

It was cute of him to think that he knew what was going to happen… Indeed, he seemed surprised when you didn't straddle him like he was expecting. Instead, you turned around.

“Sweetcheeks, I'm trying really hard to not actually cheer for myself right now,” he laughed when he realized what was going on. He reached for the remote and turned the TV off — and not just because of the particularly unromantic, bloody things that were going on in the movie, but also because the shiny black surface mimicked a mirror with almost annoying accuracy.

Despite your warning that you'd stop and leave him to his own devices if he let out a single peep, he couldn't help himself. “Woohoo,” he blurted out when you guided him to your entrance and sank down on his cock.

“What did I just tell you?” you laughed, slapping his knee to help make your point — it didn't make much of an impression.

“Sorry, the view is just… God, you're sexy,” he muttered before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“Alright, I forgive you,” you said with a smile, looking back over your shoulder to see Mike there, with a blissful smile on his face.

When you began to move, you couldn't help but think how you could easily skip your next leg day, because this was hard work, but the appreciative sounds that spilled near-continuously from Mike's gorgeous lips made it all worth your while.

That said, looking in your reflection in the TV, you had to admit it did look pretty hot — and that wasn't even the premium view of your ass Mike was currently getting.

Soon — although, according to your burning thighs, not quite soon enough — Mike’s fingers dug into your hips hard, and his breathing became erratic.

“Not gonna be long,” he whispered barely loud enough for you to hear. “Where… eh…?”

“Wherever you want, baby,” you said in your most seductive tone. It worked flawlessly; Mike let out a pained grunt before surprising you by pushing you off of him and dragging you onto the couch again.

He pulled your panties to the side, his eyes never leaving yours as he gave himself a few rough strokes that finished him off.

“Fuck, I mean… I think I know what the answer is going to be,” he sighed as he looked at the mess he'd made of your pussy, “but can I take a picture?”

You honestly had no clue what came over you, but you answered his question with a decisive nod. The feeling you got when he grabbed his phone was indescribable; filthy, sexy, but mostly taboo.

While you still reveled in that feeling, Mike surprised you again by pulling your panties back into place and running his fingers over the fabric again a few times, soaking it with his cum. You whined softly when he brushed past your swollen clit, sparking your desire all over again.

“You like that, Sweetcheeks?” he asked before pulling you into his side. “Let's see if we can mess up these pretty panties some more, huh?”   

He settled on a steady rhythm, leaving you gasping at all the different sensations you felt at once; the coarse texture of the fabric, the slick mix of your own arousal mixed with Mike's cum, the feeling of his teeth on your earlobe and his hot breath on your ear as he moaned and gasped every time you did… It wouldn't take him long to unravel you completely, and he knew that.

“Cum for me, pretty little thing,” he whispered when the final flick of your fingers pushed you over the edge, and you couldn't stifle a scream.

Mike showered you with compliments and sweet little nicknames, stroking your hair and covering both of you with the blanket. You just collapsed into his side and held onto him. ‘Good girl' was a personal favorite of yours, which was odd, because you'd never particularly cared for it before.

***

“Do you want to go get cleaned up?” he asked after you'd just spent a while hanging out on the couch. A faint sense of panic washed over you. Was he telling you it was time to go home? Couldn't you just stay with him a little while longer? Why did he want you to leave?

Luckily, Mike picked up the change in your mood. “After that, we can watch another movie?”

A sigh of relief escaped you, and you looked at the time. It wasn't late yet, you could definitely watch another movie. Maybe then you'd be ready to leave… But even that thought freaked you out a little.

“I'd love for you to stay the night, babe,” Mike whispered, picking up on your quiet panic again.

One quick shower later, you were back on the couch, nestled into Mike's side again. Neither of you had bothered to put on any clothes — it just felt right that way. This time, Mike had gone through the trouble of finding you both a romantic comedy that seemed fun — it was, although the plot was a little predictable and the acting wasn't great. It still beat something from the top 100 worst horror movies of all time by a landslide.

“We could do this again, maybe?” Mike said carefully after a while. “But maybe next time it can be a date?”

“What about Blondie?” you scoffed. It came out harsher than you'd intended, but he didn't seem to mind.

“She's just a hookup,” he answered plainly, “and I obviously won't be seeing her anymore if we're going to start dating.”

“Oh,” you replied. It wasn't clever, but it was the only thing you could come up with. “What if we don't work out?”

“I promise I’ll move out,” Mike laughed, and you joined him — despite that tiny part of you that was absolutely certain the next time either of you moved, it would be into the apartment next door…

[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.”

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

Okay that was part one❤️ let me know how you’re feeling about this guys!

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Part 2:

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Scrapbook: Chapter 4

Title: Less Than One Minute Old

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Mike x Black!OFC (Dimples)

Fandom: Hellraiser: Hellworld

Word Count: 2.6K

Summary: A collection of moments with Mike and Daisy (Dimples).

Chapter Summary: The pregnancy and delivery of Mikey and Dimples' daughter.

Warnings: pregnant sex, creampie, fainting (again)

A/N: As a person who has never birthed children, I had to research this stuff. And it cemented my wish to never give birth. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 

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“So, you see right here? That little spot? That is your baby,” The doctor pushes a few buttons, taking a few measurements, “And if we move just slightly, you see that pulsating?”

“What is that?” Mike was genuinely confused about what he was looking at, but also genuinely interested in absorbing as much information as he could about his teeny-weeny offspring.

“That is your baby’s heartbeat. It seems you are just about 7 weeks along, which is in line with your missed period. Your baby right now is about the size of a blueberry.” 

“Isn’t there a fruit for every week? I feel like I read that and then I got super hungry so I stopped reading,” Dimples is in full-swing swooning over the tiny life growing inside her, but food is her main focus most of the time.

“Fruits and vegetables. Your baby will go from where it is now at the blueberry stage to about the size of a sweet potato at your next appointment, then to about the size of a pumpkin when you’re at full gestation. But, let’s take it slow and enjoy your little blueberry for now, Mom and Dad. We’ll get you a printout of your sonogram and you can go ahead and get dressed now.” The doctor pats Dimples’ arm and shakes Mike’s hand before exiting the room.

Helping her off of the exam table, Mike can’t help but let his hand linger on Dimples’ tummy. She rubs his hand and looks up at his face. Unshed tears line his eyes and her heart swells as she touches a hand to his cheek.

“It’s all just hitting me now that you are carrying a life inside you. You’re carrying my baby, and I’ve never been more in love with you, Dimples.” Mike sniffs, a tear escaping when he blinks and she wipes it away.

“My sweet husband. Just keep that thought in your head when I’m cursing you out in the delivery room, ok?” Dimples laughs and pulls him down for a kiss.

She dresses and they go to the checkout window in the front lobby. The nurse behind the window holds their sonogram and Mikey takes it, admiring the little blob in the picture.

“Aw, you’ve got that ‘First-Time Dad’ look in your eye. I know it when I see it,” The nurse says, head tilted and smiling at him, “Just remember to take care of Mom and you’ll do well. We’ll see you in a few months at your 20-week appointment.”

“He’s doing an amazing job so far,” Dimples links their hands together, lacing their fingers, “We’ll see you soon.” She smiles up at Mike who is still looking at the sonogram, pushing on his shoulder to get him to move out of the office.

He gets the hint and starts to walk out, walking in front of her so he can hold the door open. She can feel heat rise to her cheeks, loving how her husband is doting on her. He helps her into the car and buckles her seatbelt. He walks around the front of the car, getting into the driver’s seat. Pulling out slowly into traffic, he looks over to Dimples who is now looking at the sonogram with a slight glow about her.

Throughout the first trimester, Dimples allows Mike to treat her like a porcelain figurine. The second trimester is a bit different. As soon as 13 weeks hit, Dimples puts her foot down.

“Ok, Mikey. We need to talk. I love how you treat me as though I am so precious and so delicate and so sweet. I love you for that, but baby, I need my goofy husband back. I need you to honk my boob as you walk by. I need you to let me make my own lunches when I want to. And please, for the love of all things good and sacred, I need you to tell me you wanna fuck me. Tell me I’m desirable and not just your baby’s apartment, ya know? I’m finally over my morning sickness and I just wanna ride you or be on my hands and knees in front of you. Just something before I go insane.” Dimples feels winded after her soliloquy and flops down on the nearest surface, looking back up at Mike.

“I guess I have been a little nervous to bring up sex. You were just so sick all the time. I just kinda didn’t want to bother you with that. But, I mean, if you’re really in the mood to fool around and see what we can get into then I am so game, Dimples.” He has been moving over to where she is sitting and stops in front of her. 

When she reaches up to unbuckle his belt, his first instinct is to stop her but he allows her to take what she needs. The moment her hand wraps around him, his knees almost buckle. It’s been months and the soft flesh of her palm is like Heaven. When her tongue darts out on the underside of his dick, he groans.

“Fuck, Dimples, that feels so good,” He says, putting one hand behind her head to guide her back and forth. When she moans at the encouragement, it rolls through his erection. “Not gonna last much longer if you keep this up, baby.”

Dimples pulls back, a line of saliva connecting them still before she uses it to pump him a few more times. She stands with the help of Mikey, guiding him to the bedroom by holding his dick. Undressing quickly, she gets on all fours on the bed and he doesn’t waste time getting behind her and lining himself up.

The moment he pushes in, she hisses at the intrusion. It’s been long enough that he makes her feel fuller than ever. Allowing her to get used to his girth, he thrust shallowly for a bit until he can’t take it anymore and begins to put in some serious work. He reaches down between her legs and rolls her clit between his fingers until her walls flutter around him. Pulling out, he lays down next to her and helps her straddle him.

“Fuck,” Mike rasps when she slides down his length, his hands going to her hips, “You look so perfect right now, Dimples.”

“I feel perfect, Mikey,” She sighs, taking one of his hands and putting it on her belly while she laces her fingers with the other hand, “Fuck, right there…I’m gonna, gonna…” Her words die on her lips as another orgasm rumbles through her.

“Mmmm, that’s my sweet girl,” He grunts, pulling out and then maneuvering Dimples to her back, “You just relax and I’ll take care of everything, baby.” Placing her thighs around his hips, he enters her again swiftly. Leaning down to kiss her, his hands massage her slightly weightier breasts to elicit his favorite sound out of his wife. “Fuck, those sweet little moans are gonna do me in soon, Dimples.”

“Just a little longer, please Mikey? I can feel it, I’m so close.” She locks her legs around him and puts a hand between them to stimulate her nub but Mike stops her and uses his hand. Within moments, her breathing speeds up and she is quivering around him enough to make him follow her soon after.

He rests in the crook of her neck, panting out breaths that tickle her skin. Her giggles accidentally push him out and he whimpers before moving to lie next to her. Pulling her close, he kisses her neck and traces small patterns across her abdomen.

“So, you were really horny for me, huh?” Mike blurts, a quiet chuckle shaking the both of them.

“OMG Mikey shut up! You’re not allowed to make me laugh this hard when you’re cum is still leaking out of me. It feels weird.” She laughs so hard that she hiccups for the next few minutes.

They both agree that they deeply underestimated pregnant sex.

At Dimples’ 20-week checkup, they find out they are having a little girl. Dimples is excited, but Mikey? He is over the moon. He immediately starts referring to the baby as “Honey”, buying any and everything in the color pink for the baby. Something about knowing the sex of the baby pushed him into panic mode.

He suddenly worried about her starting to date, moving out to go to college, and getting married. He was spiraling fast, and the baby hadn’t even arrived.

When Dimples reminds him that she wasn’t due for another 20 weeks, he seemed to calm down. But when it comes down to it, she kinda loved that he was ready to prepare for everything. It was so cute to watch a Girl Dad in his element.

His element just happened to be apprehension. He also had a very specific fear show up when he felt the baby kick for the first time at about 21 weeks. He had begun having dreams that the baby would be hurt if he continued having sex with her.

Needless to say, Dimples yelled at him for not understanding anatomy. She also had to point out that his penis would not be able to even reach halfway to where the baby is. When he replied by asking if she thought his dick was small, she threw her hands up in defeat.

The next three months are spent convincing Mike that he had a huge dick (which wasn’t untrue) and also that he wouldn’t hurt the baby during sex but even then he would only have sex when she said the baby was sleeping. 

Once he saw the baby’s little footprint go across Dimples’ belly, he swore off sex until the baby was born. Luckily, she was due in another month so she could handle the wait. For now, at least.

At their baby shower, Mikey and Dimples were overloaded with gifts. Clothing, blankets, tiny hangers for the baby’s closet, toys, diapers, more diapers, so many diapers they were starting to worry. Auntie Erika had taken over planning everything. There were games, pink drinks, and delicious pink cupcakes that she made. 

She even found a cute little tiara for Dimples to wear since the theme of the shower was royalty. Little pink rattles and baby bottles filled with pink candies were given as favors to all the guests. Mike even enjoyed talking with Walter and Sy about what to expect in the coming months. 

What no one would expect was Dimples going into labor while they were discussing when everyone thought the baby would come. What started as a strong cramp in her lower abdomen turned into a rush of pressure releasing as her water broke. Out of the corner of his eye, Mike saw the wet spot on the rug and rushed over to see what was spilled. As he got closer, he noticed his wife holding her stomach and turning around to look at him.

“Dimples?” He reached out to her, putting a hand over hers, “Did your…”

“...water just break? Oh yeah, this baby is coming right now.” She tried to remain calm as she saw Mike start to sway. 

“She’s not due for another month!” Mike squeaked out.

“You want me to tell her that and hope she changes her mind or can we go to the hospital?”

As luck would have it, Sy was able to keep Mike from losing his shit while Walter helped Dimples stay upright. Erika helped to usher everyone out of the party before promising she would meet everyone at the hospital.

Sy and Mike managed to grab the overnight bag, the baby bag, the stroller, the car seat, and some extra clothing and blankets. Walter drove Dimples to the hospital and managed to hold her hand while she did breathing exercises. As much as Mikey looked and sounded like his father, they were miles apart when it came to the ability to keep their cool.

When Mikey made it to the hospital, he and Walter swapped spots. Even though Mikey was terrified to see his wife hooked up to the heart monitor and blood pressure machine, he didn’t let it show too much. Instead, he opted to focus on keeping her comfortable. From feeding her ice chips to letting her curse him out to bringing in Erika to help save the day, Mike did his best to try and keep Dimples happy.

Until the doctor came into the room with the needle for the Epidural. Mike’s brain decided that was too much to handle. As his eyes rolled back in his head, he slumped to the floor and Erika had a coughing fit after laughing so hard at his expense. Walter and Sy exchanged glances as Mike was checked over by a nurse.

When the coast is clear and the doctor and the nurses are out of the room, Sy slaps Mike awake and gives him a good talking to as Walter laughs, shaking his head.

After six hours of labor, Aisha “Honey” Marshall was born at 5 lb 5 oz and 18 inches long. Mike cut the umbilical cord. He was so proud that he didn’t faint at the sight of seeing his daughter covered in all that goo. All he saw was a beautiful and wiggly little girl with strong lungs and he fell in love harder than he has ever fallen.

When she was laid across her mother’s chest, there wasn’t a dry eye in the entire room. Mike sniffled, Dimples sobbed, Erika bawled, and even Walter and Sy cleared their throats a bit before turning away to wipe at their eyes. To be fair, Walter never thought he would be a grandfather and Sy was just named godfather to Honey.

When Mike goes out to the waiting room to let everyone know the baby was born, he was full of smiles and blurry vision as he hugged his family. He was surprised when his Mom hugged him and kissed his face, she hasn’t looked at him like that since he was a kid. He held on a little tighter with that hug before accepting hugs from everyone else.

He brings his Mom and Aunt Danette to meet Honey first. His little cousin Cherie complains until Nettie sneaks her in to see the new baby. Pretty soon, the entire family is standing together as a nurse takes their photo with the tiny bundle of joy. 

Grandpa Gus is now a great-grandfather and he couldn’t be happier. Mike makes sure to snap a few pictures of him holding his great-granddaughter. While the truth remains that Gus wasn’t exactly the best father, he makes up for it by being a better grandparent and great-grandparent. 

When Mike and Dimples are finally alone with their daughter, they have a chance to just look at her. Without each other, they couldn’t have done this. Granted, Mike has fainted twice in the past eight or so months but he would faint a million times to be able to see this little girl’s face. While Dimples gets to rest after feeding Honey, Mike sits up during most of the night just watching her. Her little hand wraps around his finger and he can’t believe the amount of love that flows through him.

Before he finally gets to sleep that night, he takes a selfie with both of his sleeping girls in the background and sets it as his phone’s wallpaper. 

Chapter 5

A/N: The song for this chapter is Isn’t She Lovely by Stevie Wonder. Also, “Aisha” is Stevie Wonder’s daughter’s name and I needed a birthname for Honey even though I won’t use it as much lol.

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