About Me: I am Lyksa, 22 and a student, so except for finals season, I have alot of free time ✨ I'm writing and reading Fanfics since I was 12, but I had a long break, and I've really been back into it for a few months now.
I write about the Valorant agents, and my requests are open! I would love to bring your ideas to life through my writing. ✨
I was inspired by the classic ABC headcanons, but I also added some of my own categories.
A= Affection (How does he show his love?)
Miks shows of affection by showing that he cares about you. When you are feeling down, he is there for you and tries to make you feel better. Thats how he shows that he likes you and that you are important to him.
B = Body part (his favorite body part)
I think Miks is an ass and thighs guy. He likes grabbing them and just holding them, even in non-sexual contexts. He just likes having his hands on you whenever he can.
C = Comfort
Miks is actually really good at comforting you. He would pull you into his arms and just let you stay there for as long as you need. He cheers you up and tries to make you laugh.
D = Dates
I don’t think Miks is really into fancy dates. He would rather take you somewhere fun, go to a concert, get food somewhere at night or just walk around the city together. At the end of the Date you would end up in a park, maybe with a bottle of wine or some beer, watching the stars.
E = Emotions
He feels his emotions deeply, and he lets himself feel them strongly. He is a big fan of the idea that guys can be sad too, and he isn’t afraid of showing his emotions. He doesn’t think that being emotional makes him weak.
F = favorite position
reversed Cowgirl, he loves seeing your ass and he loves to hold you, while you ride him.
G = Guilty pleasures
I think Miks has some pretty random guilty pleasures. Like watching reality TV or listening to music that he would never admit he actually likes.
H = Hair
Thick brown locks with a low fade cut. His body hair is the same color and about the same thickness as the hair on his head. I would say he is pretty hairy overall. He doesn’t shave down there, but sometimes, if he feels like it, he might trim it down a little.
I = Intimacy
For Miks, intimacy isn’t always about sex. I think he really values those quiet moments where you’re just lying together, talking about random things or not talking at all. Being able to be completely comfortable around you means a lot to him.
J = Jealousy
He is pretty chill about it and doesn’t get jealous that easily. He’s pretty confident in himself and in your relationship. But when he does get jealous, he will tell you.
K = Kink
Not really a kink directly, but I think he really likes oral sex, both giving and receiving. I also think he likes the thrill of doing things in public places where you could potentially get caught
L = location
I think Miks is a city person. He likes being somewhere where there is always something going on, especially at night. But I also think he has a few places where he likes to just sit and chill, away from everyone else. For sex, I think at night on a field or in the ocean.
M = Music
I just put this in here because I can totally see Miks absolutely EATING UP Charli xcx’s music, especially brat.
N = nights out
When he goes clubbing with you and your friends, he likes to make sure everyone in the group feels good and safe. He likes to get a little tipsy and sometimes even drinks a little more than that. Because he is always down for a fun time with his friends.
O = Outfits
He pays close attention to how his outfits look, it’s important to him that his fits reflect his personality. He often wears loose, baggy jeans, baggy is generally his style. Though sometimes he also wears tight muscle shirts.
P = Private life (how is/was he outside the Protocol)
I saw another post saying Miks would be a pothead, and I 100% agree. Before joining the Protocol, I can totally see him smoking maybe 2–3 times a week. Since joining the Protocol, though, it has become pretty rare for him. Outside of that, I see him as someone who loves going clubbing or to concerts, hanging out with his friends and just making stupid little music tracks together for fun.
Q = Quirks
He has a lot of little habits that you eventually start noticing. Like making random noises, humming songs under his breath or tapping his fingers along to music. I also think, that he is in someway, always moving his body.
R = Room
I don’t think his room is super clean, but it’s not completely messy either. There are probably clothes lying around and some kind of music equipment and random stuff. His Room is also pretty cosy, posters hanging on the walls and cozy lights.
S = Sleep
He probably falls asleep pretty quickly when he is comfortable. He also likes having some kind of background noise, especially music. He likes sleeping close to you, but he probably moves around a lot in his sleep.
T = Teasing
Miks loves teasing you. He makes little comments just to get a reaction out of you and then acts completely innocent when you call him out.
U = Upset
When Miks is upset, he usually needs some time before he wants to talk about it. He doesn’t like taking his frustration out on other people, so he might go quiet or keep to himself for a while. But once he’s ready, he will talk with you.
V = Volume
Miks is not a quiet person. He talks pretty loudly, especially when he’s excited about something or telling a story. Sex with him, isn't quiet either, he lets you hear it when likes it
W = wild card (a random headcanon)
He thought about getting tattoos and/or piercings but was afraid, that he would change his mind to quickly.
X = X-rated
I think he has a pretty high sex drive and is very comfortable talking about sex. He isn’t embarrassed about telling you what he likes, and he also wants to know what you like. He’s very much into making sure you’re both having a good time.
Y = you (what he like in a partner)
I think Miks likes someone who can match his energy but also knows when to calm him down. He likes confidence and someone who isn’t afraid to tease him back. He also really values someone who is open about their feelings and doesn’t play stupid games with him. Basically, he wants someone who can be his partner but also his best friend.
While sucking him off you rub your wet pussy onto his big black boots. "Yeah, don't stop grinding on my boot you stupid slut."
Him calling you a slut, motivates you somehow even more. You have never thought, that that golden retriever, could be use a word like that, it really surprised you, but what surprised you even more is, how turned on you get, when he is calling you that.
You take him deeper into your throat and he growls. "yes.. hm you like it, when I call you that, yes? hmm.. are you my cute little slut?" He grabs your hair and moves your head the way he needs it.
For a moment, you pull your head back, your lips are wet and your eyes are glistening. You look up at him. "Yes, please call me that" you say, biting your lip.
You can see him briefly lose his composure. Then, without a word, he takes your head in his hands and presses you back against his cock. "you are doing so good" As you keep sucking him off, you rub your wet pussy against his boot. Your moans are swallowed by his cock. The heat building in your lower abdomen as you take him deep into your throat and kneel in front of him. Giving him so much pleasure, while all you can to is just rub yourself against him.
|PWP, blow jobs, Party, Rave, Alcohol, Drunken Confessions, Public Setting, Semi-Public Sex
The Protocol headquarters felt nothing like its usual self.
Instead of quiet hallways and the distant hum of equipment, the entire building pulsed with heavy bass that rattled the walls. Colorful lights swept across the lounge, now packed with agents who had traded tactical gear for a rare night of music and dancing. Someone had somehow convinced Brimstone to let the celebration happen. Meanwhile, the center of attention stood behind the DJ booth.
Miks looked completely at home, effortlessly mixing tracks while the crowd cheered every transition. Every now and then he'd raise a hand, encouraging even more people onto the dance floor, and somehow they always listened.
You had tried telling yourself you were only watching because he was putting on a good show. That excuse stopped working after the fifth time your eyes wandered back to him. As if sensing it, he glanced up from the controls. The corner of his mouth curled into a smirk before he shot you a quick wink.
Heat crept into your face, and you immediately looked away, pretending to be far more interested in the drink in your Hand and the other agents you Dance with than the man across the room.
Anyone with functioning eyes could tell there was something going on between the two of you. The lingering stares, the playful teasing, the way conversations always seemed to end with one of you searching for the other. It had been like that for weeks. Neither of you had ever done anything about it.
But after a few drinks, the music humming through your veins, and watching Miks thrive under the flashing lights, that hesitation didn't feel nearly as impossible to overcome anymore.
Taking a deep breath, you gather every ounce of confidence you have left and make my way toward Miks.
He stands behind the elevated DJ booth, towering above the dance floor. The room is so dark that the flashing lights only catch pieces of him at a time, a glimpse of his hands over the controls, the outline of his face, the faint curve of a smile before he's swallowed by the darkness again.
Carefully, you climb onto the platform, your steps just a little unsteady from the drinks. Once you reach him, you slip in beside him and casually rest your arm across his shoulder, letting your body sway to the rhythm of the music he is mixing.
The bass pounds through the floor as Miks feels your touch. His fingers freeze for half a beat on the mixer before he recovers, lips curling into a grin under his headphones. He doesn’t look at you right away, but his shoulder relaxes into your arm like it belongs there. And he leans in. Close enough that you catch the faint scent of energy drink and mint gum. The music pulses around you both, deep synths layered with a pulsing rhythm line, the kind designed to make hearts race.
Then he finally turns to face you, he reaches up slowly and takes another pair of headphones, attached to his board and holds it out to you
Without hesitation, you take the headphones and put it on. The music surges through the headphone, crisp, like a private concert just for you two. Miks watches your face as the bassline hits again.
Your hips sway naturally now loose and fluid to his beat and damn, it’s hot.
He bites his lower lip without thinking, then does something reckless, he reaches over with one Hand hovering over your waist. Teasing.
When you move your hips, you can feel his hand hovering dangerously close to your waist. Occasionally, his fingertips brush against the exposed skin of yours, sending a quiet thrill through you. Your outfit doesn't cover much of you. A fitted black lace crop top with a deep neckline, tiny black shorts that barely cover your booty, chunky boots, and a few silver chains resting around your neck. Your hair hangs loose, slightly damp and sticking to your skin from the heat of the room.
Reaching into the pocket of your shorts, you pull out two tiny bottles of liquor you have hidden earlier. Holding one out toward Miks with a grin, you keep the other for yourself.
His eyes flick from the bottle, to your lips and then back.
No words. Just a slow, crooked smile, the kind that means "Oh hell yes". He takes the shot with two fingers, clinking it gently against yours, then he downs it in one smooth Motion, head tilting back slightly, throat working under golden stage lights.
When he lowers his arm again? His pupils are blown wide. The alcohol hits fast and so does his confidence. Fueled by the adrenaline of the loud music and the alcohol coursing through his veins, he leans forward toward you, his eyes half-closed. You feel that rush too, so you lean in and press your lips against his.
The kiss hits like a surprise drop in the beat, sudden, loud, perfect.
Miks freezes for half a second, brain short circuiting from-her lips are on mine—before melting into it.
His hands fly up, one cupping your jaw, warm and firm, the other sliding to the back of your neck through those sweaty strands of hair. He kisses you hard, a mix of pent up tension and drunk courage and his mouth tastes like minty shots and electric energy.
Then, the current track starts fading out.
Miks lets out a quiet, frustrated groan against your lips before pulling back, his forehead lingering against yours for just a second longer than necessary.
"You've got the worst timing," he mutters with a breathless laugh, flashing you an apologetic grin before turning back toward the mixer. His fingers scramble over the controls, desperately trying to save the transition while the corners of his mouth refuse to stop curling into a smile.
While Miks focused on his DJ stuff, an idea slowly crept into your mind. Standing beside him suddenly didn't feel like enough.
You stepped a little closer, your fingertips cautiously brushing along his forearm as he adjusted the controls. The touch was light enough to be accidental, yet deliberate enough for him to notice. He didn't pull away. Encouraged, you let your hand linger before slowly tracing it higher, over the firm line of his bicep, the fabric of his fitted black shirt warm beneath your fingertips.
Still, he didn't stop you. A smile tugged at your lips.
Moving behind him just enough to stay out of his way, you slipped one arm loosely around him. Your hand caressing over his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing as the bass continued to pulse through the booth.
Miks inhaled sharply, his concentration wavering for the briefest moment. His hands never left the mixer, but the small smile spreading across his face gave him away completely.
"So this is your way of distracting me?" he asked with a quiet chuckle, stealing a quick glance over his shoulder before returning his attention to the music.
The playful grin you gave him was answer enough. "I've got an even better idea, a way to distract you even more"
Your hands move slowly down, till they reach the waistband of his loose pants. And he nearly drops the headphones. You hear him choke on a breath, his head looking behind him so fast you half expect whiplash.
But when you look up at him? He's grinning. A wicked, reckless, absolutely shameless grin that says "oh you're in for it now". So you give him your best smirk in return and take your sweet ass time unbuttoning and unzipping.
He tried to keep his focus where it belonged. One hand adjusted the mixer while the other queued up the next track, his head subtly bobbing to keep time as the music flowed seamlessly from one beat to the next.
"concentrate miks" you called over the pounding music, practically shouting just to be heard.
Then another idea came to your mind. You glanced around the DJ booth, making sure there was enough space and if you could be seen, if you slip under the pult.
The thought alone sent a jolt of adrenaline through you, and judging by the dark, hungry look in Miks's eyes, he was thinking the exact same thing.
Without hesitation, you dropped to your knees in front of him, the bass still vibrating through the floor as you ducked beneath the table. For a moment, the world narrowed to the enclosed space beneath the booth, the muffled pulse of the crowd. Looking up, you could see Miks towering over you, one hand braced against the table as he peered down at you with pure awe.
Slowly, you reached for the waistband of his boxer briefs, tugging them just enough to free him. Your tongue traced over your lips as you took him into your mouth, and the deep groan that escaped Miks's throat was almost lost beneath the heavy bassline.
His fingers clenched around the edge of the DJ table, knuckles white as he struggled to keep himself upright. His hips rolled forward instinctively, a desperate, shaky motion as he tried to maintain some semblance of control. The crowd was oblivious, still lost in the music, while right here, beneath the flashing lights, Miks was completely undone by you.
His breath hitched when you took him deeper, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat.
It became harder and harder for him to focus on the music. Instead of constantly tweaking the mix like he normally would, he found himself letting the tracks play out on their own, making only the occasional adjustment whenever it was absolutely necessary.
He bites his lower lip, Hard enough that it might leave a mark later, but silently, like he's trying to keep any sound from escaping over the music pounding through speakers around them.
The DJ booth blocks most sightlines, but someone glancing up might see his shoulders rise and fall faster than before. They’d notice how still Miks is now, no moving head with beats anymore. Just frozen focus on what's happening under there.
His free Hand flies down, gripping your hair. His hips buck again, deeper this time, a choked gasp leaving his lips. He tries to mumble your name, but the bass swallows it whole.
You just hollow out your cheeks and suck harder, rolling your tongue in a way that makes his whole body tremble. For a second, he's completely lost. The world outside the booth doesn't exist. There's only you and him and the thumping of his own heart in his ears.
You’re not just giving him head, you’re syncing it with the music. Each bob of your mouth matches the bassline’s pulse: Down on a heavy drop.
Up as synths rise. Like you're part of his set now, rhythm, flow, perfect harmony. And Miks? He’s losing his mind in silence.
No one sees anything below deck level, the crowd dances blindly to beats they think are flawless, while their favorite DJ is barely holding it together above them.
He looks down at you, and the world outside this booth might as well have burned to the ground. He sees your lips stretched around him, the glisten of saliva, and the dark, possessive hunger in your eyes. And that's it.
That's the last thread of his composure snapping.
With a groan that he tries to muffle with the back of his hand, Miks cums. Hot and sudden, flooding your mouth. His body tenses, thighs trembling, and for a split second, you think he’s going to collapse right there.
When he finally pulls back, you release him slowly, licking your lips clean with a smirk.
You stay under the table for a moment longer, watching as he takes a deep, shuddering breath, trying to steady himself. His hands return to the mixer, but they're shaking, and he fumbles with the knobs more than once before he finally gets the next track started.
When you finally crawl out from under the table, with the back of your hand you wipes your mouth clean. Your hair was a complete mess, and anyone who looked at you closely could probably figure out what exactly you’ve just been doing. He looks at you, his pupils still blown wide, a mixture of awe and disbelief on his face.
He doesn't say a word. Instead, he grabs your wrist and pulls you close, his other hand tangling in your hair as he crushes his lips against yours in a hungry, desperate kiss. It's not a slow, gentle kiss, it's a "holy shit you just did that in front of everyone" kind of kiss. He can probably taste himself on your tongue, and it only seems to fuel him more.
"You know," he says with a laugh, still trying to catch his breath, "I don't think I'll ever survive another set if you're anywhere near the booth."
You grin. "Good."
He shakes his head. "Next time, we're finding somewhere a little more private."
