#fem!oc

[zephyrwritesthings]

Hands

[simonriley09]

Praise - Konig [Kinktober Day 23]

TW: NSFW, Fem! Reader, Sex, Praise, MDNI.

You feel König slowly insert his huge, fat cock into you, Praising at how well you take him. "So gut maus... So verdammt gut." You cant help but squeeze around the tip, making him groan. "Ja.. keep squeezing me like that and i might have to cum inside Liebling."

He slides half his dick in making you squeeze tighter, He thinks you might push him out with how tightly you're squeezing, Maus. Only half his cock is inside you but it already feels like it's hitting the back of your throat, it makes you wanna scream but the only thing that comes out is a breathy whine. König grins at your whine, slipping an inch deeper which makes you suck in a sharp breath and claw at his shoulder blades, Toes curling from the pressure. He finally bottoms out with a low groan, looking down at your bulging belly. "Such a good girl... taking me so well." "Gonna be so good for me, right maus? Gonna be a good girl?" He ends his words with a sharp thrust against your cervix, causing you to cry out, a loud moan escaping your lips. "So loud.. make more noise for me i love it." His hips rolled into yours, stuffing his fat dick into your cunny perfectly. Molding you wet, velvety walls into the shape of his dick. Your nails dug deeper into his back as he started thrusting faster, One of his hands suddenly pushing down on the bulge on your belly until you squirt all over him. Causing the bedsheets and his pubes to be covered in your slick. "Gut.... sehr gut, maus." He continues thrusting through your orgasm before pulling out and cumming all over your belly with a groan.

[targaryenlight]

The Stag and the Lioness

Pairing: Lyonel Baratheon x Fem! Wife! Lannister!

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary: A moment between you and your husband before the first joust of the Ashford tournament.

Warnings: NSFW, Mention of sex, oral (male receiving), age gap.

English is not my first language.

Marriage had always been something that made you anxious. You knew you would have to leave Casterly Rock one day to fulfill your duty, but the part that caused you the most dread was: who would your husband be?

Would he be an old man? Would he be cruel?

You always prayed that he wouldn't be, though you knew you couldn't expect much. You hoped, at the very least, for a husband who would treat you decently.

At twenty, you were betrothed to Lyonel Baratheon. He was a few years older, but not nearly as old as your father, which was a relief.

The arrangement was made to seal an alliance between your houses, something that benefited both sides. Your father needed to arrange a marriage for you; he had waited a long time and knew the hour had come.

The wedding took place one moon later. It was lavish; your dress was imported directly from Myr, crafted from the finest fabrics the city could offer. The wedding feast was boisterous, but you were satisfied. Your husband was a handsome man, with black hair beginning to gray and a tall, powerful frame.

In time, you learned to love Storm's End; you learned to appreciate the rain, especially for sleeping at night. Your husband treated you very well, spoiling you with jewels and dresses. He taught you to enjoy riding so you could gallop through the woods near the castle, and he taught you to drink—at least as much as was acceptable for a lady.

But what you liked most was that he taught you how to ride him; you enjoyed that more than riding horses. He taught you how to give him pleasure with your mouth, and he showed you how good he was with his tongue between your legs.

It didn't take long for you to become pregnant. Your first son was born just eleven moons after the wedding: a strong boy who looked just like his father. The second was born five moons ago; he resembled Lyonel but had your blonde hair.

Two years had passed since the wedding, and you were reminiscing while bathing and watching your husband lying on the bed; he had been asleep for hours. You were both attending the Tourney of Ashford. Last night, your husband had drunk and danced, and today he continued drinking and participating in tourney activities, like the tug-of-war, which his team won.

Right after eating, you brought him back to lie down, as he was set to participate in the first joust happening tonight. Your maid placed your robe on a chair and handed you a towel. You dried yourself quickly, put on the robe, and sat down so the maid could brush your wet hair.

"Does my lady need anything else?" your maid asked while applying oil to your hair.

"Change the bathwater and bring a pitcher of water. My lord will wake soon."

"Yes, my lady."

Once your maid had everything ready, you sat on the edge of the bed beside your still-sleeping husband. You decided to intervene, running your hand gently over his face.

"Wake up, my dear..." you said in a sweet voice.

Slowly, your husband began to stir from his sleep with a scowl; he likely had a headache from the drink.

"My head hurts," he said, propping himself up on his elbows.

"I know, but I’ve already taken care of everything."

Your husband sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. He placed his hand on your face, caressing it, and you leaned your forehead against his.

"Why don't you take a bath? You'll feel better..."

You helped him with his bath while he told you about last night and what he did after you had retired to your tent to rest. When he finished, he sat on the bed with a towel wrapped around his waist to cover himself, and you gave him a cup of water.

"Your wine must be balanced with water," was something you always told him.

While he drank the water, you sat in his lap, brushing the wet hair from his forehead, and he placed his free hand on your waist.

"Are you nervous for the joust tonight?"

"No."

"I’m anxious to see you in your armor."

"You can help me put it on—and take it off later."

"That pleases me greatly," you said, beginning to kiss his neck.

Your husband set the cup on the small table near the bed and tried to position you facing him, with your thighs straddling him. He wanted to show you how hard he was, but you didn't let him. He gave you a confused look.

"Only if you win."

He laughed. "No need to doubt, I will win."

"But... I think I could give you something for luck."

"What is it?"

You climbed off his lap and knelt in front of him, never breaking eye contact. He let out a sigh when you placed your hand on the towel, and then he stood just enough to toss the towel aside.

"Eager, my love?"

"I told you once that having you give me pleasure with your mouth is probably my second favorite thing."

You placed your hand on his member; it was already hard. Even after two years of marriage, you were always impressed by the size; it was large and thick, something he took great pride in.

Your hand began slow up-and-down motions, and he threw his head back, letting out sighs.

"Don't torture me." He was always an impatient man when it came to sex.

"All in good time, my love," you said, continuing the movements. Shortly after, you gave a small kiss to the head of his penis; it was hot.

You gave a satisfied little smile and took him into your mouth. Because of the size, you could take in less than half.

"You know you can do better than that," Lyonel said, gripping a section of your hair.

He took the opportunity to dictate the rhythm. It made you gag, but he wasn't so rough as to hurt you. You placed your hands on his thighs for balance and focused on your task.

"I’m close." He never lasted long when it came to you using your mouth. He was letting out moans, and then you deepened your movements; you could feel him hitting the back of your throat.

Saliva mixed with his fluid leaked from the corners of your mouth, wetting him completely. You knew he was going to come when he let out a groan and threw his head back once more. The warm, thick jets of spent seed filled your throat. You pulled away from him, watching the small amount that spilled onto his body. He looked at you.

"Show me." You opened your mouth, showing that you had swallowed everything, and then gave a satisfied smile.

Lyonel pulled you by the neck—not brutally, he would never hurt you—bringing you inches from his face.

"Thank you for your favor, my love." He pulled you into a heated kiss, seeking entrance for his tongue, and you yielded. After a few seconds, you pulled away.

"The real favor comes after you win the joust, my dear..." you said, sitting in his lap and resting your head on his neck.

[jinxedmuse]

orca, — Adrian Chase or Vigilante

in which: you’re the new vet in town, and adrian has devised a plan to make you his. what he doesn’t know is, you’re just as sadistic as he is.

or two strangers, matching each other's freak.

wtk: Adrian Chase has ASPD. he "sucks" at sex but that’s the point, yaps you through it, strangers to fucking/lovers?, dub-con (he does a lot without warning or asking first), stalking, obsessive/suffocating behavior, premejac, *feral* aggressive breeding, creampie, switch4switch. underlying misogyny, whores, pretty princesses, mistress, mommy, baby, goddess, sadistic & masochist fantasies, a lot of irony (which, again the point), oc/fem!reader is a veterinarian, raw rough sloppy sex (my tm atp and i'm not ashamed!) but they’re grown asf and know the consequences, Chris featured & Harcourt + Adebayo mentioned but no show (major) spoilers (imo) .

freakyasmr!audio of what I imagine he sounds like when he’s begging and breeding you like there’s no tomorrow 🥺

playlist: you - 11:11, Hdmi - bones, TBH - partynextdoor, bathroom - montell fish, devil’s advocate- the nbhd, genesis - grimes, Tommy’s party - peach pit, struggle - Tove lo, gentrify - DVD, loser - julia wolf, wicked games - The Weeknd, tie that binds - drake (are these playlist ever long enough btw? plz lmk if you’ve ever listened to 1 of mine)

wc: 6k+.. This was supposed to be a blurb, but I got carried away, oops! enjoy & remember reblogging saves accounts!!! <3

author’s note: this is very dark. depraved. shameful etc. this is not a class on personality disorders, bdsm dynamics, or even Adrian Chase. Just a work of fiction dramatizing certain aspects of a character to bring to life a silly and depraved fantasy I had after spending a week balls deep in his tags across various platforms and thought, “hm,.. I need to add something mildly threatening here..” So here we are! I wanted to put my best foot forward at explaining my personal hcs based on what they were going for in the show and some canon-compliant comic confirmations. I know some people view Freddie's Adrian portrayal as purely autistic, but I PERSONALLY don’t believe so. I’m more leaning towards ASPD-ADHD. Maybe ausASPD. Anywho. Something like ASPD (as like 90% of disorders, especially personality disorders), where there’s a chemical imbalance in certain parts of the brain + someone’s own personal life story that may lead them to behave the way they behave and I don’t want to take away from that. Don’t take this as a bible for ASPD, please do your own research and remain respectful and empathetic with people who do have it if you’re going to write about it as part of his or any character. That being said, if there is any critical criticism from said community, I’m always open and eager to learn. I also have a hc that he can't/doesn't like eating pussy because he finds it boring and even if there are fun reactions, he hates the fact that he can't see your face the entire time, so he makes up for that by being like, *reallyyyy* fucking good at fingering. Okay, Thanks.

+ this was supposed to be a OC!!!!!! I just hate hate hate hate coming up with names so wrote reader/you while writing and it stuck. if that’s too much of a problem, I implore you not to read! I tried to be vague about descriptions so any fem!reader can relate but I mentioned the reader has hair, is smaller than Adrian and is younger than Adrian (I personally envisioned 28) also if ur in this fandom plz moot me ^^

happy kinktober!

TO “understand” Adrian Allen Chase (on the barest of minimums), you need to understand ASPD or Antisocial Personality Disorder, characterized by a persistent pattern of disregard for and violation of others' rights, beginning in childhood or early adolescence. Individuals with ASPD often manipulate others for personal gain, lack empathy, and seldom feel remorse for their actions…”

I trust you also understand that in life, people being grotesquely shitty often does stem from a grotesquely shitty childhood. That's not an excuse for the person they become, but it is an explanation. For a child to be so early on pushed into fight or flight that the brain literally rewires to protect them. Added on with external societal pressures, unrestrained poor behavior, and desensitization to outcomes of a crime or breaking the law, and here you have a now “psychopathic” adult.

Often charming, most times so socially inept it’s impossible to be so after longer than introductions. Combine that with a very flimsy, distorted moral compass, and Adrian lands somewhere right in the middle. His boyish smile is bright and stuck on his face as he rants off various incorrect animal facts after slaughtering a family without a second thought.

Now you must also understand that having ASPD doesn’t automatically make one a predator, stalker, or serial killer.

However, Adrian is all three. Sue him, okay? (Please don’t, he works as a busboy and lives with his mother..)

Due to his general apathy to human life, especially the ones that he didn’t consider himself “close to’ in his own personal anti-social terms, Adrian doesn’t develop crushes often.

Fleeting infatuations? Sure. Purely lustful objectifications? Absofuckinlutely, he hates the feel of human skin, but he’s no prude.

But a crush was always a heightened obsession. Something too perfect and pure to be protected at all costs.

It wasn't Madonna's whore complex because, trust, he fantasized indecently and constantly about them. It wasn’t a truly selfless act of like or even love because he genuinely believed they were born to be possessed by him. Building up a pedestal to praise and almost worship his obsession, but will, in a moment, be enraged in hot flashes of anger when they act in any way of defiance to the image of them he creates in his mind.

Maybe this one could be it. The thing everyone else experiences. true love. He hasn’t looked at someone and felt this strongly since he was in his 20s. It went terribly to say the best. Adrian’s learned and grown a lot since then into a stable 30-year-old man who’s even a crime fighter. (He had no choice; 90% of the “growth” was court-mandated.)

Currently, Adrian was *trying* to talk to Peacemaker, or, since he wasn’t in his costume, Chris, about his villagers from Animal Crossing on his 15-minute break, which he was currently 30 minutes into.

Chris instinctively looked up behind him once the doorbell rang at the front, mid putting a fry in his mouth, when he says out loud, “goddamn, they look good as fuck.”

Adrian ticked; he hated it when Chris overtly wasn’t paying attention to him. “Who the fuck are you looking at, dude? I’m trying to show you my new villager I made based on y...”

He mumbled the rest, frozen in his tracks. Jaw slightly ajar as he stared.

“Left one has a great rack,” he heard Chris say, but all he could offer was a bullshit nod. He didn’t even realize a person was standing on the left. Not with you standing there.

You were new. No offense, but shiny. Literally. You, in all your glory, covered in what seemed to be gold…glitter? He closed his gaping mouth and narrowed his eyes behind his glasses, focusing on the features of your face. Trying his best to take each one in despite the distance.

“Gross, you’re drooling.” Peacemaker’s voice pulls him out of his trance, and he chuckles in response, a wide smile at his best friend.

“dude– you’re actually fucking drooling,” Chris says, pointing at the small stream of clear bodily fluid coming out of the corner of the younger man’s mouth with a grimaced face.

Oh. Adrian thought. He quickly wiped the spit with the back of his hand and put away his switch, pulling out his phone. “No, trust it was just the smell of the uh– he motions at the new lineup of plates coming out from the kitchen with his other hand “subpar, greasy food”

In his notes, Adrian opens up a new entry titling it “Fate” and underneath types up the date and estimated time of when he first looked at you after hearing your laugh

Chris overlooks his shoulder and stares at his screen, “Yeah, you need to be admitted.”

“But I’d miss you, bestie, and who’d take care of my patrols?”, Adrian quickly retorted, pouting while doing so if the thought of being too far seemed like genuine punishment

A male waiter approached you and your friend’s table and Adrian genuinely felt his heart drop to his ass.

No, no, no.

He veered off to the side to better see the face of the fucking loser beta male who approached you, and when he realized it was fucking Taylor who-gives-a-shit-what-his-last name-is, he wanted to strap a bomb to his own chest and change the trajectory of his life forever.

People like Taylor didn’t have to practice emotions in the mirror for hours. They knew when someone was about to cry without having to be told, and they didn’t cringe while offering comfort. Their smiles were natural, never truly taken from them, so they just gave them out to each other easily. So trusting, so real, so human. It’s unfair.

And of course, Taylor, instead of just getting the fucking orders, wanted to use his stupid fucking charm to tell a joke. Adrian can tell by the way you toss your head back in a synchronized laugh with your friend. But yours is prettier, he can also tell. The phonetics bounce off the walls differently, the kind of music only a genius could produce.

Your parents deserve the Nobel, he thinks. That’s the one for music, right?

“So goddamn injust..” he bitterly mutters, using every ounce of strength to look away, starting to make his way to the back through the double doors

Chris could notice his friend’s discomfort. The amount of possessiveness radiating off him is like a heated furnace despite literally not having spoken a word to you yet. “Stop pouting and get me fucking my bag creep.”

Adrian laughed again, finding anything the older man said amusing even if it was at his own expense. He opens up his personal work locker and shuffles around a bit before pulling out a small bag and handing it to him but as Chris reaches for it he brings it back to his chest, “So, what’s this for? Are you leaving again?” he asks with a concerned raised brow

Adrian tried to listen to his answer, he really did. He usually does, but his mind kept taking him back to the literal glowing girl who just walked into shitty fucking Flannel Fields.

Who were you? He’s sure he would've recognized you if you’d been there before. Why were you covered in gold? Are you new to town? Single? Married? That wouldn't matter, small battles, big wars blah blah.

He comes back into focus after Chris snapped in his face. “You’re actually a fucking moron, dude. Harcourt is waiting for me outside and will blow my shit clean off if I don't come out in 2 minutes, give me the bag.” and he grabs it, already starting to make his way back out with a huff.

“Wait let me walk you out buddy” Adrian jogs to catch up behind him, right on his heel.

“I know my way around Flannel field, you just wanna look at the pretty face who walked in,” he snips back, smirking. He didn’t blame him. You are hot to be fair, but he knew better than to push Adrian on some things, and he could tell this would be one of them. His obsessions, or “crushes,” were apparently in a different ballpark from what Gut told him once. The look in his eyes was always different.

Adrian doesn't disagree, just quietly humming as he trails behind him, using his abnormally large figure to stare at you while Chris rambles on about how Wonder Woman definitely wants to fuck him. His BFF is so cool!!

But there you were. You in all your glory, seemed to be wearing a football shirt; had you just gotten back from a game? He overheard the regulars here earlier about how it’s “that season”, whatever that means. He couldn't see your bottoms, but he saw your cowboy boots. Fuck that’s sexy. He took a mental note of the colorway and number to research the team later and continued observing you.

You were listening intently to something your friend was saying, nodding in agreement as you took another bite of your steaming bowl of chili. Grimacing from how hot it was. He would’ve blown on it for you. No, actually, he’d chew it and feed it to you, bird style so you wouldn’t have to chew. Wait no, actually, if you don’t use your teeth after a while, they rot. He would’ve blown it for you. He nods at his intelligence and consideration, continuing to watch your every move.

Each little movement causes a gold speck to fall off your hair, your arms, and your perfectly carved face. Suddenly, your eyes snapped up and forward, looking past the other chick and staring straight at him.

Wait, what the fuck?

He crashes headfirst into Chris’s large hand, blocking him from fully exiting the diner. Adrian moved his hand. “Why are we pushing?”

“You still got 2 hours left of that shift pal, get the hell back inside.”

Adrian smiles widely. How nice of his best friend to remember his work schedule.

He hears faint "that’ll be all”’s and thank you’s” in a sweet voice that could only be matched to the laugh of his life. He dips his head back in to look at you, and Chris grabs a hold of his shoulder,

“And dude, either leave that chick alone or try to be as normal as you can about her,” he says, laughing but fully serious.

“Totally bro, I’m like so normal about ..that stuff now," he says flashing his signature smile

It wouldn’t matter if he was lying or not; his eyes betrayed him. Shaking with excitement as if it were Christmas morning and his dream toy was under the tree. Chris just sighed and patted him on the back, leaving him at the door and making his way to Harcourt, waiting in the car. As Adrian is turning on his heel to go back inside, you and your friend are holding hands as you make your way through the slightly cramped diner. You were making your way towards him.

Holy shit, you were walking towards him. Oh fuck what should he say? Should he introduce himself? You were strutting to him like a perfect goddess; you must've naturally gravitated towards him. Maybe there was such a thing as soulmates, a red string that inevitably bonded people together.

Who knew working at a shitty ass flannel field would make for destiny?

Adrian tried projecting his voice confidently like he’d seen Peacemaker do a hundred times before in front of any babe he wanted. “Hey”

You looked so cute. A small o gasp and wide eyes followed by a giggle at something your friend whispered. “Oh, hi!” you replied.

Your friend also waiting next to you, is completely irrelevant. Might as well be a drawn stick figure you make in elementary when you still have no idea how to draw a person. How could he notice anyone who wasn't you?

Your voice felt like comfort and warmth. Or, at least what Adrian imagines that would feel like.

And now that you were standing in front of him, he got the amped up motivation, the rush, and hair-raising goosebumps. All he could do was stare. It wasn’t often Adrian had nothing to say, but oh my god, you were smiling at him. Your perfect smile.

Are people just getting to see this every day? Why was he being deprived of him for so long? He tried soaking in all your features again, your hair, eyes, lips, and nose.

‘Hi..” That was all he could manage to say again.

You were even more out of this world now that he was seeing you up close. You had on shorts with your outfit that stopped right below your ass. It barely covered anything. Perfect fit if you were to ask him, but on this type of night? It’s cold, you’ll get sick.

He glanced at his watch, the time almost knocking the air out of him once he realized how late it had gotten, and you were trying to leave now? It’s dark out, there are vile ass disgusting excuses of men who start hunting around this time of the night, and not for game.

“Sorry, but the door behind you?” You say, pointing at the exit literally directly behind him. Was he... Okay? He had this place’s uniform on.

Honestly, he was cute, greenish hazel eyes it seemed behind those serial killer frames, curly blonde hair, and kinda fit, but it was still super fucking random to stop two tipsy women from leaving. His vibe was off-putting as his eyes remained steady on you.

“Did you know that seagulls mate for life?” He blurted. Your friend, Bella, laughed out loud, and you quickly covered her mouth with your hand, trying to contain your own uncomfortable giggles due to this bizarre man and the irony of a wrong animal fact.

Bella contained herself and tugged on your hand as she led the way instead, with you following her past this strange yet pathetically cute employee in Dahmer glasses.

“Pardon,” you murmured as you momentarily invaded his space since he still didn't move, just slightly stepping to the side with a soft smile while staring hard. He smelled of fries, sweat, and earthy cologne.

Not to be a hypocrite, but at the last second, you swore you even heard him take a whiff of you? You look back, but he’s already making a beeline somewhere. Maybe it was a mistake; it’s loud in here anyway, and you tend to get into your heads in new environments. You and Bella step out into the night, speed walking to your car.

Adrian made a straight drop by at your table, flushing his hands onto the warm wooden table from your once hot plates. You guys cleaned up and left a note and $20 cash tip. Wait, a fucking note? He picks it up, quickly reading it, “great service tonight taylor, such a warm welcome to this town. thank you:)” in sleek cursive handwriting.

His chest felt hot; he knew this was your doing. Earlier, when Peacemaker was still talking, he saw your friend lending you a pen in his peripheral vision. He tuts, “We’ll have to fix that.” He slips the note into his pocket, leaving the tip because c'mon, he’s not an asshole. He makes one last sweep, looking for anything else. All he saw were your fallen golden glitter sparkles. He swept all of them into his hand and bunched them into a fist. Content.

He sees Taylor heading to the table and gives a tight-lipped smile before turning the opposite way and heading to the bathroom. He checked underneath all the stalls to make sure he was alone and threw himself into one, slamming the door shut and locking it.

“Finally, some time alone,” he muttered, opening up his palm to look at its sparkling contents. He swears one of them had your hair on it and smirked. He brought it right up to his face, shoving it onto his nose, trying to pull just a fraction of your sweet scent he had the honor of inhaling when you walked past him.

His other hand slips down to his crotch, work pants now tight and constricting at the thought of you. He’d praise the ground you walk on, kiss it, lick it until his tongue was ragged and could do nothing but hang out his mouth. He’d bask in your golden glory, a visual clouded his mind of the expensive metal dripping onto your breast. Actually, can he buy real gold to dip you in? He rutted into his hand at the thought, small groans starting to leave his mouth.

“Fuckkk..I need…I need you.” He whispers, now fully rocking back and forth. The fabric of his pants gives him just the tiny amount of friction he needs. He felt pre cum starting to pool at his tip, and just as his eyes started rolling backward, there were heavy knocks at the door.

“Chase man, you in there? Derek needs to clean the bathrooms!” He heard from outside.

Seriously, could he not get some peace and– wait, public indecency and masturbation is a crime. How could he forget that?

Rolling his eyes and straightening himself up, he shoves the remaining glitter into his pocket and adjusts his raging fucking boner so it’s not too obvious. He hesitates on opening the door, “Well, can’t he clean the women’s room first?” He shouts back, shamelessly hoping he could maybe still rub one out

“Already did man, c’mon get out” as there’s more banging. Adrian smacks his teeth and opens the stall. He regrets not clocking out immediately and following you. It’s dark out and raining; he should've been keeping you safe. Making sure you got home safe. How negligent of him.

He turns on one of the faucets, faking washing his hands (He wouldn’t do it now, he still needs to smell you when he jacks off. duh!) He sniffs the note and glitter, relishing in your holy scent one last time before turning off the faucet, and He walked right out, disregarding his much older co-worker, Derek’s obvious annoyance,

It’s okay. Tomorrow will be a chance for a new try. A real one. He just got caught off guard this time, he thinks as he hums, hands shoved into his pockets, gripping onto mementos of you. He was practically skipping at the new addition to what was starting to be another mundane routine. And he loved his patrols, truly, but he needed a distraction from lowlife graffiti artists when he wasn't on a mission with the rest of the 11th Street Kids.

He grabs his tuff, backpack, makes sure he has his switch, and stops by the kitchen to get any food they didn’t push out today.

He shoved a bunch of fries into a brown lunch bag and slipped a couple of beers from the kitchen into his backpack, putting a $10 bill onto the counter for them before clocking out.

As Adrian was leaving the kitchen he overheard Taylor talking to one of the line cooks about getting the Instagram from “one of the 10’s that came in earlier.”

Could he have meant you? No way. You didn't mention anything about it in the note. Besides, you wouldn't betray him like that. Right?

He stops for a moment at the front to whip out his phone, logging into one of his many random Instagram burners, and finds Tyler. He had already found most of his co-workers a while back. He starts slowly scrolling through Taylor’s very public account, all the while trying to remember what your friend actually looked like.

Thankfully, he knew it when he saw it and found her. “Beaut1bella, now cmon gimme the loot at the end of the rainbow, darling.” He repeats the same process on her account, having to go through 2k following instead of the 5k followers. Who the fuck even knows that many people?

See, you’re not a priority in her life. I mean, how could you be with all these other people? You would be #1 in his. Well, after Eagly, Peacemaker, and Adebayo, but they technically don’t count. So you’re first.

The great thing about attention-seeking people is that 99% of the time, their social media is public. And hers was, he starts going through her highlights. All absolutely boring, but oh—seems she’s a rich girl and oh! Seems you are, too, as he notices multiple stories in multiple overseas cities, and you were in a good number of them. You looked divine in each one. He hates himself for not having been there to praise you, protect you, and pay for all these trips.

He scrolls down to her feed, 10 posts and 2 with you in it as a duo shot. One of those pictures, you were sitting on her lap, her hand on your waist, in the backyard during what seemed to be a Fourth of July party. Saved for later. Finally, in what was an absurdly large friend group photo from your hometown, you were tagged.

Bingo.

He clicked on your tag, and godfuckingdammit, you were private. A part of him was proud, though. Of course, you knew better. You’re smart like that, you know creeps don’t deserve to see you. Good job.

He took a screenshot of your profile picture and zoomed in closer, it was blurry as fuck but sure as day you. A photo in front of the sunset at the beach. You're wearing a silk dress with a dazzling smile to match.

He could feel himself getting angry at the thought of other, far worse predators with heinous intent seeing you. He couldn't let anything happen to you.

The thought of that golden smile being taken away, those pretty teeth, those perfect lips that he yearned to slap his heavy cock onto, looking down as you sucked on his violently red tip, spilled a mess onto you, and watch as you cleaned him up.

He was definitely going to touch himself to all these finds once he got home.

Your bio read “NJ✈️WA • Lab Vet 👩‍🔬🐾” It made sense for you. You were a veterinarian? How could that not be fate? Adrian loves animals. He could get a second chance at impressing you with animal facts!

Adrian was really happy with all these discoveries of you. This was enough to last him for tonight. He was whistling as he made his way into his beat-up Chrysler Sebring, or as he sometimes likes to call it, his Vigilante mobile.

He wanted an early try at finding you, just to make sure you were tucked in safely, of course, but he’d decided to conserve his energy for tomorrow. You deserved him at his best. Nothing less.

THAT night, Adrian had a wet dream about you. It started off strangely tragic. A small, around 8-year-old version of him running after his father through a maze of doors. He follows him into a red room when suddenly everything goes pitch black, and he’s his current age and size again, being grabbed up at all sides.

Bright lights turn on like a studio, and he closes his eyes at a last-ditch attempt not to fucking go blind. His dreams never made sense to him, and they weren't about to start now.

A voice suddenly spoke up. A woman’s distorted voice. “Open your eyes, Adrian Chase”

His wrist and ankles start aching, limbs feeling sore and stretched.

“Who's there? Is this my own subconscious? Why are you telling me what to do? Why am I telling myself what to do? I hate being told what to do. I feel like I would know that”

The voice spoke up again but it sounded clearer this time. It was yours. He recognized it immediately.

He eventually opens his eyes, cursing at the adjustment.

Adrian Chase was fully bare butt ass naked, suspended in the air, chained up in a starfished position in what appeared to be a giant glass box.

Before he could register anything, he started getting milked. As in drained. As in, some invisible fucking pussy was draining his cock and not giving him any rest time between every time he came.

He imagined you the entire time, it didn’t help that the ominous voice was definitely yours. All he could do was squirm after every nut, fearful of the invisible pussy but god did it feel really fucking good to get used into nothingness.

Needless to say, He woke up with dried crust and patches of come on his underwear, pants, blanket, and even his pillow. He must’ve started humping it in the middle of the night again.

Great, now he had to do laundry two days early. Fuck.

YOU were getting adjusted to your new job as head lab veterinarian. Your personal office was an adequate size with both your own and the store’s high-end lab tech appliances. You just finished putting up the last of your own personal touch to it. You weren't really the sentimental type when it came to jobs, but this was a fresh start in a town where only one person knew you. Your childhood best friend, Bella, who also dropped off flowers for you, brought color to the harsh room.

Meanwhile, Adrian Allen Chase was convinced he was being punished.

So much so that he caved. You haven’t been to flannel in a week, and he broke. He was getting literal withdrawals, sniffing the now flimsy and slightly worn, and torn napkin note. His team knew it was serious when he brought it on a mission. Adrian never brought anything personal to missions.

While everyone else was concerned for your well-being, Adebayo pulled him to the side after the mission. Offering him some advice. She always knew how to make him feel.. less like a creep in a way. She told him that just because he felt and took in emotions differently, it didn’t take away from his life and what he deserved to experience like everyone else. Adebayo is so cool and kind. He didn’t care for people, but she was very high on the people list.

So on Monday, bright and early, Adrian made his way into the Vet Clinic, which seemed new and trustworthy. He only wanted quality care for Eagly, who was perfectly fine, but he needed an excuse to see you. (Took a lot of begging and explaining to Chris, also, he’d have to pay for the fee himself because vets are apparently really expensive)

As he’s explaining what happened (or rather making up complete and utter bullshit) to the lady at the front desk, he sees a familiar figure in the back. He hears a familiar sweet voice.

You, no way.

This was confirmation. A sign. You wanted him to find you. Your spirit was calling to him. There’s no such thing as coincidence, he read it somewhere. Now he felt ridiculous for thinking it wasn’t meant to be; after all he’s been through, he deserves you.

"Sir, if there's nothing wrong have to ask you to le-" he interrupts the front desk receptionist,

As you walk through the corridor in the back, he loudly announces an eagle fact to get your attention, "And did you know Eagles can’t see straight forward?” He feels Eagly looking right at him, but ignores it because it worked; you stopped right in your tracks, peeking your head towards the front.

Adrian sees your eyes squinting at him. Did you recognize him already? He knew this wasn’t one-sided. That you saw the potential in your connection as well. He doesn’t need to prove it; he can see it in your eyes.

"Actually-" you start, entering the room.

Checkmate.

"Eagles can see straightforward," you say, commanding the room with your energy immediately.

"Hi," He said, looking at you in all your splendor. He wasn't sure if it was just because it's been a few days, but fuck, did you get more beautiful?

Oh, it was dahmer glasses from the bar. You see the eagle next to him and let out a breath a bit, okay so he’s not just stalking you. Great, whew. You were worried there for a second. "Hello, Nice to meet you. My name's Reader," You said, sticking out your hand to shake his. “also, who’s this cutie we have today?”

Oh, he so badly wanted to touch you, but he couldn't right now, not until he fully could in the way he truly wanted to. He shook his head, denying the handshake but "making up for it" with a bright smile,

He finally introduces himself, "I have a skin thing, not you. My name's Adrian. And he’s fine. His name is Eagly, Peacemaker’s right hand actually.”

You make a “ah,” taking a mental note of that as you retracted your hand.

There's a beat, but before you have the chance, he fills it immediately. As if scared to let the conversation die off.

"How'd you end up moving and working here, reader?" He asks,

You don't even realize that he asked you about your move, not having revealed any of that to him yet. All you saw was a cute smile, some adorably curly blonde hair, and the hazel eyes on top, and you were sold. He seemed much more charming now; maybe it was just the bar lights that made him seem eerie.

You look at the clock behind you and around the front desk area, and it seemed like it was a slow day, and you were about to go on lunch anyway, so you decided to entertain him in conversation.

He was cute, what's the harm?

"Well after schooling, I had to complete my DVM-“

He interrupts, he seemed to do that often. " I’m in the DSM-5 too!!!! Wait, what the fuck is wrong with you? Doesn’t matter, you’re pretty and smart.”

“No, the DVM-4"... the four-year Doctor of Veterinary Medicine program needed to get my undergrad degree so I could become a vet. A lot of my classmates hated clinical training, but I always found it fun. Thank you for the compliments but Adrian, are you saying you have a personality disorder?” You ask, and as he smiled everything starts to click.

While the conversation flows, Eagly flies away, having served her purpose, and she would be nagging him for her promised chips later.

IT was around 9pm when you were walking to your car. Sure you exchanged numbers earlier today, but you didn’t expect Adrian Chase to be spam texting your phone as you were coming out of your building,

Adrian Chase🧜‍♂️: This is Adrian btw, saved my number on your phone :)))))))))))))))))))! 2:13pm

Adrian Chase🧜‍♂️: heyyy 8:55pm

Adrian Chase🧜‍♂️: are you leaving work yet? 8:58pm

Adrian Chase🧜‍♂️: me againnnnn! It’s getting late, are you leaving soon? 9:03pm

You felt slightly ashamed for being so into whatever was wrong with him, you caught yourself smiling at the deranged messages. You decided to respond nonchalantly. Someone needed to keep their cool between the two of you.

Sexy Cool Vet Reader 🧜‍♀️: Lol, leaving now. Nice formally meeting you today btw. - 9:08pm

Adrian watched as you exit the building, hurriedly typing something on your phone. A second later, he felt his phone buzz. A smile couldn’t help but spread on his face.

He was still worried though. No wonder you rarely had time for the bar, Adrian thought; these people had you working insane hours! Your poor feet, you need a massage tonight, don’t you? Maybe he could stop by inside later. He’d be really discreet about it, wouldn’t even put your toes in his mouth or anything…unless you wanted him to, of course! He got goosebumps at the thought but had to calm himself down, focusing on protecting you. See, he never left after your conversation. How could he? He had to make sure you got home safe.

At first he maintained a fair distance, watching you from the side of the Clinic building until he noticed a large figure standing by one of the only non functioning lamp posts in the parking lot. Face obscured by a hat and dark hoodie.

A predator. They always stank before he saw them. Not literally but he could smell their depraved thoughts, he knew all it would take was a little motivation. He knew they’d feel the same thing he did and it made him sick. The calculated yet steady breathing when following your prey at a hauntingly slow pace, the adrenaline rush when they saw you and the gratification of carrying out whatever you desired onto them. For some, the motivation was different. Money, drugs, or a sympathetic smile from a young pretty girl. But the truth is it didn’t matter the reason.

Being the one in control of someone else’s life in your hands. Control where people like him often lacked it everywhere else in their shitty lives. Being looked down on by people around them and watching as they interact, not understanding their displays of emotions or the true value of human life. Whether that was at home with mommy, who never gave him attention growing up, at the menial job with menial pay and menial people who walked or looked over him, or in his almost non-existent love and social life, where no one ever interested him enough to pursue, or the ones who did, found him creepy.

Not when it all actually came down to control anyway.

Predators like this perverted lowlife excuse of fucking air do this to helpless victims. Marginalized groups that already face injustice. Adrian, on the other hand, liked to do it to lawbreakers.

There was no point in staying hidden at that point; he knew you'd have to see him for what he was about to do.

He attacked before the man could even do anything, hating the sight of him near your presence. The nerve to disturb a hard-working, young, beautiful career woman on her way home? Ugh, undeserving of a life. There are children in hospitals, God.

The man tumbled hard, caught off guard by the sneak. He tried getting up, but Adrian stepped on his back then sliced both his Achilles.

What the fuck? You took out your AirPods, startled by a noise that went through your noise cancellation.

The criminal screeched in pain, so Adrian smacked his head with the back of one of his military grade K-Bar knives, wishing so badly he could do it with the other side, but you were turning around, so he settled for quickly duct taping him.

You turn and see 2 figures, you grip your knife and dial 9-1-1, not approaching but peering your head to make sure there wasn't a victim situation occurring, you edge a smidge closer to one of the working lights and see what appears to be a superhero on top of some huge guy?

You get a second and wait, you've heard of this one before, his group on the news once already since you've been here. And you recognized that build and awkward stance, you just couldn't picture where.

Thanks to his hypno glasses (which were also prescription), he knew that unless he revealed himself, you weren’t actually going to be able to figure out who he is.

You lean forward, silent for a moment, then—

“..Adrian Chase? Is that you?”

Oh fuck. Oh shit. What the fuck?

You relax, dropping the emergency knife into your bag.

“Uhm, no. No, I do not know who that is. I have never met that man in my life, Adrian Chase??? Who is that?” he starts laughing hysterically, pointing at you like you made a joke, but you recognize that uneasy behavior anywhere, even behind a ridiculous red visor.

Became all too familiar with it in your third week here, in that dinebar. You honestly forgot the name and meant to ask your best friend, so you guys could go again to relax and catch u, but you were both so busy.

You already thought he was a major cutie, although off-putting, but as you sized him up under the soft lamp light, hr was also super hot in his costume thingy. Hm.

“I’ve heard about you guys, the 11th street kids, I mean. So, you’re vigilante… like, a superhero?”

“Well, no, kinda. Sorta. Okay no. I’m a vigilante. It’s in the name. I was lazy.” He explains,

Oh shit, he fell for it.

“Ha! I knew it. Mask off” was the first thing you ordered, and it immediately made his dick twitch.

“Wait, but I can't do it out here; someone might see me," he complained.

You thought about it, it was literally almost pitch black, no other cars but yours and his, and no other people but you two. But you guessed this was his other job, and he was technically famous.

"Okay, handle that and then come inside. Lock the doors behind you.” You tossed him the spare building key; you had a minor feeling you would regret doing that.

You tossed him the building keys, and he almost came on the spot. You would definitely regret doing that. He smiled and nodded his head, "Yes ma'am," getting ready to pick up this very unlucky bastard that tried to mess with you.

You get inside and set your stuff down, retrieving one of the first aid kits you had hidden away in one of your personal cabinets. I want to see his face, your mind kept repeating.

Which is odd because you've already seen him regularly, but it must be a completely different vibe when he's in his suit, right? You start wondering if you're the first besides his family and team to know his secret. Did he have a...girlfriend?

And as if he knew what you were thinking, he walked in, setting down his mask while closing the door behind him as well.

"You're the only one besides my team who knows my identity, not even my family. " He says, voice in a serious but pleading tone,

You hum, understanding the newfound responsibility.

"No girlfriend?", you ask curiously, stepping closer.

He looks at you, a slightly pink hue coming across his now sheepish face. It was humiliating for some reason to admit it to such an attractive woman. "No, no girlfriend. Utterly Single."

You nod, smiling, "Perfect."

The more pressure you applied down over his member, the more he thrusted forward to meet you, face twisting in agony, but only sounds of pleasure leaving his puffy lips from trying to bite back his moans.

You cooed at the sight. He just looked so damn good. You want to torture him more. “You’re taking the pain so well, baby. Want more?” The pet name slipped off your tongue easily, call it an extra incentive for him looking like that, even after you could've sworn he was stalking you. You still secretly do think so, but you continued egging him on anyway.

“Want to wriggle around this floor, all fucking pathetic just for mommy to pay attention to you?”

“Yes-ye-yes please Mistress, do whatever you want to me and it’ll feel so fucking good, just give me more. I need more,” he whimpered, now rapidly thrusting, using his hand to press your heel down harder against him. Savage groans and a crazed look in his eyes overtook him as they rolled back.

With one hand, you gripped the chair hold and applied some real pressure, as if you were trying to legitimately hurt him and he let out an animalistic groan at the feeling, his hips sputtering followed by a string of curses as he held on to your leg for dear life.

With your other hand, you flowed through his hair, bunching it up at the back, and pulled his head back. “Now come.” It was all you demanded, and he looked into yours as if he found the 8th wonder of the world.

“Yes, mommy, I’ll do an-anything you ask me. Everythi-holy fucking shitImcomingfuck.” was all he managed as he keeled over panting, sweat beading from his forehead and come filling up his tighty whites in thick spurts. The pressure of your heel was still applied just the amount of pain he needed to truly be satisfied, and you felt his come pooling up in his pants.

Your name was all he could murmur over and over as he came down. You were everything and more. No amount of sexual fantasies could live up to the feeling of your expensive, shiny heels destroying his inhibitions in a record-breaking minute and 12 seconds.

If there were a heaven, this must be it. He had reached it.

You reached down to pet his head, moving his curls off his sweaty forehead. You could get used to this view. Such a not-so-secretly insecure yet domineering man under this playful mask. He covers it up well enough with such a gorgeous face and tongue exercise tangents about whatever he was thinking.

He reminded you of an Orca. Self destructive apex predators that do what they do out of pure boredom. Yet so, curious? So eager to learn, play, touch.

It was also refreshing to have the upper hand, for someone who operates to never lose control, graciously giving that up on a Friday night in the middle of a vet.

To be honest, Adrian never really cared about pleasuring the other person when having sex. I mean, he was getting his nut off (often only him), so why should it matter?

But he's seen porn before. He's seen those faces women make when they're experiencing genuine sexual pleasure from his threesomes with Peacemaker; the women always seemed like they were having a better time with him. At first, he didn't realize it, making fun of the older man for the way ladies would shriek and shake with him; it looked like an exorcism to Adrian, and he just didn't care for it. especially since his social skills often involuntarily nerfed him unless he's in his mask.

Fans love fucking him with the mask on. If you asked him nicely on a pretty day, he'd oblige with or without Peacemaker sometimes.

Anyway, the point was, He wanted to see you experience pleasure because of him. he wanted to hear you shriek and feel you shake underneath him in pleasure because of him, and he wanted to put all his usual grievances about the feeling of human flesh and mundane sex aside for you. It was selfish, really, because he needed you just as much.

Adrian looked up, eyes the size of saucers from being so fucked out, a bit of drool from his open-mouthed panting. God, you looked like a goddess staring at him like that. He tried to regain a morsel of his composure by standing up but he kept one firm hand on your leg.

“You need some help, vigilante?” You were making fun of him now. Teasing him really at the state he was in. Knees buckling as he stood up from a dirty over-the-hero costume footjob as if he didn’t just take down a 200lb man without breaking a sweat.

He laughed at your offer, shaking his head “Oh this is nothing, I feel great. Just you wait.”

That’s another thing about him that you noticed, all his touches were firm. Like he was grounding himself in you, or setting it up to be the right amount of pressure. No deliberate touch is ever uncertain, is it due to the human skin thing he mentioned earlier?

“That was fucking amazing, where’d you learn to do that? Actually, don't tell me. Thanks for doing it. I haven't come that hard in years.” he says with his other hand gripping your jaw/chin. You felt nervous, that same heating arousal in your stomach again as it flipped just off his words.

You wanted to cross your leg, to alleviate some of the pressure beginning to form between your thighs, your cunt wet, feigning for attention but he still had that other hand firm on your knee, keeping it down.

He tuts, shaking his head before smiling and forcing you to look up at him. “Well, that’s rude. Now, what do we say when someone says thank you?

You tried to answer but he had your mouth on lock, now holding your cheeks so firmly it had no choice but to stay open as you stared up at him.

The tables had turned. You could feel it in the air, and see it in his eyes. Sense it by the way he touched you. This was the man who just took down someone more than 40lbs his body weight.

You try anyway, “y-you’re welchomew” was all you could manage to slur. Trying to stop the saliva from falling down your chin.

He just stared at you, considering when he removed both hands from you. Your body immediately missed his hot touch in the cold office.

“Now, we’re about to play a little game huh. See how long you can last before you turn into a whore begging me to fuck the friendly out of you.” He fired, harsh words all with a smile as he took off his pants.

Friendly? What was he on about?

You didn’t even have time to fully think about it because his pants dropped in a moment, belt buckle hitting the floor with a thud.

You looked up and your eyes stopped right at his bare penis. “Damn.” Was all you could mutter.

He was packing what seems to be 7 inches exactly fully stone hard. A slit so sensitive even the air seemed to be too much, veins galore. Thick more so than long and a very bulbous and dark pink tip, like the inside of the Hibiscus.

You were practically drooling at the thought of it in your mouth, between your boobs maybe? some backshots? Mating press! You just needed him inside you.

He could tell you were hungry and so was he. Your state was primal, you looked adorable he thought.

He took your hand like a prince in the movies, placing a delicate kiss to it before he spun you around and into him. Back flushed to his chest. You were breathing heavy now, honestly panting like a dog after a run with its owners.

“Relish it, show me how bad you want it inside you, while I fuck you with my fingers.” He growled.

You felt all of him on you; it felt degrading yet enchanting how he took you for himself in a moment. One hand at your hips, flushing your ass onto his bare member. Other hand, now down to your breasts, groping them harshly as he slobbered all of your nape, biting on it and pulling skin.

And yet there you were, getting slicker with wet by the minute, and before you even realized it, you were grinding up against him, moaning loudly into the quiet office.

This was nothing compared to some of the best foreplay you’ve experienced but it felt perfect. Like he was truly seeing you and worshipping you at a standard maybe even you could never understand. It just felt so fucking good.

He trailed his hand up your thighs, scrunching up your skirt to reach your cunt. He cupped it with his hand, rubbing it back and forth, pressing the bottom of his palm onto your swollen and sensitive clit. The g-string damn near giving him direct access.

“This is what you wear to work, huh? This flimsy string for anyone to take off?” He teased your entrance with his thick fingers, playing with your slick, puffy folds. He just barely put one in your eyes, rolled back, eager in anticipation.

Finally, after an accidental bump, his first finger slipped in, immediately making your head roll back onto his shoulder, mouth slightly opened as you squeezed your eyes shut. "Look at you, going dumb off just one finger? What if I added two more?"

Before you could react, he slipped in the other two, three fingers now ramming into your warm canal

"Goddamn baby, it feels like a furnace in here, you that warm for me?' Your wetness goes all the way down to his wrist as he demonstrates no mercy in your cunt. "That wet for me?" he whispered in your ear, eyes never leaving your face. Adrian was taking your cunt like it was his to begin with, with just his fingers. You almost fall to your knees when he starts swirling his thumb on your clit if it weren't for his strong, toned arms holding you steady.

You could feel his heart beating, loud and fast. drumming against his chest onto your back. He suddenly takes all his fingers out of you at once, stopping and sounding genuinely annoyed as he says,

“Why do you have all this on, huh? You don’t need any of this shit, baby. I wanna see all of you. Need it real bad.” It was firm, sounded like a plea, but the more you got to know him, you knew this was a demand.

You could only moan at his yearning in response, really. Let him have his way with you. “Take it off, I don’t need it. Whatever you want,” you nodded dumbly in agreement. He zipped the side of your knee-length pencil skirt, forcefully pulling it down with one hand. He then took off your jacket and work top, leaving you in your underwear.

He took a step back and you whined again at the lost of contact but he tuts, shushing you with a hand over your mouth “you’ll get what you need so just let me look, okay?” He asks looking into your eyes, not removing his hand yet.

You nod, and after a few seconds of intense stares he finally retracts his hand and starts walking around you. Looking you up and down, as if memorizing every crevice of your body. Circling you like an actual predator. This was the second time that night you felt a semblance of fear around him even though you knew, not sure why but you just knew that he had no intentions of harming you.

Well, at least not tonight it didn’t feel like it.

So you let him observe you, quiet as it looked like he was taking mental snap shots of your body. He finished back where he started, in front of you smiling. You looked down, slightly embarrassed and he was still hard as a rock. Penis standing up, dark red, almost purple at the tip it seemed. Beaded pre cum now showing through but he made no attempt to alleviate himself.

“Fuck, please let me help you.” You whined, reaching your hand out but he stopped it centimeters away. A tight grip on your wrist,

“I really have to train you huh? Whoever you were with before did a horrible job.”

Before?? Were you with someone now?

At that you opened your mouth to speak up but he pushed you back onto your desk, not enough to hurt you but enough for you to know to attempt at getting up.

Adrian settles into the crook of your neck, your entire body against his. He uses his other hand to take off your bra. A trick he learned from Chris. He tosses it to the side somewhere and lets out a mewled whine himself at the sight of your tits. God they were even more perfect than he imagined, definitely deserved to be covered in gold.

He palmed them gently, massaging them at first, smiling as he looked into your eyes, “that feel good?” He whispered

“Mhm-fuck, yeah, really good” you moaned, head thrower back as he purposely grazed over your nipples with both hands. Suddenly, he got touch, palming your breast with a bit more force. His eyes darkened as he bent down, opening his mouth and letting saliva drop onto your right nipple.

He watched it, mesmerized before he leaned in and started sucked on your boob. He almost fit the entire thing into his mouth out of sheer desperation and while, hips rutting into the air, cock hitting your cunt every few thrust as he bit and groped your breast and nipples harder.

You were moaning a lot harder now, he used the other hand to flick your left nipple repeatedly and it hurt so fucking good.

He then brought himself closer to you, hovering over you as he sniffed you like a hound. Taking in your scent, nose directly on your skin as he inhaled various parts of your body.

“You smell really fucking good. I’ve been thinking about doing this for days. I actually almost stopped by here after the first day I saw you in Flannel Fields but I wanted to give you space. Now look at you, under me. At my disposal. I could probably come off this alone.”

God, the way he spoke made you feel so seen. So important even though he’s admitting to stalking you. His words screamed danger but everything about him made you want to explore, want to pull him closer. So you do, wrapping your legs around his hips, drawing him closer to your aching cunt which has resulted into sporadic clutches around nothing. Needing to be filled to the brim.

“Look at you, so fucking desperate for my cock. How insane is that, a piece of work like you? How would people react if I told them you were practically humping the air for me huh?” He laughed, watching you roll your eyes in annoyance but squirm to get closer. Needing him flush against you.

He relents, getting closer and bringing an arm up under you to slightly sit you up. All your weight heavy on him. You both looked a mess. Hair everywhere, saliva everywhere, clothes everywhere and you haven’t even fucked yet.

He looks down at his cock, finally giving it some attention and positioning himself direct. As it’s in his hand, he tells you to spit on it so you do, gathering all you can before watching it drop out your mouth and onto his throbbing cock, staring at him the entire time.

He gives it a few lazy, slow pumps all while maintaining your eye contact. You could feel your slick getting all over your desk, your g string thong doing nothing to stop it.

He moans while looking at you. How could he not? “God, you’re so fucking sexy. I’m actually going to fuck the shit out of you.” He says, still smiling.

How the fuck was he always smiling? You were on the verge of exploding and could hardly talk anymore.

Adrian was now amped up, watching you make a mess all over his hand. He was confident that he'd be making you see stars.

Before you can ask him about a condom, he thrusts into you all at once, your hands find themselves on his toned, carved asss fucking stomach, eyes shut, biting your lip, trying to refocus as you can literally feel all seven and what feels like a quarter of throbbing dick in you.

You're panting as you steady yourself, his hands on your waist, leaving a small trail of kisses on your neck, "You ready?" he whispers, "yes please, god Adrian, just fuck me already." You damn near scream, starting to get impatient with all his teasing.

"Alright, alright, no need to be so mean, lie back, baby," he says with a giggle. You do, but playfully hit his shoulder as you go down. As you're staring at the ceiling, you feel him further move your g-string to the side, and it hits your clit while he's readjusting himself inside you, and it causes you to yelp. You almost swore you felt him in your stomach for a second.

He starts thrusting again, but it's... lazy? Like all 7 inches of him just disappeared? Maybe you were too turned on?

He's almost manically laughing, pleased with himself as his loppy, lazy strokes as he watched himself going in and out of you. "Yeah, you feel that, huh?"

Well, no. You don't actually.

I mean, you guys have been at it for probably half an hour now, your lips are puffy, clit swollen, too wet. Must be the problem, right?

"Wait, Adrian, go harder, baby," you instructed, looking up at him with batted lashes and a gentle, reassuring smile

He falters a bit but smiles, gripping your hips with both hands before repositioning himself and slamming himself back into you. He continues the tempo for 10 more strokes, and they each hit the pot just the right amount, but suddenly, he's doing those god awful, sloppy, slow strokes again. Why do men swear that's what you want? Especially when you're not even dating?

You look at the big clock by your door, it was deamn near 12 am. 11:38pm, but still it took you like 12 minutes to get home, no way you were about to fully entertain trash dick at your grown ass age

But before you said anything, you thought about who you were dealing with here and the amazing pre-sex you guys just had, maybe he just needed more guidance? Maybe you could keep him as a side if you decide to start dating down here again?

You haven’t been with someone who was *this* bad at sex since Uni. How the fuck were you supposed to teach a 30-year-old, how to fu-

Adrian saw you looking at the clock, and for the second time in his life, he wanted to strap a bomb to his chest. Fuck, absolutely not, I've worked too hard for this, he thought

He was not going to let all his hard work go away

As he sees you about to talk, he puts a hand over your mouth and the other stays on your hip, "you’re not going anywhere, no way. Nuh uh. I just got you, no fair" whining, annoyed as he fucks harshly into you like you were begging for previously.

your eyes roll back, hands grabbing for anything they can reach, knocking over some files you’d have to go over in the morning as he gets you closer and closer to your peak

Adrian liked the way you were going dumb right now, bouncing back on his dick, tits jiggling, inaudible and muffled slurring. You looked like a fucking goddess. You were his. All his.

“Fucking take it, take it like you can’t live without it. Take it like you’ll fucking die without it.”

Your brain feels dizzy, and you can't even formulate a thought. This is just me, the author.

He momentarily removes his hand from your mouth, laughing at the sight, “Look at you, literally foaming at the mouth while taking my babies deep into your womb. God, I can’t wait to tell Chris about this.”

He covers it back up again as soon as you try to form words, your legs shaking already, “Whores who are in the middle of taking dick have no reason to speak. But don’t worry, pretty princesses also shouldn’t waste their breath on lowly peasants like me.”

“You wanna go back to looking at the clock, huh?” He taunts and your stomach turns, you were about to come you could feel it

God he wishes he could take a picture. No way Taylor would have you like this. No offense, not even Chris would have you like this and he really respects him.

You two were creating a combined mess where your hips met, the sloshing sound as he pumped in and out of you echoed the walls of your distinguished office. His brows were furrowed, piercing green eyes glued to the scene, sweat dripping from his abs, heavy balls smacking your ass just right. It was all too fucking good.

"Ad-AdrisnIm-" You choke on your words, literally, from the amount of spit alone,

He watches you in awe at his work then supports your neck up a bit so you could actually not die on him.

"I know, princess, I know. Just come, I'll do it with you, baby," he encourages as he shudders over you, grip tightening. You as well, just clenching your shaking thighs, face contorting as you come all over his cock still pulsating inside you, thick streams of his come filling your womb, your juices mixing and spilling onto your desk.

All that's left is the sound of you both panting heavily,

"You're so pretty when you've just come. It should be a painting hung up in the Louvre, well, in an alternate reality where I wasn't so possessive."

You feel his dick twitch inside you when you bring your hand to your chest, feeling your heartbeat, you finally look up a him. "Adrian, we have t-"

Adrian suddenly looked around at the mess, "Oh no, I have to do laundry. Do you want me to do yours too?" he asks, pulling out of the minnie creampie you guys had going on for a second.

All you could do was stare at him. "We should start seeing each other," you say with a serious face as you reach over in one of your desk drawers and pull out wet wipes, handing him a few.

He takes the ones you gave him and uses them to clean you up. "I think I'd really like that. I don't know what I'd do if we just had this mind-blowing sex and ghosted me. I'd probably fuck up a mission; that'd be terrible. In my line of work, well, other work. You can't fuck up missions, fucking up missions means de-

“Death." You finish it for him, understanding fully. Your situations were definitely different, but all you saw in front of you was a curious orca that deserved a chance, too.

You lift his chin up as he's finally cleaning himself; he was so beautiful under the white fluorescent lights of your office. "I understand, Adrian," was all you said before leaning in, planting a short but firm kiss on his lips.

When you backed up, his eyes looked bright, like he was seeing literal stars. And they also almost looked, teary?

"My dicks hard again," he claims, breaking the silence. You look down, and sure enough, it was erect, already starting to poke your thigh.

You both erupt in laughter.

author's note: lol guys, I wrote the actual sex/smut part off an edible. Can you tell? Did you catch the louvre joke? I know everyone’s saying it but I really do appreciate a good heist. A good crime even. Well, if you're reading this, that means you've actually made it to the end of this insanity. Sorry it's so long, had a day off and went crazy lol. This was really fun, will be writing for him again soon.

thanks again for reading, and please remember, reblogging saves accounts! <3

[highonheavens]

" Self aware "

pairings : older Lara Raj x older Manon Bannerman x younger fem!reader genre : fluff, smut warnings : dirty talk, humiliation, fingering, mouth spitting, suggestive, degradation, spanking , (headcannons? ..) , !!age gap!!, rough!Lara, Soft!Manon, mommy kink. !y/n is 19 (deffo not self indulgent) Manon-29, Lara-26! If you don't like age gaps like these please dont read.

You hated how small you felt between them sometimes.

Not in the way Manon meant when she smiled and told you how perfectly you fit against her, or how Lara would pull you closer without thinking, like you belonged there.

No this was different.

It was in the way they carried themselves. The way they knew things. The way they never seemed unsure. Manon, twenty-nine, calm and steady—like nothing could really shake her. Lara, twenty-six, sharp and intense—every movement deliberate, every word calculated.

And you? Nineteen.

Still trying to catch up to a world they already seemed to understand.

“You’re doing it again,” Manon murmured softly, her fingers warm as they tilted your chin up. You didn’t even realize you’d been staring off until she pulled you back. “I’m not,” you mumbled, even though your voice lacked any real conviction.

Manon’s lips curved slightly, not buying it. “You are.”

“You definitely are,” Lara added from across the room, her tone already edged with irritation.

Your eyes snapped to her. “Can you not start?”

She scoffed lightly, pushing herself off the wall. “I’m not starting anything. I’m pointing out the obvious.”

“Yeah, well,” you shot back, crossing your arms, “sorry I’m not as put together as you.”

That did it.

The shift in the room was immediate—subtle, but heavy. Lara moved before you could even think to step back. Two strides, and she was right in front of you.

Her hand came up, gripping your jaw—firm, controlled, fingers pressing just enough to make your breath catch as she tilted your face toward hers.

“Watch your tone,” she said quietly.

Not loud. Not yelling.

Which somehow made it worse.

Your heart jumped, but you didn’t look away. You never did not from her, you didn't really dare to. Instead, your lips twitched with that same stubborn defiance that always got you into trouble.

“Or what?” you muttered.

Manon sighed softly under her breath. “Oh, here we go…”

Lara’s eyes darkened slightly, her grip tightening just a fraction.

“You really don’t know when to stop,” she said.

You huffed, trying to pull back just enough to be difficult. “Maybe I just don’t like being talked down to.”

“Then stop acting like a stubborn bitch."

You opened your mouth again, ready with another sharp reply but you didn’t get the chance to finish.

Lara’s thumb pressed against your lower lip, firm and unyielding, forcing your mouth open just enough to cut you off mid-sentence. Before she forced you mouth open a bitch more, she grabbed your waist and shoved you closer to her, dominant. She spit in your mouth. A string of saliva connecting her tounge and into your mouth.

The words died instantly. Laras voice cut thru, breaking the thin string of saliva. "Swallow it."

Your breath hitched—more from the sudden control than anything else as your eyes flickered with surprise… and something just as stubborn underneath.

“Still talking?” Lara muttered, her voice low, almost cold now. “No. Don’t think so.”

The room went quiet.

For a moment, it was just her hand on your face, her presence overwhelming, and the way she held your gaze like she was daring you to try again.

From the side, Manon exhaled softly, shaking her head. “Lara…”

“She’s pushing it,” Lara replied without looking away from you.

“And you’re feeding into it,” Manon said, stepping closer.

Neither of you moved.

You could feel your heartbeat now, fast, uneven, but you refused to let her see you fold completely.

Your eyes narrowed slightly instead, still holding onto that bratty edge, even if it was weaker now.

Lara noticed.

Of course she did. Her expression didn’t soften, but something in it shifted, just barely, like she was deciding whether to push further or pull back.

Then, after a second too long, she let go.

Your breath came out sharper than you intended, and you instinctively stepped back half a step, your hand brushing your jaw like you needed to remind yourself you were still in control too.

“…You’re so demanding,” you muttered, like you weren't in enough trouble already. You just had to push her every button.

Lara let out a short laugh, humorless but not as sharp as before. “And you’re a brat. This isn’t new.”

Before you could snap back, Manon stepped in between you both literally and emotionally.

Her hand came up to your cheek, soft, grounding, the complete opposite of Lara’s grip.

“Hey,” she said gently, her voice lowering just for you. “Come here.”

You didn’t resist this time.

Manon’s thumb brushed lightly under your eye, even though you weren’t crying just overwhelmed in a way you didn’t want to admit.

“You being younger doesn’t make you less,” she said, steady and sure. “It just means you’re still figuring things out. That’s allowed.”

Your shoulders dropped slightly. This serious talk again, you'd rather it just be more ... you, playful, teasing.

From behind her, Lara clicked her tongue quietly. “We’re not babysitting you.”

Manon glanced back at her. “That’s not what I said.”

“But it’s what she thinks,” Lara replied.

You looked at her again. “…I don’t think that.”

“Yeah?” Lara raised an eyebrow. “Then stop acting like you don’t belong here.” That hit harder than you expected. Because that was exactly what you’d been feeling.

Silence settled for a second. Then, quieter, still firm, still very Lara, she added .. “If it actually bothered me… I wouldn’t be here.”

Your gaze flickered. “…You’re still mean,” you said after a moment, softer now.

Lara smirked faintly. “And you’re still a brat.”

Manon huffed a small laugh, shaking her head as she pulled you closer into her her chest, like wanting to see if Laras dominance actually hurt you in a way. “Unbelievable, both of you.”

“…She started it,” you muttered.

“I did not,” Lara shot back.

“You did-”

“Okay,” Manon cut in, amused now. “We are not doing round two of this bullshit.”

That earned a small huff from both of you. But neither of you moved away.

And after a moment, Lara stepped closer again—not as intense this time, but still close enough that her presence lingered. You didn’t feel as small anymore.

Not really.

" Attention seeker "

You were already bored ten minutes in.

Manon’s family house was warm, loud in that effortless way big families always were. Someone was cooking, someone else was laughing too loudly, and you were sitting way too upright on the couch like you belonged in a museum exhibit instead of a living room.

Manon was in the kitchen talking to her parents like she’d done it a hundred times before, calm, confident, completely at ease.

Lara was nearby but quieter, observing everything with that sharp, unreadable expression she always had around people she didn’t fully trust yet.

And you?

You were spiraling.

“They’ve got weird mugs,” you muttered out loud, picking one up and inspecting it like it had personally offended you.

Manon glanced over. “It’s a normal mug.”

“It’s too small.”

“It’s a mug.”

You leaned back on the couch, sighing. Probably annoyed, basically annoyed at fucking everything at this point. “This couch is also weird.”

Lara’s eyes flicked to you. “It’s a couch.”

You sighed dramatically. “I miss our place.”

Manon raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. Then you leaned forward slightly, voice louder than necessary. “Also, why is everyone just standing around like this? It’s kind of awkward.”

A few heads turned.

Manon’s smile tightened just a little. “Okay,” she said gently, walking over. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

You groaned. “I’m not doing anything wrong.”

“That’s why I want to talk to you.”

You stood anyway, rolling your eyes, following her out of the room.

Manon tries first.

She guided you into a quieter hallway, closing the door behind you.

“Hey,” she said softly, “what’s going on?”

You crossed your arms. “Nothing. I just don’t like it here.”

“That’s not true,” Manon said calmly. “You’re acting out.”

“I’m not acting out.”

“You are,” she repeated gently. “You’ve been restless all evening. Snappy. Demanding attention.”

You scoffed. “Maybe I just want attention.” Then your face hardend, annoyed? Definitely. Because why would they take you to something this incredibly fucking boring? It made you want to twist your brains into mush.

Manon studied you for a moment, still patient. “You have it.”

“That’s not what I mean.” you protested.

She sighed lightly. “I know.”

A beat passed.

“You don’t need to perform like this in front of everyone,” she added. “You’re safe here.”

But you weren’t listening properly anymore. Manon was being too sappy. You liked that she cared, you wanted more action.

Your eyes flicked away, already bored again. “Can we go back now?”

Manon paused. Then she exhaled, like she’d reached the edge of her patience—but still calm. “I think Lara should talk to you,” she said finally.

Your expression shifted immediately. “Oh, great.”

Lara takes over.

Lara didn’t even ask.

She just showed up, opened the door, and looked at you like she already knew exactly what was happening.

“Out,” she said.

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

Her gaze sharpened. “Now.”

Manon gave you a small, almost apologetic look before stepping aside.

You muttered something under your breath but followed anyway. Lara led you down the hallway, away from the noise, into a quiet room and closed the door behind you. Then she turned. “Do you want to behave like this in front of my family too?” she asked flatly.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m just being honest.”

“No,” she cut in immediately. “You’re being difficult for attention.”

You frowned. “That’s not—”

“Stop,” Lara said sharply.

That made you pause.

She stepped closer not touching you yet, but close enough that it forced your focus back onto her.

“You don’t get to disrupt every room you walk into just because you feel insecure,” she said, voice lower now. “You don’t get to pick at everything and everyone because you’re uncomfortable.”

Your jaw tightened. “You’re acting like I’m a problem.”

“I’m acting like you’re overwhelmed and taking it out on everyone else.”

Silence.

Your eyes flickered away again, but she didn’t let you escape it.

“Look at me,” Lara said.

You didn't. That made Lara snap. Lara grabbed you, locked the door and dragged you to a chair. She sat down first then shoving you into her lap. your stomach hittinf her lap with force that made you let out a little groan that you didn't know you were holding in. Lara scrunched your dress up before hoisting it over your waist. You were wearing lingere, beacause. Well you knew this was going to happen. You smirked in victory. Then came a slap. Laras hand hitting your ass in a firm slap that made your skin sting in after-thought. That surprised you. "You think this lingere is going to stop me from spanking you to give you some fucking manners?" Another harsh slap that echoed in the room. Tears in your eyes already began swelling up, truth was. You didnt like being treated like some toddler thats getting scolded by her mother. Another smack. "Are you going to fucking answer me slut?." Another slap, which let a whine out of you. You couldn't let up now, your pride was too strong. You were truly too subborn to let up. Lara scoffed mockingly. A series of slaps came in, it made your skin sting after, like really burn. In a way, you knew this was coming. For being bratty, annoying to Manon and Lara, and mostly unfair .. You swallowed your pride, as much as it hurt your ego. You really wanted to be able to walk without limping. "i-im sorry Lar-" Lara seemed to calm down but scoffed shortly after. She rubbed her hand on the stinging red skin on your ass. You let out a whine. "Im sorry mommy!" "Thats better."

Laras hand stopped, then you felt your silky dress being pushed down to its orignal place. You sighed of releif, grateful that atleast Laras ongoing toture stopped. The silk releived some of that pain.

Aftermath.

Lara didn’t raise her voice again.

She just stayed there with you until the tension started to burn out of your system.

“You need to watch your tone in public y/n." she said after a moment, softer now. “But you need to stop acting like you’re alone in this house.”

Your throat tightened slightly.

“…I didn’t like it,” you admitted quietly.

“I know,” she replied immediately. A pause. Then, more carefully: “Next time, say that instead of tearing the whole place apart.”

You looked down. “…Okay.”

A beat passed before she exhaled and stepped back slightly, giving you space again.

“Breathe,” she said simply.

And you did.

Manon "afterward"

You found Manon back in the kitchen.

She looked at you immediately, reading your face in seconds.

“…Lara was intense, and it hurt.” you muttered.

Manon sighed. “Was she fair?”

You hesitated. then added-small. Because well your pride was hurt enough.

“…Yeah.”

Manon nodded slowly. “Then I’m not mad at her.”

Your eyes widened slightly. “Excuse me?”

She gave you a small, knowing look. “I’m not excusing her actions, but you were pushing everyone tonight.”

You groaned, dropping your head into her shoulder, wrapping your arms around her waist. “I didn’t mean to.”

Manon’s hand came up to your back, soothing. “I know.”

From behind you, Lara walked in, arms crossed.

“She’ll survive,” Lara said flatly.

Manon shot her a look. “You didn’t have to be that harsh.”

“I wasn’t,” Lara replied. “She was worse.”

You mumbled into Manon’s shoulder, “I can hear you.” you threaded carefully now .. "And it hurt .."

Lara smirked faintly. “Good.”

Manon sighed again.

And you?

You stayed right there between them.

A little embarrassed.

A little calmer. (+ BONUS ) -

The moment you got home, the energy in the apartment shifted.

The door clicked shut behind you, and suddenly everything from the evening hit at once the noise, the tension, the way Lara had looked at you when she finally pulled you aside.

Lara didn’t say a word.

She just exhaled, already peeling off her jacket as she walked past. “I’m going upstairs,” she muttered. “I need to change.”

And just like that, she disappeared up the stairs. No lingering. No checking in.

Just Lara.

You stood in the hallway for a second too long, arms folded loosely around yourself. Then Manon spoke gently from behind you.

“Hey.”

You turned. She was already sitting on the couch, relaxed in that way she always was when she decided the situation was over for now. One arm draped along the backrest, the other patting the space beside her.

“Come here,” she said softly.

You hesitated.

Not because you didn’t want to. Because you weren’t sure what version of you she was about to deal with.

Manon noticed immediately. Her expression softened. “I’m not upset with you,” she added. “Just sit with me.”

That did it.

You crossed the room and sank down beside her, still a little stiff. For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Then Manon shifted closer slowly, deliberately, until her shoulder pressed lightly against yours.

“Lara didn't mean that personally love,” she murmured.

Your shoulders dropped a fraction without you meaning them to.

Manon’s hand came up and started tracing slow, calming circles along your back steady, repetitive, grounding.

Not demanding. Not correcting. Just… there, like a girlfriend should.

You exhaled shakily, staring down at your hands. “She was mad at me,” you said quietly.

“She was firm,” Manon corrected gently. “There’s a difference.”

You frowned slightly.

Manon tilted her head. “Do you know why she did it?”

“…Because I was being annoying.”

Manon gave a small hum, slightly smiling despite herself. She wasn't being mocking. Not agreeing, not disagreeing. “Because you were overwhelmed and taking it out on everyone in the room.”

Silence.

Your fingers curled slightly into your sleeves. “I didn’t mean to ruin it,” you muttered.

“I know,” Manon said immediately, her hand still moving in slow, soothing circles. “You don’t do it on purpose.”

That made something in your chest loosen a little.

Manon shifted again, pulling you just a bit closer so your shoulder rested properly against hers.

“You don’t have to perform to be noticed,” she said softly. “You don’t have to act out to be held.”

Your throat tightened. “I already see you,” she added. That landed. Quietly.

From upstairs, you heard faint movement Lara settling in, the sound of a door closing.

But down here, everything was still. Manon’s hand never stopped moving.

After a moment, she leaned her head lightly against yours. She pulled you into her arms, making you lie down on her chest softly.

“I think she scared me a bit,” you admitted quietly.

Manon didn’t hesitate. she chuckled softly. “She’s intense. But she’s not unsafe with you.”A pause.

Then, softer: “And I’m right here. I know Lara can be a bit rough sometimes. I'm not saying im better then her." Manon chuckled softly once again. "-But i'll always be here and comfort you after her rough handling."

That made your eyes sting a little, though you didn’t say it.

Instead, you shifted closer on your own this time, resting more fully into her chest, more relaxed and soft. Instead of being stiff and awkward.

Manon adjusted instantly, like it was second nature, wrapping an arm more securely around you steady, protective, warm. She placed a kiss on the top of your head.

“There,” she murmured. “Stay here for a while.”

And for once, you didn’t argue.

You'd been pacing the apartment for what felt like hours, the clock ticking past midnight. Rehearsals had dragged on again, Manon and Lara, buried in their group's endless dance routines and vocal runs. At 29 and 26, they thrived on the chaos, the sweat and rhythm that kept their world spinning. But you? At 19, with hormones that hit like a freight train, the empty space beside you in bed was torture.

You tried distractions. Scrolled through your phone, blasted music, even attempted a cold shower. Nothing worked. The ache between your thighs built slow at first, a warm throb that turned insistent, demanding. Your fingers had wandered once or twice, brushing over the damp fabric of your shorts, but it wasn't enough. You needed themtheir hands, their mouths, the way they knew exactly how to unravel you.

The door finally clicked open around 1 a.m., and there they were: Manon, tall and commanding with her dark hair tied back, still in her rehearsal tank top that clung to her curves from the day's exertion. Lara followed, shorter but no less magnetic, her dark skin flushed, ponytail loose and messy. They kicked off their shoes, dropping bags by the door, and their eyes landed on you immediately. You were curled on the couch in just an oversized tee and those shorts, legs pressed together, biting your lip.

"Hey, baby," Lara said first, her voice soft but teasing as she crossed the room. She dropped beside you, hand immediately finding your knee. "Missed us that much?"

Manon hung back a second, leaning against the wall with a knowing smirk. Her green eyes scanned you, sharp as ever. "Looks like she did more than miss us." She pushed off, sauntering over to kneel in front of the couch, her hands settling on your thighs. "What's got you all fidgety, y/n? Tell us."

You squirmed under their attention, heat flooding your cheeks—and lower. "You were gone forever. I... I couldn't wait." The words tumbled out, needy and raw. Your body betrayed you, hips shifting just a little, seeking friction.

Lara chuckled low, her fingers tracing up your inner thigh, close enough to make you gasp but not quite there. "Poor thing. All alone and aching?" She leaned in, lips brushing your ear. "We can fix that."

Manon's grip tightened, parting your legs gently but firmly. She looked up at you, that dominant edge in her gaze making your pulse race. "Yeah? Show us how bad it is." Her thumb pressed against the edge of your shorts, right where the heat pulsed hottest. You whimpered, nodding, and she hooked her fingers in the waistband, tugging them down slow. The cool air hit your bare skin, and you were already slick, embarrassingly so.

"God, look at you," Manon murmured, approval lacing her tone. She didn't waste time her mouth followed, hot and sure, tongue flicking against your clit in a single, deliberate stroke that had your back arching. You cried out, hands flying to her hair, but Lara caught your wrists, pinning them above your head with one hand while the other slipped under your shirt to tease a nipple.

"Easy," Lara whispered, her free hand joining Manon's between your legs. Her fingers circled your entrance, dipping in just enough to coat them before sliding up to rub alongside Manon's tongue. The dual sensation Manon's firm laps and Lara's slick presses sent sparks up your spine. You were soaked, hips bucking involuntarily, chasing more.

They worked you like they did everything else: in sync, relentless. Manon sucked gently on your clit, her hands spreading you wider, while Lara's fingers finally pushed inside two at once, curling just right to hit that spot that made stars burst behind your eyelids. "That's it, let go," Lara breathed, her voice husky now, eyes dark with want. She released your wrists to kiss you deep, swallowing your moans as Manon hummed against you, the vibration pushing you closer.

The build was fast, your body wound tight from hours of waiting. Lara's thumb found your clit when Manon shifted lower, tongue thrusting in alongside her fingers, and it was too much. You shattered, thighs clamping around Manon's head, cries muffled into Lara's mouth as waves crashed over you. They didn't stop, drawing it out until you trembled, oversensitive and boneless.

Manon pulled back first, lips glistening, a satisfied grin on her face. "Better?" She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, climbing onto the couch to pull you into her lap.

Lara nuzzled your neck, fingers still lazily stroking inside you. "We're not done yet, though. Your turn to help us unwind."

You nodded weakly, already stirring again under their touch. The night was young, and they were just getting started. -

The bedroom was dim, lit only by the soft glow of the bedside lamp, casting warm shadows over the rumpled sheets. You'd been teasing them all evening. little touches, lingering glances, until the air hummed with tension. Manon and Lara exchanged a look, their dark skin flushed from the wine and the heat building between you three, pulled you onto the bed first, her strong arms wrapping around your waist as she settled against the headboard. At 29, she moved with that effortless control, her lighter brown skin warm against your back as you leaned into her chest, her heartbeat steady under your shoulders.

Lara, 26 and done with the slow build, stood at the foot of the bed, buckling the strap-on with deliberate snaps. Her dark eyes locked on yours, a smirk curling her full lips. "Enough playing nice," she said, voice low and rough. She climbed onto the mattress, grabbing your ankles to yank you flat on your back. still pressed against Manon's front. Manon's hands slid down immediately, gripping your thighs and forcing them apart wide, exposing you completely. The cool air hit your already slick folds, making you shiver.

"Look at her, Manon," Lara murmured, kneeling between your spread legs. Her dark skin gleamed under the light as she lined up the thick silicone, the tip brushing your entrance. She gathered your wetness with a slow drag, coating it fully, and you whimpered, hips twitching. "So fucking desperate already. Bet you've been dripping for us all night, haven't you? Little slut can't even wait."

You nodded, breath hitching, but words failed as she pushed in hard, no mercy. The stretch burned sweet, filling you inch by inch until she bottomed out, setting a rough pace right away. Each thrust slammed deep, the harness grinding against her own clit, but her focus was all on you. Manon's arms pinned yours down, her breath hot on your neck as she held you open, thighs trembling in her grasp.

"Take it," Lara growled, hips snapping forward. "That's all you're good for right now, isn't it? Just a needy hole for mommy to fuck." Her dirty words hit like sparks, humiliating and hot, making your walls clench around the strap. You were soaked, the wet sounds echoing with every rough plunge, your body jolting against Manon's chest.

The rhythm built brutal, Lara's dark curls bouncing as she drove in harder. "Say it. Tell mommy how much you love it."

"L-Lara" you gasped, the name slipping out in the haze, raw and unintended.

She paused mid-thrust, eyes flashing with something wicked pleasure, not anger. A grin spread across her face. "Oh, baby. Try again." She pulled back almost all the way, then slapped your cunt sharp and stinging, the impact jolting through you like electricity. You cried out, a mix of shock and pleasure, clit throbbing from the hit. "That's for forgetting your manners."

She rammed back in, pace turning punishing, hips pistoning as she chased your unraveling. Manon's free hand snaked down now, fingers finding your clit, swollen and sensitive from the slap. She circled it firm, matching Lara's rhythm, pinching just enough to make you arch. "Come on baby .." Manon whispered in your ear as she held you steady. "Let go for us."

The dual assault broke you fast, Lara's deep, relentless rams stretching you wide, Manon's skilled fingers rubbing you to the edge. You shattered with a sob. walls pulsing around the strap as ecstasy ripped through you, body shaking against Manon's hold. They drew it out, Lara grinding slow through your spasms, Manon easing the pressure until you went limp, panting.

Lara eased out gently then, unbuckling the harness and tossing it aside. She slid up beside you, her dark hand stroking your hair as Manon shifted to cradle you fully, pulling the covers over all three of you. "Are you okay love? Did i go too harsh on you?" Lara murmured, pressing soft kisses to your temple. "You took that so well either way .." You hummed softly, you knew Lara got a bit carried away.

Manon grabbed a warm cloth from the nightstand, wiping you clean with careful touches. her lighter fingers soothing the sting. "Rest now," she said, voice soft as she tucked you between them. Lara fetched water, holding the glass to your lips while Manon massaged your thighs, easing the ache. They sandwiched you close, whispers of praise filling the quiet until sleep tugged you under, safe and spent.

an - Okay i locked in for the smut and forgot to fucking section it out .. As a dyslexic person myself i am so sorry if theres any wrong/mispelled words. I wrote this in swedish and translated it, im sorry if the words were messed up in any way...

[ryann-1111]

girls 🥰🥰

[seigfriiedd]

˙ . ࿔˙— AN EATER. young miko

masterlist

chapter two

word count 6.5k

warnings smut, oral sex, fingering

"you have to wear the red dress. she won't be able to take her eyes off you. then you can get married and i'd see her every day," adelina said, completely serious, chin resting in her palm as she sprawled across blyth's bed like she belonged there.

blyth paused mid change, looking at her reflection in the mirror before glancing over her shoulder. "you're actually insane."

"i'm right." adelina shrugged, unbothered. "you're not," blyth shot back, tugging her jeans into place. "it's not a date. and i'm definitely not marrying her."

adelina scoffed like she'd been personally offended. "why not? and yes it is. she literally stared at you all night."

blyth ignored that, turning back to her dresser instead. she reached for her earrings, slipping them on with practiced ease before stepping back toward her vanity. her movements were calm, routine, like she was grounding herself in something normal.

"lina," she started, her voice softer now, catching her sister's reflection in the mirror. "i love you. like, a lot. but she's definitely—" she hesitated, searching for the right words and landing somewhere imperfect. "she's very experienced."

adelina blinked. "okay? and?"

blyth exhaled, lightly dusting blush across her cheeks. "and i've been with people like that. the ones who look at you like that. nine times out of ten they're either not over someone, not serious, or just not looking for anything real."

she reached for her phone, already rolling her eyes at herself before she even picked it up. "exactly what i mean—" she held it up. adelina sat up, taking the phone, scanning the messages. blyth crossed her arms loosely, watching her.

"she's literally flirting. not even trying to hide it. she thinks i don't notice." adelina handed the phone back, expression flat. "or maybe she just likes you."

blyth gave her a look immediately. "be serious."

"i am." adelina flopped back onto the bed again, completely at ease. "i think you're judging her off one bad interaction."

"it wasn't just bad, she was rude."

"and she apologized." blyth opened her mouth to respond then stopped. because frankly, she did.

the silence that followed was brief, but enough. "i still think you should wear the dress," adelina added, like that was the conclusion to everything.

blyth shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips despite herself. "you're not letting that go, huh?"

"nope."

blyth grabbed her bag, giving herself one last look in the mirror before stepping away from the vanity. "are you staying over or does mom want you home?"

"i'm staying," adelina answered immediately, a grin spreading across her face. "i wanna be here when miko comes." blyth rolled her eyes as she adjusted her bag on her shoulder. "of course you do."

"i'm serious."

"be my guest then." she left the room, heading downstairs as the house quieted around her. the moment she reached the kitchen, arnold was already there, weaving between her legs with a loud, expectant meow.

"okay, okay, i know," blyth muttered, opening the fridge and grabbing his food.

he only got louder. more persistent.

"you act like i don't feed you," she added under her breath, scooping his food into the bowl as he circled her feet like she was running late on something important.

a knock sounded at the door and blyth froze for half a second, her stomach flipping so fast it almost annoyed her. she glanced down at arnold weaving around her legs, then back at the door like it might disappear if she waited long enough.

"hold on," she called, already moving.

arnold followed immediately, meowing louder now, jumping at her hand when he saw the food. "relax," she muttered, nudging him back with her foot as she reached for the handle.

she opened the door and there she was. flowers in one hand. a coach bag in the other. standing there like she had put actual thought into this. blyth's eyebrows lifted, just slightly.

okay..

"hi," miko said, a little awkward, her eyes flicking between blyth, the flowers, and the cat trying to escape.

"hi," she answered, calmer than she felt. miko held the flowers out. "i didn't know what you liked so i just—"

"guessed," blyth finished, a small smile breaking through despite herself. she took them, fingers brushing the stems, glancing down at the colors. they were actually pretty.

"thank you."

miko's shoulders dropped just a little. "you can come in," blyth added, stepping aside, blocking arnold again before he could run out.

miko walked in, taking a quick look around before handing her the bag. "and the jacket. i said i'd replace it." blyth looked at the bag, then at her. "you didn't have to."

"i wanted to," miko said easily.

blyth nodded, setting the flowers on the counter, leaning against it for a second. her eyes lingered again. long enough to notice the tattoos, the way miko held herself, the way she was trying not to look nervous.

she pushed off the counter before it got obvious.

"i was about to feed my cat before he starts acting crazy," she said, crouching down and pouring the food into arnold's bowl.

"you can sit." miko shifted slightly, moving further into the room. footsteps came from the stairs. adelina appeared mid step, stopping the second she saw her. eyes widening slightly.

there was a pause. brief, but noticeable. then it smoothed over just as quickly. "hi," she greeted, calm, like she hadn't just walked into something unexpected although it was.

"hi," miko replied, a little softer now. blyth didn't turn around, still focused on her cat, completely unaware of the way the air shifted behind her.

miko moved over to the couch, following behind adelina. then her attention drifted again. unintentional, but steady. following the curve of blyth's back as she crouched, the way her jeans fit snug at her hips, the slight lift of her top revealing a soft strip of skin.

a glimpse of a small lilac flower tattoo resting along her lower back. soft. delicate. sitting right between dermals that caught the light. miko didn't even realize she was staring. adelina however, noticed.

her eyes flicked from miko to blyth, then back again, something knowing and amused settling into her expression. she didn't say anything, just watched for a second longer than necessary.

miko blinked, like she felt it, her focus snapping away too late. her jaw tightened slightly, a faint flush creeping up her neck.

blyth stood then, turning around, brushing her hands together. her gaze moved between them.

adelina, sitting a little too still, and miko, noticeably flushed, avoiding eye contact. her brows pulled together.

"...what?" adelina shook her head easily, already composed again. "nothing." blyth narrowed her eyes slightly, unconvinced, but didn't press.

"i'm ready to go," she muttered instead, already moving toward the door, grabbing her shoes.miko nodded quickly. "yeah."

adelina stayed where she was, holding back a grin as miko glanced back at her one more time before they exited the house. a faint "i'll be back later." slipped from blyth as the door closed behind them.

“was my sister being weird?" blyth asked as they walked into the restaurant, her voice light but her eyes searching.

miko looked down for a second, hands tucked into the pockets of her jacket, the image flashing back too quickly. adelina's expression, sharp and knowing, catching her in a moment she didn't even realize she was in.

a flicker of embarrassment settled in her chest again.

she shook it off, glancing up at blyth. "no," she murmured, a small smile forming. "your sister seems really nice. you told me she's a fan, no?" she reached forward, pulling the door open for her."yeah," blyth stepped inside, glancing around. "which is a bit questioning, no offense. i thought it was because your music is, like sad or something.

"miko frowned slightly, tilting her head. "you've never heard my music?" blyth shook her head, unapologetic.

miko let out a quiet breath, something between disbelief and amusement, before stepping up to the hostess. "hi, reservation for victoria."blyth lingered a step behind, her eyes moving slowly around the space. everything felt too polished. too intentional.

soft lighting, glass walls, the ocean stretching out just beyond them like part of the decor. this wasn't what she expected. she thought it'd be something simple. something easy. burgers, maybe. something she didn't have to think about.

she followed quietly as they were led outside, the air shifting cooler, touched with salt. the sound of waves settled somewhere beneath the conversation around them.

it was pretty.too pretty for something that was supposed to be casual. miko pulled out her chair without thinking. blyth paused for half a second before sitting, still taking everything in.

"this is considered having lunch to you?" she asked, brows slightly furrowed as she looked up at her. miko smiled faintly, sitting across from her. "not usually," she admitted. her fingers traced the edge of the menu, eyes flicking up briefly.

blyth's jaw clenched, her gaze drifting past everything else, landing on the ocean like it could steady her. the waves moved slow, repetitive, nothing like the tight feeling building in her chest.

"i really appreciate this," she started, her voice controlled, careful. "but this seems like a date." her fingers curled slightly against her lap.

"and i get that you apologized, and you bought me a new jacket. which i'm grateful for. but this..." she gestured lightly around them, the view, the table. "this feels like something else." she finally looked back at her.

"which isn't what it's supposed to be. and that bothers me." the words sat between them, heavier than the ocean air. miko didn't respond right away. her expression didn't shift much, but something quieter settled behind her eyes.she leaned back slightly in her chair, exhaling through her nose like she was choosing her words instead of reacting.

"i didn't mean for it to feel like that," she said after a moment, her voice low, steady. her fingers tapped once against the table before going still.

"i wasn't trying to make you uncomfortable." blyth held her gaze, searching for something. an excuse, maybe, or proof that she was right. miko tilted her head slightly, brows pulling together just enough to show she was thinking.

"la neta es que no hago las cosas a medias." she added. "si voy a inventarle algo a alguien, lo hago bien." there was no teasing in her tone. no performance. just something honest, almost frustratingly so.

blyth's lips pressed together, her shoulders tightening before she looked away again, back toward the water. "well, it feels like a date," she muttered, quieter this time.

miko nodded once, like she was accepting that, even if she didn't fully agree. "then we can make it not feel like one," she replied simply. that made blyth glance back at her.

"how?"

miko shrugged lightly, the corner of her mouth lifting just a little. "you can keep being mean to me." blyth blinked, caught off guard. and despite herself, a small laugh slipped out. "i'm not mean to you," blyth denied, rolling her eyes.

"you are a little," miko countered, tilting her head, a teasing smile tugging at her lips. "mentirosa. estás intentando provocarme para que sea mala onda," blyth shot back, barely holding in a smile.

"i'm not," miko murmured, leaning back slightly. "i'm just being honest." blyth opened her mouth to respond, something already forming, but the waitress stepped in before she could.

miko ordered first, easy, like she'd done it a hundred times before. she didn't even glance at the menu, just listed things off casually. blyth noticed that.

when it was her turn, she hesitated, eyes scanning over words that all blurred together. everything sounded expensive. too curated. like it wasn't meant for someone like her.

she settled on something simple. chocolate pancakes and a milkshake. the waitress took their menus and left, the sound of her footsteps fading into the rest of the restaurant.

and just like that, it was quiet again. blyth turned her attention back to the ocean, watching the waves roll in and out, steady and distant.

miko tried not to look at her. but it was hard not to. her gaze drifted again soft this time, less obvious, but still there. the way the light hit blyth's face, the way her hair moved slightly in the breeze. blyth turned suddenly, catching her.

their eyes met.

"how many tattoos do you have?" she asked, like the question had been sitting in her head for a while. her gaze dropped to miko's hands, tracing over the ink there, then flicking up to her neck.

miko smiled faintly, thinking. "i honestly can't count them all." blyth let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head a little. "is your whole body, like covered?"

miko glanced down at her own hands for a second, then back up. "kind of."

blyth's brows lifted slightly, curiosity flickering across her face before she could hide it. "can i see them?" the question slipped out before she could second guess it.

miko didn't hesitate.

she pulled her hoodie off in one smooth motion, like it wasn't a big deal, like she hadn't just shifted the space between them. underneath was a simple white shirt, slightly fitted, sleeves just enough to show more of the ink beneath.

she extended her arms across the table, turning them slightly. blyth leaned in without thinking.

her fingers brushed against miko's skin, light at first, tracing the lines of the tattoos like she was trying to understand them rather than just look.

miko went still. goosebumps rose instantly along her arms, her breath catching just slightly, but she didn't pull away.

"these are so beautiful," blyth murmured, her voice softer now, distracted, like she forgot where they were. her touch lingered a second longer than necessary. "is this it?" she asked, still studying every detail.

miko shook her head faintly. "no, i have some on my back. and my torso." blyth looked up then, a little surprised, her eyes flicking over her like she was trying to picture it.

"do you just get used to the pain or something?" miko let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head. "nope. my back was the worst. no numbing cream or anything."

blyth hummed, her fingers slowly pulling away, though not immediately. like she realized what she was doing a second too late. she leaned back into her seat, folding her hands together in her lap, something thoughtful settling over her expression.

"i have one tattoo," she admitted after a moment. "on my lower back."

miko's gaze shifted slightly, already knowing. "i want another," blyth continued, glancing down at the table. "but i lost contact with the girl who did my first one."

the words sat there for half a second. "i could do it for you," miko offered, almost immediately. blyth's head snapped up.

"you can tattoo?" there was a hint of disbelief in her voice, her eyes scanning her again like she was reevaluating everything she thought she knew. miko nodded, a small smile forming. "that's really cool," she admitted.

miko shrugged, suddenly a little less sure of herself under that attention. "thanks," she mumbled, fingers playing with the edge of a napkin.

"that means you know how to draw then?" blyth asked, resting her chin in her palm, watching her now.

miko hummed softly, her eyes drifting back to blyth like they kept doing without permission. "yeah. it's my favorite thing to do." she paused, a small smile tugging at her lips. "i like drawing people."

it went quiet for a second.

not awkward. just still.

blyth watched her, actually listening, something softer settling into her expression before she smiled slowly. "you're gonna have to show me your drawings next time."

miko's eyes flicked up instantly.

"next time?" she repeated, tilting her head slightly, a teasing edge slipping into her voice now. "are you allowing me to see you again, blyth?"

blyth held her gaze for a second, then looked away, reaching for her drink like she needed something to do.

"maybe," she said, casual. but the small smile she tried to hide gave her away. miko leaned back in her chair, that answer sitting with her a little too well. "i'll take that," she murmured, more to herself than anything.

blyth glanced back at her. "don't get your hopes up."

"too late."

blyth rolled her eyes, but this time she didn't fight the smile. the waitress came back balancing both plates like it was second nature, setting them down gently between them. the smell hit immediately. warm, sweet, rich enough to make blyth forget whatever she was about to say.

and yeah. the conversation kind of died there.

blyth didn't even try to talk. she picked up her fork and took a bite and immediately paused, eyes widening just a little before she looked back down at her plate.

suddenly she wasn't upset that miko chose this restaurant anymore. miko noticed, smiling faintly to herself as she started eating too.

and somehow that turned into them walking along the beach. blyth still didn't know how that happened. but she didn't say no.

now the sand shifted under her feet with every step, the air cooler, brushing against her skin, carrying that faint salty smell. the sound of the waves was louder out here, steady, grounding.

miko walked beside her, holding both their shoes in one hand, her other hand tucked loosely into her pocket. blyth's phone buzzed. she pulled it out, already knowing.

lina🫰: are you kissing yet??

she let out a quiet, annoyed breath through her nose, shaking her head as she turned the screen off completely.

"she's insane," she muttered, more to herself than anything. miko glanced over, brows lifting slightly. "your sister?" blyth nodded, slipping her phone into her back pocket. "yeah."

"i like her."

blyth let out a small scoff, glancing sideways at her. "of course you do." miko smiled a little at that, looking ahead again, her shoulder brushing lightly against blyth's for half a second before they adjusted their steps.

blyth looked at her. not quick. lingering.

taking her in properly this time. the way her short hair moved with the breeze, the way she walked like she wasn't trying to impress anyone, like she was comfortable.

then she blinked, looking away.

"where does victoria come from?" she asked, breaking the quiet, her tone casual but curious. "is that like a code name so people don't bother you while you eat or something?"

miko let out a soft snort, shaking her head, a smile slipping through. "no," she said, glancing at her. "it's just my middle name."

she shifted the shoes in her hand, adjusting her grip. "only family and close friends call me that. my first name is maria. but you can call me vicky." blyth nodded slowly, her gaze dropping to the sand as she walked, watching her steps for a second before shrugging lightly.

"my name's just blyth."

she said it like that was the end of it.

miko rolled her eyes, a quiet huff of a laugh leaving her as she bumped her shoulder gently against blyth's. "i really enjoy your teasing and sarcasm."

her tone was dry, but there was something playful sitting underneath it, her accent thicker now, wrapping around the words. blyth glanced at her, lips twitching. "good. because you're gonna get a lot of it."

"i figured," miko replied, nodding once.

they drifted a little closer to the water, the waves brushing near their feet now, cold enough to make blyth flinch slightly as it touched her toes. miko noticed. "cold?"

"obviously," blyth shot back, but she didn't move away. miko smiled to herself, looking down for a second before her expression shifted. just slightly.

"you don't like me very much, do you?" she asked. it wasn't defensive. not joking either. just honest.

blyth blinked, caught off guard by how direct it was. she slowed her steps just a little, looking at her, then ahead, then back again.

she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, buying herself a second. "i don't know you," she answered finally, honest, her voice quieter than before.

miko nodded once, like she expected that.

"but—" blyth added, shifting her weight slightly as they kept walking, her fingers brushing against each other in a small, absent motion. "you're not what i thought."

miko's brows lifted just a little, turning her head more toward her now. "is that good or bad?" blyth met her gaze.

and held it. the wind pushed lightly against her hair, the sound of the ocean filling the space between them. "i don't know enough to decide that," she said. but her voice wasn't as sharp anymore. and neither was her expression.

miko looked away for a second, tongue swiping slowly across her bottom lip like she was thinking. before she exhaled softly.

"okay," she murmured, glancing back at her, voice lower now, a little rougher around the edges. "déjame ayudarte a decidir eso."

before blyth could even process it, miko reached for her hand. not fast. not rushed. just certain.

her fingers wrapped around blyth's gently, stopping her from walking any further. the shift was small, but it changed everything. the space, the air, the way blyth's chest tightened just slightly. blyth stilled.

her eyes searched miko's face immediately, sharp, almost defensive. like she was waiting to catch her joking, waiting for something that proved this wasn't real.

but there was nothing. no smirk. no teasing. just her. blyth's gaze dropped to her lips. soft. pink. slightly parted. and way too close. miko noticed.

of course she did.

her stomach flipped, something warm and nervous settling low in her chest as she watched blyth hesitate. watched the way her breathing shifted, just barely.

this was the moment. and it scared her a little. because she didn't know which way it would go. but still, she took a step forward. slow. careful.

close enough that blyth could feel the warmth of her, the faint brush of her breath. not forcing. just letting her know. blyth's heart picked up, faster than she wanted to admit. this was stupid. it would be just a kiss. just one.

the ocean breeze pushed through miko's hair, strands falling messily across her forehead, catching the light in a way that made her look even better. effortless, unbothered, unreal in a way blyth didn't like thinking too hard about.

her grip tightened slightly around miko's hand. then she stepped forward too. closing the space just enough.

miko's breath hitched quietly, her other hand loosening around the shoes she'd been holding, her focus completely gone now.

her eyes lifted, softer this time, searching blyth's face like she was asking without saying it. blyth swallowed. "is this you helping me decide?" she whispered, her voice barely there, breath mixing with miko's.

miko nodded once, slow.

"if that's okay with you." that was all it took. blyth closed the distance in one quick movement, her lips crashing against miko's before she could think twice about it.

the shoes slipped from miko's hand, hitting the sand softly, forgotten immediately as her hands moved. one finding blyth's waist, pulling her in close, firm, like she didn't want even an inch between them.

blyth let out a small, surprised breath against her lips at the sudden pull. but she didn't pull away. not even close. the kiss wasn't soft nor was it hesitant.

it was fast, hungry. like something that had been building without either of them realizing just how much. all that tension, all the glances,—it hit all at once.

blyth's fingers slipped from miko's hand, moving up instead, threading into her hair, tugging slightly, pulling her closer like there was still space left to close.

miko responded immediately, tightening her hold at her waist, grounding her there, keeping her right where she wanted her. like she wasn't letting her go. like she didn't want to.

miko smiled into the kiss, like she couldn't help it. the feeling of blyth's fingers in her hair. tugging, holding. went straight to her head. she let herself lean into it, let herself want it.

she deepened the kiss. her hand tightened at blyth's waist as her tongue slipped past her lips, slow at first, then more certain. like she'd been waiting for permission and finally got it. blyth responded just as quickly.

like she wasn't thinking anymore. like she didn't want to. the kiss shifted, heavier now, messier, all that tension finally spilling over into something real. something they couldn't take back.

blyth slowly pulled away first. and miko followed just enough to catch her bottom lip between hers, tugging lightly before letting go.

for a second, they just stood there. breathing the same air. miko's lips curved into a small, satisfied smile, her chest rising a little quicker than before.

blyth blinked. once. twice. and then reality hit her all at once. she pulled back slightly, eyes darting around, suddenly aware of everything. the open beach, the people in the distance, the fact that they were very much not alone.

her face flushed instantly. and she could feel it. the slight smear of gloss at the edge of her lips, the warmth still lingering where miko had just been.

she avoided looking at her. completely. because when she did finally glance. miko was still looking at her like that. like she wasn't done. like she didn't want to be. blyth dropped her gaze quickly, landing on the ground and frowned.

"they're covered in sand!" she complained, crouching down immediately, grabbing their shoes and brushing them off like that was the most important thing right now.

miko just hovered above her, amused. a little obsessed, honestly, with how fast blyth could flip the switch like they weren't just eating each other's faces.

"these are my favorite shoes," blyth added, dusting them off aggressively. she shoved miko lightly with her shoulder as she stood back up, but there was no real attitude behind it. miko barely moved, a small smile still sitting on her lips. "i'll buy you new ones."

blyth shot her a look instantly. "stop trying to throw your money around." she rolled her eyes, shaking her head, handing her pair back. miko didn't argue. just watched her. like she was trying to memorize something.

blyth glanced around again, the sky shifting into that soft golden blue, the sun already dipping lower than she expected. "jesus. what time is it?" she muttered, pulling her phone out.

her eyes widened. "shit." messages. a lot of them. from her mom. some from adelina. she scrolled quickly, lips parting slightly. "she's probably starving."

miko shifted a little, finally pulling her attention away from blyth long enough to think. "do you want to get her something? i can—"

"no." blyth cut her off immediately. firm. quick. not even looking at her. "i could pay for it."

the silence that followed was small, but noticeable. miko pressed her lips together, holding back the instinct to argue, instead just nodding once.

"okay."

blyth stared at her phone for another second before exhaling, locking it. "my sister went home," she said, quieter now. and suddenly, the air shifted again. subtle, but there. they both felt it. miko didn't say anything. just watched her.

waiting.

blyth let out a slow breath, her fingers tapping lightly against the side of her phone before she looked up at her. hesitation sat right there on her face. mixed with something else. "do you want to come over?"

in what felt like no time at all, they were back in miko's car. the door shut. the engine started. and neither of them really said anything. the tension didn't go away. it got worse.

thicker.

every red light felt longer than it should've been. every stop forced them to sit there, side by side, pretending to look anywhere but at each other.

blyth stared out the window, elbow pressed against the door, fingers resting against her lips like she could still feel it.

miko gripped the wheel a little tighter than necessary, jaw set, eyes forward. but her focus slipped every couple seconds. quick glances.

down to blyth's hands. her thighs. her mouth. back to the road. again. and again. the silence wasn't empty. it was full of everything they weren't saying.

when they pulled up to blyth's house, the car barely had time to settle before the engine cut. no "we're here." no pause.

blyth was already out of the car, miko right behind her, the door shutting harder than either of them meant it to. the walk to the front door felt too short. keys in. door open.

and the second it shut behind them it was immediate. miko's hand caught blyth's wrist, pulling her back just enough to turn her and her lips were on hers again.

harder this time. like she didn't want to wait anymore. blyth responded just as fast, hands grabbing at her hoodie, pulling her closer, their bodies colliding in a way that knocked the air out of both of them for a second.

the kiss was rough. hungrier. like everything from the car finally snapped loose.

hands everywhere. grabbing. pulling. figuring each other out all over again but faster now. miko's hoodie was the first to go, tugged over her head and dropped somewhere near the door without a second thought.

blyth's shirt followed not long after, dragged up and off, barely making it to the floor before it was forgotten.

they barely broke apart. only enough to breathe, to move, to get closer. "upstairs," blyth murmured against her lips, already pulling her with her. miko didn't argue.

didn't think. she just followed. hands still tangled together, kisses stolen in between movements, bumping into walls, laughing under their breath for half a second before diving right back in.

something dropped behind them. then something else. a trail forming without either of them noticing. by the time they reached the stairs, whatever restraint they had left was gone.

miko's hands slid under blyth's thighs in one smooth motion, lifting her like it was instinct, like she'd been wanting to do it since the second they got in the car.

blyth let out a soft breath at the sudden movement, chills running down her spine from miko's hands suddenly coming in contact with her bare legs. her hands immediately finding miko's shoulders to steady herself as her back pressed against the cold wall.

miko leaned her there for just a second. just enough to look at her. to be mesmerized by her beauty. "you're so beautiful," she whispered. blyth stared at her. flustered and unsure what to say.

then her mouth found her neck. slow open kisses that lingered longer than they needed to, dragging just slightly as she moved to her cleavage, then back up again, like she was learning her.

taking note of what caused every gasp and moan.

blyth's head tipped back against the wall, giving her more space without even realizing it, her fingers curling tighter into the fabric at miko's shoulders. her back arching against her.

"victoria—" her voice came out softer than she meant, a little breathless, breaking apart halfway through. miko barely reacted to the name. if anything, it pushed her further.

her grip tightened under blyth's thighs as she adjusted her hold, lifting her a little higher, more secure, before pulling back just enough to move again. step by step. still holding her. still close.

her lips didn't leave her skin for long. trailing from her neck to her jaw, brushing the corner of her mouth before stealing another quick kiss.

then moving again. up the stairs. like she knew exactly where she was going, even if she didn't.

the world narrowed down to the sound of their breathing, the soft thud of footsteps, and the quiet, barely there sounds slipping from blyth every time miko's mouth found her again.

miko pulled back just enough to breathe, her chest rising a little uneven as her eyes flicked around the hallway, trying to figure out where she was going.

blyth didn't give her much time to think.

her lips found miko's neck this time. soft at first, then a little sharper, teeth grazing just enough to pull a quiet, shaky breath from her. miko's head tipped back slightly, her grip tightening without even realizing it.

"cuál es." her voice came out uneven, breath catching halfway through as she glanced between the doors. blyth pulled back just enough to point, her own breathing heavier now. "that one." that was all miko needed.

she moved immediately, adjusting her hold, one arm secure under blyth's ass while the other reached for the handle. she pushed the door open, stepping inside without breaking pace, then kicked it shut behind her.

the sound was soft. but final. she crossed the room in a few quick steps and lowered blyth onto the bed, her hands lingering for just a second before she pulled back.

just enough space to look at her again. and then her shirt was gone. one quick motion, tossed somewhere behind her, forgotten instantly.

blyth's gaze dropped without hesitation. slow. taking her in.

her lips parted slightly, her eyes tracing over defined lines, the curve of her waist, then catching on the ink that spread across her skin. a cherry blossom tree winding from beneath her sweats, stretching up along her ribs, blooming across her chest toward her collarbone.

miko leaned forward again, drawn right back in, her weight pressing into the bed as blyth gave into it, falling back against the mattress.

her hands came up immediately. curious. slow. her fingertips traced along the ink, following each line like she needed to memorize it, like she needed to feel it to believe it was real.

miko's breath hitched quietly at the contact, her body reacting before she could stop it. and then everything shifted again. in one quick movement, miko was on her back.

blyth straddling her.

her hair falling forward slightly, her hands planted on either side of her for balance as she looked down at her.

miko's chest rose faster now, something restless building in her, anticipation curling tight in her stomach, pulling her further in. she reached for her. but blyth didn't let her.

not yet. she slipped off the bed instead, slow, deliberate, her fingers hooking into the waistband of miko's sweats.

miko watched her, eyes dark, jaw tightening slightly as she lifted her hips just enough to help, her hands gripping the sheets beneath her.

blyth dragged them down, steady, unhurried, like she knew exactly what she was doing. like she was enjoying it.

the rest of her own clothes were already gone. left somewhere along the stairs, scattered pieces of everything that led them here.

blyth's hands slowly reached for her back. unclasping her bra and allowing it to slowly slip off. she discarded it, letting it be forgotten somewhere on her floor. the cool air dancing around her skin making her nipples harden. miko stared. lips parted as she sat up. reversing the roles again.

blyth's hair spread out against her bed. her arms laid against each side of her face. miko's mouth lingered, brushing her boobs. building the growing ache in blyth's core. and her desperate need for her.

miko's lips wrapped around her breast. her right hand playing with the other. eliciting a gasp from blyth. her fingers immediately tugged at her hair. guiding her head lower. where she needed her most.

miko smiled against her. kissing down her belly until she was in between her thighs. her mouth kissing and biting at the skin. marking her. blyth's brows furrowed. frustrated with the amount of teasing.

she bucked her hips forward in attempt to rush her. her panties damp from the tension that been building all day. the scent of her arousal driving miko crazy.

she pulled her panties to the side. two fingers opening her folds. the wetness glistening in the dimmed light. she slipped her finger into her wet heat. blyth gasped. her hips twitching at the new sensation.

she added another finger. curling them inside her. searching for the sensitive spot that'd get her going. blyth whimpered, covering her mouth quickly. shocked at the sound she just made. "no, no. me dejes oírte." miko pulled her hand away. interlocking their fingers instead.

her mouthed wrapped around her clit. extracting a guttural moan from blyth. her back arching off the bed. miko groaned at the taste of her. her tongue lapping at her with hunger and need in her eyes. absolutely devouring her like she hadn't eaten in ages.

"you still don't like me?" she murmured, picking up the pace in her fingers. adding a third. blyth moaned feeling the vibration of her words against her.

"sh-shut up." she stuttered, slowly wrapping her legs around miko's head. feeling her climax coming fast. her heart quickening as she moaned loudly. "keep them open." she demanded, glaring up at blyth.

her glistening fingers went to wrap around her thighs instead. forcing them apart. "vicky please." she begged, her breathing heavy. hips bucking, the overstimulation hitting her quickly. miko ignored her. sucking on her clit. feeling her climax approaching.

blyth cried out. practically riding her face as she slowly came undone. the feeling hit her in waves. hips twitching from the sensitivity and miko's mouth still wrapped around her. cleaning her up.

miko pulled away. staring at blyth. satisfied with the state she was in. her chin wet from blyth's juices. a proud look on her face as she licked her lips. "you taste so good." she groaned, moving up to meet blyth's lips. she tasted herself against miko's tongue. brows furrowing in the slightest.

blyth knew she'd probably regret this in the morning.

not in a dramatic, everything is over kind of way. but in that quiet, sinking realization that would hit when the room was empty again, when the noise faded, when it was just her and her thoughts replaying everything in fragments she didn't ask for.

she already knew herself well enough to see the pattern forming. the distance she'd create after. the excuses.

the way she'd try to convince herself it didn't mean more than it did. her eyes stayed on miko, searching her face again, like she was trying to decide something without saying it out loud. miko didn't push.

she just stayed there, close, steady, watching her the same way. like she was waiting, but not demanding anything. and that made it worse. because there was no pressure.

no expectation.

just a quiet, mutual understanding that whatever happened next wasn't accidental anymore. blyth swallowed, her fingers flexing slightly at her sides as she took a small breath in.

they were too deep in to pretend this was casual now.

chapter three

[starssaroundmyscarssblog]

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦.

pairing: 1994!liam gallagher x fem!reader

summary: in which liam finally gets his girlfriend all to himself, and he can't help but document the moment

word count: 1.1k

warnings: swearing (duh), oral (r!receiving), photography during sex

(LG MASTERLIST HERE)

the hotel room was dimly lit, the moon streaming in faint light through the gauzy curtains. his duffel bag was flung open on the little armchair in the corner, and your suitcase was tucked neatly into the top shelf of the wardrobe, everything unpacked into those little drawers with the hotel bible and hairdryer.

the tap flicked off in the bathroom and the light clicked off too, with the door opening and liam stepping out. he shut the door behind him with a soft click, and stopped in his tracks. his eyes first followed all the way up your legs, from those chunky mary janes that undid him every time to the lace tops of the stockings he lost his self restraint over. liam hadn’t looked at anything above your thighs before he breathed out, “fuck, baby.” you flushed under his heady stare, trying not to fidget but failing.

“d’you like it, then?” you asked quietly, tossing one curl over her shoulder. a nervous tick he’d learnt to notice, when you were overwhelmed by him or a crowd or anything you hadn’t planned out. 

“like it?” liam asked, trying desperately not to laugh at even the thought. you watched as he sank to his knees and drew your foot into his hands, slowly toying with the buckle of your shoes. he pulled one off and then the other, kissing his way up your calf and then pressing them to your knees. “baby, you look fucking edible all dolled up like this.” his kisses travelled further up you legs until his fingers were digging into your thighs and he was trying to bite the milky flesh there. you let out a shaky breath, all words lost. 

instead you threaded her hands into his hair, holding him where his mouth had moved further north and his breath was ghosting over your core. “all dressed up f’me, aren’t you.” a little nod, fingers tightening to tell him that yes, yes this was all for you and you know it you smug bastard. “And your little pussy’s all wet for me too, huh, baby? just from this? me looking at you?” a little moan escaped you at that, and you dared a look down just to see him staring up at you, going for an innocent grin but his thumb pressing at your clit through the lace of those tiny panties made it impossible to believe it. 

his thumb pressed there in little, tight circles he knew drove you crazy. “c’mon, baby,” he murmured, dropping his lips to press a little kiss right above his thumb. “know you want more.” then his index finger pressed right against you and pulled that tiny scrap of lace away. you could have sworn you saw his pupils dilate when he saw the stickiness tethering your cunt to your panties. “jesus,” he breathed out. then kissed away the little sticky string lightly, making you squirm. 

“liam,” you sighed, “please,” as those tender little kisses were bringing you closer and closer to the edge. you were absently grinding your hips up to meet those slow, oh so painfully slow strokes of his fingers when he pulled away entirely. you whined then, an undignified little sound that made him chuckle. liam stood up then, pushing himself right up and left you there, gasping for breath and desperately trying for any sort of friction there on the edge of the bed. 

it was instinct, really, to close your legs and press your thighs together in hopes of relieving the pressure. but liam’s voice stopped you dead, “no, baby, keep ‘em open f’me yeah?” he was rummaging around in his bag, and when he’d found what he was looking for he walked back over to you, licking the last of your wetness from his finger. 

then he held up that fucking camera, the polaroid one you’d bought him as a gift when oasis’ record deal came through. and at first he really had used it for proper photos - you, across from him in the first expensive restaurant he’d ever taken you to. then a few on that weekend away you two had taken before oasis started their first tour. and when you’d finally been able to join him for a few of their europe shows he’d been more than happy to take photos of whatever landmarks you’d seen together. but recently, over the last few nights, he’d begun to use it for purposes that made you flush.

it had been perfectly innocent the first time he’d asked, all those weeks ago before he left for france. it was just a few photos of you in the light blue lingerie he liked, because ‘six weeks is fucking ages being away from you, so i’ll need something to remember you by’. but these last few nights you’d noticed he’d been pulling it out more and more during sex. you’d initially put it down to the drugs and the booze, but now you weren’t so sure.

and then here you are again tonight, thighs held open by sheer force of willpower, while liam fiddled about with cleaning the lens. “you’re leaving in two days, baby,” he had then started to explain, “i’m just making the most of having you here.” he sank between your legs again, his thumb and index finger reaching to spread your pussy lips open, wetness glistening and beginning to pool out of you.

then liam raised up that stupid camera, and took the picture. 

then another of the finger bruised and bite marks he’d left on your thighs, and another of his hand on your tits and another of his thumb between your lips - that one had nearly undone him. that look in your eyes meant just for him, the way he could still feel your tongue pressed to the pad of his thumb when he looked it it, sitting still developing on the room desk with the other twenty he’d taken. 

you were beginning to feel drowsy now, so wrapped up in his touch and proximity and an overwhelming need to orgasm that he just wasn’t satisfying. “liam, c’mon,” you whined, trying to grab for the camera. he was going to protest, but one look at the way you were biting your lip and holding yourself so openly and he’d never put down the thing quick enough. 

“‘m sorry, baby,” he cooed as he settled down finally, mercifully between your legs with that look of determined confidence. “you’re just too fuckin’ pretty.” this he said between kisses to your cunt, as his fingers worked on pulling your panties down your legs, “and it’s all f’me.”

🪩⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊🎤