#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 four

word count 7.3k

blyth had actually enjoyed the festival. more than she'd expected to. watching doechii get handcuffed right in front of her and then somehow ending up hanging out with sabrina carpenter later might've been the highlight of the entire weekend.

but the morning after, her head was throbbing. and she definitely regretted a lot when she opened her phone to videos of her and miko all over tiktok and twitter.

she knew it was stupid to agree to go. and she wished she hadn't let herself get that drunk—hadn't let herself end up all over the girl she swore she didn't want.

that had been a week ago and people were still talking about it. even more now, that blyth was coming up as a model for ysl and miko was slowly becoming mainstreamed.

they hadn't even talked since that weekend. well—miko had tried. texting her about an idea to 'hangout' again.

blyth just.. didn't answer. left messages unopened, acted like they'd never even met. it was easier that way. cleaner. obviously, the singer was bothered. but she wasn't stupid. she knew where the silence was coming from.

still she didn't think the videos were even that bad.

yeah, blyth had been practically in her lap, hands wandering like she didn't know where to put them—but they'd just been talking. laughing. brushing lips in that barely there way that didn't mean anything.

and it wasn't like she'd actually enjoyed it. or the way blyth looked at her like she was the only person in the crowd. that's what she told mariana, anyway.

her best friend had just stared at her for a second. long enough to be annoying. before giving her that look. the one that said you're full of shit without needing to say it out loud.

because it was obvious miko liked her.

liked that blyth didn't fold immediately, didn't chase, didn't make it easy. liked the way she had to work for it. apparently, miko had a thing for being put in her place.

and blyth was very good at that.

she was sprawled across her couch now, one leg thrown over a pillow, the tv humming softly in the background. the pitt playing the newest episode she wasn't actually paying attention to. her focus was on her phone.

on the video miko had posted a day ago.

it was simple. nothing dramatic. just her sitting somewhere that looked like home. probably in puerto rico. sunlight cutting across the frame. her shirt had biaf<3 written across the chest, like a quiet hint at something unreleased. her grillz catching the light every time she smiled.

blyth watched it once.

then again.

and before she could stop herself—a third time, her thumb hovering like she might click into the comments, like she might check if people were seeing what she was seeing.

like she might find herself in there somehow. she exhaled slowly, dragging a hand over her face, already annoyed at herself.

this was exactly why she'd been ignoring her. because the second she let herself look too long, it stopped being easy to pretend she didn't care.

half of the comments were talking about how good she looked, the usual thirst comments flooding in. others were questioning the shirt, pointing things out and making theories like it meant something.

and blyth's name. over and over again. little references. screenshots from the festival. people connecting dots like it was their job.

astrid was laid out beside her, legs draped lazily over blyth's hamstrings like she'd claimed that half of the couch as her own. between the two of them taking up the entire L, eden had been exiled to the floor.

willingly, though.

blyth clicked her phone off with a quiet huff, tossing it onto the floor before looking back at the tv.

only to immediately frown.

"what the hell happened in the two minutes that i wasn't watching?" she complained, grabbing the remote and rewinding.

both girls groaned in unison. "are you serious?" astrid dragged out, dropping her head back dramatically.

"you were too busy admiring your girlfriend to know," eden added, completely unbothered as she reached into the box of rainbow goldfish.

"she's not my girlfriend. i don't even like her." blyth scrunched her face, leaning over just enough to steal the box right out of eden's hands.

"hey—"

blyth grabbed a handful like she'd earned it.

"yeah, definitely," astrid muttered, nudging her sister's side with her foot. "so what happened when you two snuck away from us, then?" blyth went silent for half a second. just enough to be suspicious.

"literally nothing," she said quickly. "i blacked out, and when i woke up she was on the couch, i was in the bedroom, and she was still wearing the same clothes. so was i." she shrugged, like that settled it.

"she was just trying to sober me up."

blyth paused. "i think i was crying in front of her," she added, grimacing as she dropped her head forward against the pillow under her. "which is actually the worst part. like so embarrassing."

eden snorted. astrid, on the other hand, went quiet for a second. just watching her.

"you cried," astrid repeated, slower this time—less teasing now, a little more concerned about just how drunk her sister had actually been. blyth groaned, already knowing where this was going.

"i think so," she admitted, scrunching her face. "when i went into the bathroom, i had tear stains on my face. and she didn't really tell me anything because we'd both already seen the videos posted of us, so..." she trailed off with a small shrug. "it was a little awkward."

she grabbed the remote again, eyes flicking back to the screen just as the scene picked up. "they're definitely fucking," she added flatly, pointing at the tv like that was the more important conversation now.

eden didn't even look. "have you guys talked at all?" she asked, still fully locked into blyth's mess of a situationship.

"nope." blyth shook her head, passing the goldfish up to astrid without looking. astrid took them, but her attention stayed on blyth.

"why not!?" eden pushed, sitting up a little, like she physically couldn't let it go.

blyth exhaled through her nose, eyes still on the screen even though it was obvious she wasn't actually paying attention anymore. "because it was stupid," she said. "that whole week was stupid."

"that's not a reason," eden shot back immediately.

"it is to me." astrid tilted her head slightly, watching her. "she texted you, though."

"yeah."

"more than once?" blyth hesitated—again. "yeah." eden let out a sharp laugh. "and you just ignored her?"

"i didn't just ignore her," blyth muttered. "i—" she stopped, frowning. "i don't know what i'd even say."

"maybe start with 'hi'?" eden suggested dryly. blyth shot her a look. astrid nudged her again with her foot. "or 'sorry i ghosted you after crying in your arms and making out with you in public.' that could work."

"i didn't makeout with her," blyth snapped. astrid raised a brow. "not around people at least," blyth corrected under her breath. eden made a noise like she was in pain. "i think you should reply to her."

blyth turned onto her back, staring up at the ceiling now.

"it's just—" she started, then stopped, jaw tightening slightly. "it got out of hand. people are talking, and she just wants to fuck." she gestured vaguely. "i don't need people slut shaming me and then i get dropped from this contract with saint laurent because of it. i mean, this event at coachella is a big deal for me right now."

that quieted them for a second. because that part wasn't a joke. astrid's tone softened a little. "so you're ignoring her because of people?"

"i'm ignoring her because it was a one time hook up," blyth said quickly. "it didn't mean anything." eden and astrid both went quiet. not because they believed her.

but because she said it like she was trying to convince herself. a beat passed. "you watched her video three times," eden pointed out. blyth closed her eyes.

"i'm gonna break your pinkie toe."

✴︎

a couple days passed since her conversation with her best friend and her sister, and she hated to say that she gave in and texted her about hanging out. she didn't apologize for ghosting her or anything, didn't acknowledge it at all. she just asked if she wanted to hangout like nothing had happened. miko responded a little too quickly, and of course, she agreed.

and now blyth sat in front of her, at an in n out burger on sunset, the late afternoon light spilling in through the windows and catching on the table between them.

they were a bit silent while they waited for their order, the kind of quiet that wasn't fully awkward but wasn't easy either. it had been fine up until a fan came up to miko asking for a photo, polite but curious.

her eyes flicking between the two of them just a second too long, like she was trying to confirm something she'd already seen online. it didn't take much to guess what she was thinking, and once she walked away, the silence that followed settled heavier than before.

when their number was called, blyth stood up first, quick to move before miko could even say anything, offering to grab the food without really giving her the chance to argue. when she came back balancing the plates, she noticed miko had already started setting up her phone against her soda cup, a youtube video playing quietly like it was second nature.

blyth shook her head, rolling her eyes as she set the trays down. "of course you're like an ipad kid," she teased, a small smile slipping through before she sat.

miko looked at her, blushing slightly but not enough to hide the amused look on her face. "i'm pretty sure you are too. sit with me." she tapped the empty space next to her in the booth.

blyth glanced at her, then around the restaurant, taking in the people nearby, the open space, the way it would look from someone else's perspective. it didn't go unnoticed by miko.

"we'd have no space to eat properly," she excused, even though she didn't move, still standing there like she was debating it.

miko rolled her eyes and reached out, gently tugging her down by the hoop of her jeans. "a quién le importa lo que piensen las personas, sólo estamos comiendo," she murmured, her eyes lingering on blyth's side profile for a second longer than necessary.

blyth let herself be pulled down, settling next to her, picking up her burger like that had been her plan the whole time. she took a bite, then glanced over as miko reached straight for her fries first.

"you're so odd," she said, already having spread at the corner of her mouth as she made a face at her.

miko laughed, her eyes flicking briefly to blyth's lips before she looked away, choosing not to say anything about it. "the fries are good here," she defended, finally unwrapping her burger.

"that's why you eat them last. it's like a reward," blyth argued, glancing over at miko's phone, the video playing vanilla mace. "y yo soy el raro," miko muttered, just loud enough for blyth to hear.

"what kind of iphone is this?" blyth asked, ignoring her, setting her burger down to clean her hands.

"the seventeen," miko answered, moving her phone to take a drink before placing it back against the cup.

blyth reached into her pocket, pulling out her wired earphones. "it's too loud," she said simply, offering the left bud to miko before plugging them into the phone.

miko paused for a second, looking at her, a small smile forming before she took it, slipping it into her ear. she didn't say anything, just leaned back slightly as they both turned their attention to the screen.

they stayed like that, quiet, eating and watching, the earlier tension settling into something easier.

every now and then, one of them would move their drink, switching out the cups to prop the phone back up whenever it slipped, their hands brushing briefly without either of them making a comment about it. it felt normal.

too normal.

when they finished eating, they sat in blyth's car for a moment, the air inside still a little warm as it started to build with the engine running.

miko sat in the driver's seat, scrolling through her phone, while blyth leaned back in the passenger seat, one hand resting over her stomach. "me siento tan hinchada," she complained, slouching deeper into the seat.

miko smiled slightly to herself, listening, but not looking up from her phone just yet, letting the car warm up as the quiet settled back in around them.

"what do you want to do now?" the older girl asked, placing her phone in the cup holder, her attention finally shifting fully to blyth.

blyth sat up a little straighter, reaching forward to connect her phone to the carplay, her movements casual like she'd done it a hundred times before. "uhm... we can go to my house. i kinda wanna take a nap," she suggested, glancing over at her for a second before looking back at the screen.

"yeah, okay." miko nodded, her tone easy as she shifted the car out of park and into reverse, one hand resting at the top of the wheel as she backed out of the parking lot.

the directions to blyth's place popped up automatically on the screen, the map lighting up as kendrick lamar started playing through the speakers, low but clear. neither of them changed it.

the drive wasn't long, but it wasn't quick either. the freeway was a little packed, cars moving steadily enough that it didn't feel stressful, just slow. blyth leaned back into her seat again, quieter now, her head resting slightly against the window as she watched the city pass by. miko kept one hand on the wheel, the other resting loosely near the console, occasionally glancing over at blyth without saying anything, like she was checking if she'd actually fall asleep.

she didn't.

by the time they got to blyth's apartment, the sun had shifted lower, the light softer as miko pulled into a spot and turned the car off.

arnold greeted them the second the door opened.

blyth stepped inside first, barely getting the door halfway open before the cat was already there, brushing against her legs. miko followed behind, closing the door quietly before pausing just inside as blyth crouched down.

"hi, baby," blyth murmured immediately, her voice dropping into something softer as she reached for him, scooping him up like she hadn't seen him in weeks instead of a few hours.

she pressed a few quick kisses against his face, talking to him in that same tone while he meowed back at her, completely unbothered.

miko watched her for a second. just stood there, her back against the closed door, taking it in without interrupting, a faint smile pulling at her lips.

blyth eventually stood back up, still holding him for a second before letting him down, turning toward miko. "quieres agua o algo?" she asked, stepping a little closer, now eye level with her—almost. she still had to tilt her chin up just slightly to meet her gaze.

"no, gracias," miko said, her voice softer now, her eyes drifting down as arnold circled back around, brushing against her legs like he'd decided she was worth the attention too.

she crouched down, picking him up without hesitation, cradling him like a baby, one hand supporting him while the other scratched lightly under his chin. "te encanta tener la atención sobre ti, hmm?" she murmured, more to him than blyth, her accent slipping in a little more naturally.

blyth watched that for a second, something unreadable flickering across her face before she turned away, moving further into her home like she needed something else to focus on.

"can you tell me what happened when i was drunk?" blyth suddenly asked, laying on the couch upside down, her legs draped over the back and her head hanging slightly off the edge, hair falling toward the floor as she stared at miko from that angle.

miko approached her slowly, arnold no longer in her arms, her hands slipping into the pockets of her hoodie as she looked down at her. she held in a laugh, lips pressing together for a second like she was trying not to smile too hard—like the night was a little too clear in her head.

"you were sitting with your friends," she started, her voice calm, a little amused already, "and then you forced me to sit with you guys."

her eyes flicked down to blyth's face, watching her reaction as she continued.

"we smoked a bit and the sativa didn't sit right with you. especially with how drunk you already were," she added, tilting her head slightly. "so i took you to the restroom in my trailer because you said you felt like throwing up."

blyth's brows pulled together slightly, listening, not interrupting. "you didn't," miko continued, her tone evening out just a little.

"but you did start crying. about your ex." she paused there for half a second, like she was deciding how much to say.

"so i took you back to my hotel room," she went on, softer now, "figured i'd get you something to eat, let you sober up a little."

her gaze lingered on blyth for a moment longer before she added— "you fell asleep before i even came back with the food." blyth shifted slightly on the couch, her head tilting just a bit more as she processed it. miko exhaled quietly through her nose, that held back smile slipping just a little.

"and," she added, almost as an afterthought but not really, "you tried getting in my pants when i was guiding you into the bedroom of the hotel."

there was a beat of silence after that.

miko's eyes stayed on her, watching closely now, that same teasing edge creeping back in, subtle but there. "so yeah," she finished, lifting a brow slightly,

"you don't remember any of that?"

blyth covered her face immediately, the embarrassment hitting her all at once as she shook her head faintly against the couch cushion. "no, that's so embarrassing. i'm sorry." her voice came out a little muffled through her hands as she dragged them down her face, like she was trying to physically wipe the memory away.

miko just laughed, soft but real, like she couldn't help it. she shifted a little closer where she sat, her inked hand coming to rest against blyth's hip bone, casual but intentional.

the cold of her rings against her skin made blyth flinch slightly, her body reacting before she could stop it.

"está bien, nena," miko said, her tone warm, still carrying that quiet amusement. her thumb moved lightly against her skin, slow, absent, like she wasn't even thinking about it. "fue un poco gracioso. y no dijiste nada tan mal."

blyth let out a small breath, finally lowering her hands, her face still warm as her eyes snapped toward miko's. "qué dije?" she asked, more serious now, like she needed to know exactly how bad it got.

miko held her gaze for a second, like she was deciding how much to say, her thumb still brushing softly against her hip. "you were just being flirty," she answered, her tone easy.

"and you called your ex a bitch." blyth's expression didn't change much at that. if anything, it settled.

"lo es," she muttered under her breath, her attention drifting for a second as arnold walked past, brushing his fur against her face like he always did. she reached up without thinking, her fingers grazing over his back for a second before letting her hand fall again.

there was a small pause, the room quiet except for the faint noise from the music she put on without notice.

"can i know what happened?" miko asked, her voice softer this time, more careful. there was curiosity there, yeah, but she didn't push it too hard, just enough to let blyth decide if she wanted to say anything at all.

blyth stayed quiet for a second, her gaze unfocused like she was deciding how much to give. her fingers toyed absently with the edge of the couch as she let out a quiet sigh.

"we didn't really date," she started, her tone flattening slightly, like she'd told this story to herself more than anyone else. "at least, that's what she said."

she shifted a little, turning her head just enough to look at the ceiling instead of miko.

"but there were a lot of times where she introduced me as her girlfriend to people. her friends, random people, whoever," she added, a faint frown pulling at her lips. "we were together for a while, actually. like she knew my sisters and my mom learned to accept us kind of shit."

miko didn't interrupt. her hand stayed where it was, steady, her thumb slowing but not stopping completely.

"and then she cheated on me," blyth continued, her voice tightening just slightly. "with a guy." she let out a small, humorless breath.

"and after that, she went on this whole... religious thing," she said, searching for the right word before settling. "like, overnight. said she found god or whatever."

her eyes rolled faintly, but there wasn't much humor in it.

"she told me i needed help," blyth added, quieter now. "that i wasn't okay in the head. that something was genuinely wrong within my soul." miko's jaw tightened just slightly, but she didn't say anything.

"and then she went online, and tried to say i was the one who did all that to her." blyth went on, her voice steadier now but colder, the room went quiet again after that.

blyth didn't look at her, her gaze staying fixed somewhere else, like she'd already said more than she meant to. miko's hand stilled for a second against her hip before her thumb moved again, slower this time, more deliberate.

"qué pedazo de mierda," she said finally, her voice low, controlled in a way that made it clear she meant it. blyth shrugged slightly, like it didn't matter, even if it clearly did.

"it's whatever."

she slowly got up from her position of being upside down, pushing herself up with one hand as her hair fell back into place. the movement was unhurried, but there was something heavier in it now, like the shift in the conversation hadn't fully left her.

miko's hand followed her without thinking, sliding from her hip to her thigh as she adjusted, settling there naturally as her eyes stayed on blyth's face. and it was written all over it.

the way her expression softened just slightly, the way her gaze didn't quite settle anywhere. it was obvious she was still sitting in it, even if she wasn't saying anything else.

"no hay nada malo en ti," miko said quietly, her voice gentler now, a little raspy as she spoke. her hand lifted, brushing a loose strand of hair back behind blyth's ear, her fingers lingering just a second longer than necessary before her thumb traced lightly along her cheek. "tu alma tiene una hermosa gentileza que nunca pudo entender."

her touch was careful, steady.

"ella se permitió perderte, y eso es culpa suya. algo que probablemente lamente por el resto de su vida." she added, softer, her eyes not leaving blyth's,

her hand dropped back down, resting again on blyth's thigh like it had been there all along. blyth just looked at her.

there was something uncertain in her expression, something that didn't fully know what to do with that. her stomach turned slightly, not in a bad way, just... too much all at once. what the fuck did i get into. the thought came and stayed, louder than she wanted it to be.

she looked away first.

her eyes dropped to her hands, fingers moving against each other like she was trying to keep herself steady without making it obvious. she knew miko meant it. that was the issue. it wasn't something said just to fill space.

blyth leaned back into the couch a little, just enough to create space without actually moving away. her hand brushed lightly over her thigh where miko's still rested, not pushing it off, just acknowledging it. "thank you," she muttered after a second, her voice quieter than before.

✴︎

days slipped past them quietly, almost unnoticed, the way time does when it isn't being measured anymore. whatever had been sitting between them.. uncertain, undefined, easy to ignore at first, shifted into something heavier.

not louder, not clearer. just present. like a weight neither of them acknowledged, but both adjusted to carrying. miko stayed in the city longer than she needed to.

she said she missed her flight. mariana didn't believe her. mauro didn't either. but neither of them pushed it, because the truth sat too plainly beneath the excuse.

miko wasn't trying to leave. not yet. so she stayed. and blyth's life didn't slow down to meet her.

it moved the same way it always had. fast, loud, restless. people came and went without much introduction, music bled through walls at all hours, and nights rarely ended where they started. there was always somewhere else to go, something else to drink, someone else to meet.

miko adapted the best she could.

she wasn't unfamiliar with any of it. she knew the rhythm of parties, the ease of slipping into rooms full of strangers and leaving like it meant nothing. she knew how to exist in that kind of chaos without letting it touch her too deeply.

but blyth lived in it. like it was second nature. like stillness didn't suit her. there were moments where it was fun. easy. loud laughter spilling into early mornings, conversations that didn't need to make sense, bodies moving without much thought behind them.

blyth thrived in that space, and for a while, miko let herself follow. but there were other moments too. quieter ones, tucked in between. the kind that didn't belong to the party.

blyth would introduce her the same way every time. 'this is my friend.' said casually, like it didn't carry anything behind it. like it didn't matter.

and miko would nod, play along, let the word settle between them without questioning it. because the truth never stayed in those introductions. it showed up later.

in the way blyth's hand would find hers in crowded rooms, like instinct. in the way she'd lean too close when she spoke, her voice dropping just enough to make it feel like it was meant only for her. in the way distance never lasted long, no matter how many people were around them.

and by the end of the night, the word friend always felt misplaced. clothes abandoned somewhere along the floor, half forgotten in the moment. the faint burn of whiskey still lingering, the smell of weed settling into everything until it became something constant, something familiar.

something that reminded miko of her even when she wasn't there. and sometimes—it went too far.

there were nights where blyth's steps lost their rhythm, where her balance slipped just enough that miko had to steady her, her arm wrapping around her waist without hesitation. guiding her through hallways that blurred together, past voices that faded into noise.

those nights always ended the same. the bathroom floor, cold beneath them, the harsh light cutting through everything.

blyth sitting there, head in her hands, breath uneven as she complained about how much she hated this—hated feeling like this, hated losing control, hated the way it always ended the same.

her voice would break between words, somewhere between frustration and something softer she didn't let surface fully.

miko stayed with her every time.

quiet, steady.

her hand moving in slow circles against blyth's back, her voice low, patient, grounding in a way that didn't demand anything in return. she didn't rush her, didn't make it a bigger deal than it was.

she just stayed until it passed. until blyth could breathe again without it catching. until the silence didn't feel so sharp. and blyth noticed. she noticed in the way miko never pulled away, never looked at her differently after.

noticed in the way she didn't try to fix it, didn't try to turn it into something it wasn't. she just accepted it. accepted her. that was the part that unsettled her the most.

because miko had already seen the worst of her. the parts she didn't dress up or soften, the parts she usually kept hidden behind everything else. and she stayed anyway. it hadn't even been long. just a few weeks.

but time felt different around her. stretched in places, compressed in others, like they had already moved past something they never named.

blyth had always believed there was something different about loving women. something quieter, but deeper. a kind of understanding that didn't need to be explained, a way of being seen that felt too intimate to ignore.

it made everything softer.

and sharper at the same time. like it mattered more. like it could break easier. and maybe that was why she kept one foot back.

because as much as she felt it. whatever this was, whatever it was becoming, there was a part of her that knew she wasn't ready to hold it properly.

not like this. not yet.

sylvie still lingered in the corners of her mind, not loud, not constant, but present enough to shift things when she wasn't paying attention. a memory that hadn't settled, something unresolved that surfaced in quiet moments and stayed longer than she wanted it to.

and miko deserved something steady. something certain. not something caught in between what blyth used to be and what she hadn't figured out yet.

so blyth let things stay undefined. let the nights blur, let the mornings soften, let the space between them exist without naming it. because naming it meant holding it. and holding it meant risking something she wasn't sure she could keep.

blyth laid against her chest now, her ear pressed just enough to catch the steady rhythm of victoria's heartbeat beneath her. it was calm, even, completely unaffected—like it didn't match the way blyth's own thoughts moved.

victoria's hand rested against her bare back, moving slowly, lazily, her fingers tracing absent patterns along her skin like she wasn't even thinking about it.

their legs were tangled together under the sheets, bodies still warm from earlier, the air in the room thick and a little humid, clinging to them in a way that made it hard to separate where one ended and the other began.

blyth shifted slightly, just enough to get more comfortable, her cheek pressing closer against her chest as she spoke, her voice softer now, slower, like she didn't want to break the quiet too much.

"i mean, you could carpool with me and my friends," she said, her words stretching out a little as she went, like she was building the idea as she spoke it. "they wouldn't mind. and my sister would be excited to hangout with you."

her fingers idly traced along victoria's side, not really focused, just moving. she paused for a second, then added, quieter—"and i'm not gonna drink. i think i've had enough this week."

the memory of the night before lingered just enough to make her mouth press slightly, the image of herself passed out on the couch flashing briefly before she pushed it away.

victoria didn't answer right away. her hand didn't stop moving, but there was a shift in it. slower now, more deliberate.

"enserio?" she asked, her brow lifting slightly even though blyth couldn't fully see it, the amusement sitting clearly in her tone.

blyth frowned immediately, rolling her eyes as she lifted her head, her messy hair falling forward into her face as she looked up at her.

"yes," she answered, already a little defensive. "i could limit myself if i wanted." she pushed herself up just enough to look at her properly, her expression set like she needed to prove it. "i have a lot of control in my drinking."

victoria just looked at her. didn't interrupt, didn't argue. just looked at her in that quiet way that said she didn't believe her for a second.

"right," she replied after a beat, the word dragging just enough to make it obvious.

blyth rolled her eyes again, letting herself fall back down against her chest, like she was done arguing about it even if she clearly wasn't.

her fingers found the scorpio pendant resting against victoria's neck, tracing the shape of it lightly, back and forth, something to focus on instead of the look she knew she was getting.

"what are we doing today?" victoria asked, her voice low, easy, like she already knew the answer would probably change three times before the day was over. with blyth, there was always something—some plan, some last minute idea, something pulling her out of bed and into the world whether she wanted it or not.

"nothing really," blyth murmured, her voice softer now, a little heavier. "i still don't feel too well."

she closed her eyes as she spoke, letting herself sink further into her, nuzzling her head into the crook of victoria's neck like she could hide there for a second. her lips brushed over the tattoos there, slow, absent, pressing soft kisses along the ink and the faint marks she'd left behind the night before.

victoria's breath hitched just slightly at the contact, her hand pausing for a second on blyth's back before it resumed its slow movement. a small smile pulled at her lips, her fingers curling just a little against her skin.

"lo que acabamos de hacer, no te hizo sentir mejor, nena?" she teased, her tone light, but there was something under it. something softer, more careful. that didn't go unnoticed.

blyth only smiled against her skin, a small shrug following like she didn't want to give a real answer. she watched as blyth sat up, stretching slowly, her arms extending above her head, her back arching just enough to ease the tension from her body before she let them fall again.

she didn't say anything as she moved around the room. just reached down to grab her panties, pulling them on without much thought before grabbing miko's hoodie from where it had been left. she slipped it over her head, the fabric falling loosely against her frame, sleeves covering part of her hands, the scent still faint but there.

victoria noticed that too.

she sat up, running her hands through her short hair, pushing it back before leaning forward to grab her own panties, pulling them on as she watched blyth move around like she'd done this a hundred times before.

"did you finish the last two pancakes or no?" she asked, her voice casual, like they hadn't just been wrapped around each other minutes ago.

blyth didn't look at her as she walked toward her dresser, grabbing the ashtray with the untouched blunt resting inside and a lighter beside it.

"no, i got too full," she said, settling back onto the bed, bringing her knees up to her chest as she flicked the lighter. "you could have them if you want."

the flame lit briefly before she brought it to the end of the blunt, inhaling slowly, the tip glowing as she pulled.

victoria leaned back into the pillows, letting herself sink into them, her body still warm and a little heavy. she reached her hand out toward blyth without looking, fingers opening slightly.

blyth handed it to her without a word.

"i'll eat them later," victoria added, her tone softer now, like she didn't have the energy to move just yet. she brought the blunt to her lips, inhaling before exhaling slowly, the smoke curling up toward the ceiling.

blyth watched her for a second longer than she meant to.

her eyes drifted down instead, tracing over victoria's torso, following the lines of ink that spread across her skin. it moved naturally, like it belonged there, like it had grown into her instead of being placed.

"would you actually do a tattoo on me?" blyth asked after a moment, her voice quieter now, more curious than anything.

her gaze lifted back up to victoria's face.

victoria exhaled the last of the smoke before glancing over at her, nodding slightly. "yeah," she said, easy. "i'd just have to practice a little first. i haven't tattooed anyone in a while."

she shifted onto her side, propping her head up with her hand, her eyes settling on blyth again. "you'd trust me like that?" she added, a small hint of teasing slipping back in, but softer this time.

"well, i don't know. you still have to show me your drawings," blyth said, squinting slightly as she brought the blunt back between her fingers, her tone carrying that quiet challenge like she wasn't just going to take her word for it.

victoria smiled to herself at that, something small and knowing, like she expected it.

she pushed herself off the bed without much effort, walking over to her suitcase that sat half open near the wall. blyth's eyes followed her without meaning to, drifting over her back as she moved—the stretch of muscle, the way the dragon tattoo curved along her skin, detailed and alive in a way that made it hard not to stare every time.

it always caught her attention.

victoria crouched slightly, rummaging through her things for a second before pulling out a worn journal. she stood back up, flipping it open as she walked back toward the bed, her fingers already turning through pages filled with messy sketches, half finished ideas, lyrics scribbled in different corners.

she didn't stop right away. just kept flipping, like she was deciding what blyth was allowed to see.

then she paused on a page, holding it there for a second before handing the journal over. "there's more past this page," she murmured, her voice low as she reached for the blunt again, bringing it to her lips.

blyth took the journal, her fingers brushing lightly against victoria's for a second before she pulled it closer.

she leaned back slightly, resting into the pillows as she started skimming through the pages, slower than she expected herself to. her eyes moved carefully this time, actually taking things in. the lines, the small details, the way everything felt a little raw but intentional.

a soft smile pulled at her lips without her noticing.

"this is also your music journal?" she asked, glancing up briefly before looking back down, her brow raising slightly as she read over a set of lyrics—meiomi written at the top.

"mhm," victoria hummed, a little too quick.

and then, just as blyth's fingers started to turn the page. victoria reached over and took the journal back. not rough, not urgent. just fast enough to stop her. blyth looked up immediately, her expression shifting.

"hey—" she leaned forward slightly, reaching her hand out toward it again. "come on, let me see. it's not like i'm gonna steal it and release it as my own."

there was a small pause.

victoria didn't move right away, the journal still in her hands as she looked at her, weighing it for a second like she was deciding how much she was willing to give.

blyth's hand stayed there, waiting. "please?" she added, softer this time, but with that same pull behind it, her eyes not leaving victoria's.

she gave in after a second, exhaling softly through her nose like she was pretending it wasn't a big deal, and passed the journal back to her. "this song is coming out soon," victoria said, her voice a little more casual now, like she was trying to redirect the attention. "i think you'd like it, you know."

blyth took it without hesitation, her fingers already flipping back to the page she'd been on, her eyes scanning the lyrics more carefully this time. "who's this about?" she asked, her tone teasing as she looked up at her.

"no one really," victoria shook her head quickly, already moving before the question could sit too long. she leaned over blyth, close enough for her hair to brush lightly against her arm as she reached to place the blunt back in the ashtray. blyth watched her for a second, then looked back down, turning the page.

her brow lifted slightly. "this is me?" she asked, the teasing slipping into something more surprised as her eyes traced over the drawing. victoria froze for just a second.

then she moved, a little too quick, reaching to take the journal back—but blyth pulled her hand away before she could. their faces ended up closer than either of them expected. inches apart.

"when did you draw this?" blyth asked, her voice quieter now, her eyes lifting from the page to victoria's face, studying her instead. and it showed.

the way the sunlight hit her just right, catching in her blue eyes, making them look a little brighter than usual. the freckles across her skin softer in the light, the faint flush spreading across her cheeks impossible to hide.

her lips pressed together slightly, pink, full, like she didn't know what to say without making it worse. the drawing in blyth's hands was intimate. not something quick or careless. it felt personal. not something meant for anyone else's eyes.

the curve of her body laid out across the page, on her back against the bed, the lines soft but intentional, detailed in a way that made it clear this wasn't something done from a quick glance. it was remembered. blyth's fingers tightened slightly around the book.

victoria bit the inside of her lip, her shoulders lifting just a little as she shrugged, trying to play it off. "i told you i like drawing people," she said, like that explained it.

blyth's lips curved slowly, something amused and a little softer settling into her expression. "you're a little perv," she murmured, leaning in just enough for her lips to brush against victoria's.

it was light. brief. but enough.

victoria's breath caught slightly, her lips chasing hers as blyth pulled back just a fraction, the space between them barely there. she let out a quiet breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.

"the drawing is from memory, mind you," victoria added quickly, her voice lower now, like she needed to defend herself before it got used against her.

and then she closed the distance.

blyth kissed back immediately, like there was no hesitation left in her at all, her hand still loosely holding the journal—until victoria's other hand moved, quick and practiced, slipping it right out of her grip without breaking the kiss.

blyth didn't even notice at first.

not until victoria pulled away just enough to toss it off to the side, the journal hitting the floor with a soft thud.

blyth blinked, breath catching as she looked at her. "hey— you said i could look," she complained, her voice a little breathless now.

"next time," victoria murmured, already moving again. her hands found blyth's legs, tugging her back gently until she was laid flat against the bed again, the motion smooth and easy like she'd done it before.

then she shifted over her, straddling her, their attention no longer on the journal at all.

[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.”

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