Respectfully Feral

180k+ words of x reader fanfiction, inspired by Young Miko lyrics.

Everything here comes from my imagination or your requests, is hand typed and edited by me, and is completely fictional. Vera / Young Vee is a character. I don't know Young Miko or try to represent her, these are fictional storylines.

WARNING for any section marked with ***, 18+ wlw only please. This content isn't written for minors or men, thanks. Post with more on this.

Oneshots/Short series:

Tómame Fotos Así, 9.1k***

Nervous: After, part one, 5.6k***

Nervous: The beginning, part one, 5.1k***

Nervous: The beginning, part two, 8.2k***

First Time Between Friends, 10k***

First Time Between Friends, part two, 5.2k***

Duro, Daddy 9k***

Caught on Camera, part one 5.5k***

Caught on Camera, part two 5.4k***

Little White Bikini 5k***

Arguments, part one 6k***

Arguments, part two 11k***

Tattoos, part one 3.5k

Tattoos, part two 3.7k***

The First Time at your Apartment 1.5k***

A Bad Day 2k

Routines 2k

The above 18+ oneshots, non-fanfiction/translated ***

Sex in the Motel: Series masterlist, still in progress

x reader fluff/smut fanfiction, total word count: 88,737

Inspired by DND and the premise of spending time with Young Vee in motels. In the prologue to the main story you meet a woman at a bar and go back to her motel room with her. The next day you go to a festival with her and find out what she does for a living. The main story (written first) takes place 2-3 years later around Young Vee's third album release, you and Vera have been in a years long casual situaitionship at this point. The most recent section is about taking a long trip alone with her for the first time, slowing down and enjoying each other while defining what the relationship means. More to come in this storyline.

Full disclosure that the intention of this series is to explore what a healthy long distance open relationship between two women in their late 20s/early 30s could look like. They care about each other and eventually discuss deeper meaning and boundaries, but I know that open relationships aren't everyone's cup of tea.

This is series is the first thing that I've written, and as I look back, I definitely see how my writing has evolved since the start of it. I have started editing it to better match how I write now, and the first section of edits is linked below. Thanks for being patient with me while I learn. I will continue editing in the background as I post new content. Post explaining edits a bit more.

Prologue: The First Time at The Motel

Part One ***

Part Two

Part Three ***

Part Four ***

Sex In the Motel Main Fic:

Part One ***

Part Two ***

Part Three ***

Part Four ***

Snippets of Conversation before Puerto Rico***

The First Trip Together:

Part One ***

Part Two

Part Three ***

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six ***

Part Seven

Part Eight ***

Part Nine ***

Part Ten ***

The above series non-fanfiction/translated ***, in progress

Temporary pause on requests as I work though these ones, as I want to be accountable to what I've already accepted. Please feel free to send them in, just know they'll go unanswered until I'm through this list. Current list of requests: phone sex, glamping, the reader gets nipple piercings/Vera's reaction to them, reader is Vera's private chef and they fall for each other, reader is a dancer in the GAP ad and she and Vera hit it off, a SoundCloud era fic, intense Meiomi fic, reader running into Vera all over town and playing hard to get at first.

I post any original content (free of requests) that contains 18+ writing under the tags "Young Miko x you", "Young Miko x reader", etc NOT the main "Young Miko" tag to try to keep openly mature content out of there if it wasn't specifically requested. Check those tags if you aren't following me for updates. I will post all requests under the main tag, just with the explicit filter on as needed.

Full transparency that I'm learning Spanish, and as I learn I'm sliding more bits of it into this story. Thanks for being patient with me while I learn. I've also never been to Puerto Rico. Trying to be super respectful of a language/culture that I do not belong to, and writing the reader similarly. Please let me know if you notice something that doesn't sit right with you, I'm glad to make edits if I've represented something wrong.

xxx

A bit about me: I'm in my early 30s, a married lesbian, mom to one, night shifter. I like cats, plants, crochet, hiking/camping, singing in my car, reading, zoos, and rolllercoaters. I watch all of the international seasons of Survivor that are in English, Australia being my favorite. Obviously I love Young Miko's music, I also listen to a lot of Bad Bunny, a bunch of smaller queer musicians, and musical soundtracks. I've been reading fanfiction on Tumblr for since I was a teenager. I loved writing long papers in college, but didn't try writing fiction of any variety until I started this in November. I've always had a tendency to craft wandering stories in my head, and now it's fun playing with finding words for them and sharing.

This Tumblr is my main home and favorite space, but here are other spaces where you can find me:

X/Twitter

AO3 Link: Updates here are always behind Tumblr.

Wattpad link: a few of the above oneshots here.

Non-fanfiction Tumblr/Inkitt link: some of the spicy sections above with the Spanish translated.

I do occasionally share edited versions of my fics on other platforms. Crochetcats is the only fanfiction name that I use, Arianne Nightly is my penname outside of fanfiction. If you see my content under any other names, please let me know.

This Tumblr is and will always be the fastest way to contact me❤️

I've had a quiet mental goal of 200k by one year here (early November), feeling confident I'll be well past that at this point. My current WIP will easily put me past 190. 250 by November? 😜

Edit-

Tómame Fotos Así

x reader, fluff, graphic smut. Inspired by Young Miko lyrics, but Vera is a fictional character.

***WARNING: smut, explicit lesbian sex, 18+ only***

Fulfilling a request for the Cosmo shoot, with the reader as the photographer. Wrote them as engaged because it sounded funnn. Also fulfilling two requests for spitting, and one for Vera squirting.

9,154 words.

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Days with nothing on the calendar are rare. Today started out slow and stayed there, lazy and perfect. Vera is curled up with her head on your chest, several episodes deep into rewatching Legend of Korra. Your fingers run through her short waves, and you absentmindedly reach for your phone. 

The first few sentences of an email make your jaw drop, and you laugh out loud as you continue reading. Vera looks up at you, with curiosity in her expression, bright blue eyes above freckled cheeks. She hums a question at you, worldlessly asking what made you laugh. 

“Work email, asking if I'm available to do a photoshoot.”

“Oh, nice. What's funny though?”, she asks, confusion in her tone. 

“It's here.”

“Cool, lucky you, won't have to travel far.”

“That still isn't what's funny”, you smirk, passing her your phone. 

She reads, getting to the part where she laughs, “Think we can pull that off, mami?”

“I think so”, you smile, leaning down to kiss her. 

Vera is private. You've kept this hidden longer, and more successfully, than you'd expected. The two of you have been in the same social circle for long enough that no one found it odd when you were at the same event, or happened to dance together occasionally. You don't catch any attention at her shows or out with her in a group. It's surprising that you've managed to keep it private to this point, engagement rings, without getting caught. Her pinky ring is more subtle than your more obvious engagement ring, but she switches the hand that she wears hers on, and sometimes hides it on a chain under her shirt. Although she's photographed in it often, so far no one has mentioned it specifically. 

You've never discussed what would happen if you were asked to shoot for her, professionally. The magazine is one you always say yes to, which adds a layer. As you start to imagine the ways that you’d shoot her, settings and outfits she might be put in, poses she’d look best in with natural lighting, you start to get excited.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

This photoshoot had clearly been designed to kill you, you were almost convinced that someone was aware of the torture they’d designed. As the photoshoot progressed, somehow your fiance got more and more attractive before your eyes. You’d been wet for hours, very aware of it with the breeze under your dress, the constant movement of your work.

The last shots of the night were taken after dark, in the back of a truck. The way that she looked in the streetlights, wind in her hair, set you on fire. She was teasing you with her eyes, giving you long looks, aware of what she was doing to you. In one shot, the way that she tipped her head back against the side of the truck, almost arching with her neck long, had you literally throbbing.

On the drive back, flipping through the pictures on your camera and trying to act professional, you suggest a few more pictures in the bedroom set. It was a rental, reserved overnight, no time limit. You mumble about wanting to try evening lighting, say that you won’t need anyone else to stay. As normal and straightforward as you can manage, you ask your fiance if you can take a few more shots, then drive her home afterwards. She glances at Anna, shrugs, and agrees. 

Once the car reaches the rental, everyone else starts to gather their belongings as you reposition the lighting. Vera returns to the bed, stretching out with her arms above her head. The entire vibe of these shots destroyed you, and this is exactly why. She looks so bottomy that it hurts. Little boxers riding low, blue eyes wide, freckles on display in her bikini top.

You take a few more pictures, asking her to make small adjustments as you listen to the sounds of people leaving the room. At one point she pushes one leg up, letting them both fall wide with her eyes on yours, the position she’d be in if you were scissoring her. You bite your lip as you snap a picture, somehow growing wetter as she poses for you. 

The door closes as the last person leaves, and you listen to the sounds of their footsteps on the gravel outside. It’s quiet as you continue taking pictures, more focused on the sound of their car starting than the images you’re taking. You hear the crunch of gravel, the distinct sound of a car seesawing into reverse and then moving forward, driving off until you can’t hear it.

As soon as the sound is gone, you hang your camera around your neck, eyes on Vera’s. You walk across the room quickly, climbing onto the bed and moving upwards, pressing your lips into hers firmly. She makes a soft sound into the kiss, and you pull back, gaze fixed on hers as you continue to move upwards. 

“¿Sabes lo que me has estado haciendo todo el día, Vera?”

Her smirk tells you that she’s aware, even as she says, “¿Qué?”

“Ya sabes. Me has estado mirando todo el día, posando para mí como si fuera el único en la habitación.”

“Oh, ¿crees que he estado posando para ti? ¿Eso te afectó?”, her voice is teasing.

“¿Qué piensas?”, you ask as your thighs slide over her shoulders.

Lifting your dress, you pull your thong to the side, feel her breath on you as she speaks, “Oh, fuck, mamá. Mírate, tan mojado por mí. ¿Has estado así todo el día?”

“Todo el día Vera, todo el día.”

She hums, “Podemos pasar toda la noche compensándolo”, words ending as her mouth finds you.

The first press of her tongue against you feels too good to be real, heavenly after aching all day taking pictures of her. The hours that she spent teasing you feel like permission to let go of your restraint now, you roll into her tongue right away, grinding in for more pressure.

She’s giving you the look that she’s been putting on for your camera all day, wide blue eyes, expression so submissive it makes you ache all over again, pretty freckles on display with minimal makeup. That look has had this, specifically on your mind all day, as you were taking pictures. 

“Hold my dress”, you murmur at her.

Her fingertips brush against yours as they shift upwards, holding your dress in place at your hips. One hand still holds your thong to the side, but this frees the other to turn your camera on, focus the lens on her doing what you’d been imagining. 

“Sweetheart, these are the pictures I’ve had on my mind all day, with your pretty eyes looking so wide and innocent while you pose for me.”

She moans into you, the vibration of it moving over you deliciously as her tongue works. 

“We’re going to spend the rest of the night taking the pictures I’ve been thinking about.”

Blinking at you, she makes another sound before applying suction, and your next words end before they start. It’s pleasurable in a different way, makes you clench against nothing, little shocks of pleasure rolling over you at the sensation. The rhythm of her tongue continues uninterrupted, quickening as the seconds pass. 

When she releases the suction, the pressure behind her tongue increases, and everything about what she does takes on a more intense tone. She’s working into you with intention, giving you what the grind of your hips have been asking for. It makes your eyes roll back, breath catching in your throat as your hips stutter against her tongue.

You focus on it so deeply that you lose track of time. White spots spark in your vision, breath returning to you loudly. Your thighs shake as you support yourself, head rushing with your uneven respirations. 

Your voice is broken, “So good with that little mouth, got me so close, Ver.”

Her expression doesn’t change, awareness in her eyes as she makes a sound into you. It’s sexy that she knows what she does to you, how to take you where she wants you, controlling you like this all day long even with such submissive looks. That thought makes fresh arousal bloom through you, and you sense that the building feeling that she’s created is almost at breaking point, so intense that it seems impossibly good.

Remembering the camera in your hand, you take a few more quick shots of her, turning it off and letting it drop against your chest. Your hand moves to your sternum, pulling your dress down to roll your nipple between your fingertips. Her hands clench against your hips as she holds your dress in place, another moan vibrating over your core as she watches you. The sensation of it tips you over the edge, orgasm slamming through you, sudden and fierce. 

Your hand leaves your chest to fall into her hair, weaving into it as your hips move helplessly against her. You cry out as your clit throbs on her tongue, grinding against her as she keeps her pace, not relenting as sensation bursts over you. It feels especially intense, always does when you’ve been aching for it all day like this, moments holding long as pleasure rolls over you. 

Thighs shaking as you slowly start to come down, you press forward into her more firmly, chasing the last bursts of orgasm. Your thought processes slowly gain logic again, recalling the next series of shots that she’d put into your mind. Groaning, you feel yourself pulse against her tongue as you picture how you want her. 

Pulling back, you move down her body, pausing to kiss her deeply. The taste of yourself hits you immediately, hot when it’s from her mouth on you like this. Her tongue slides against yours as she makes a sound into the kiss, and you reel with how much you want to hear her making noise for you. It makes you pull back, nipping her lower lip before you continue down her body. 

When you’re straddling her hips, you shift to the side, asking her to roll over. You position her like she was in the pictures, on her stomach, arms folded under her head. Turning your camera on again, you zoom in on the freckles along her shoulders, taking the close up of them that you’d wanted to earlier. Her hair is long and wavy, wanders through the freckles on her upper back adorably, bits of it in the shot. It’s cute, considering where your mind goes from there. 

Turning your camera off again, you kiss along her freckles before moving lower. You pull her hips upwards until she settles in on her knees, an almost obscene angle with her head resting against her arms. Your fingertips trail up the backs of her thighs, whispering just inside the legs of her little boxers. Moving backwards, you take in how she looks from a distance, groaning at it being everything you’d imagined. 

You leave the bed to take a few pictures of her like this, all tan skin and suggestive angles, that soft little expression on her face again. She’s ridiculously attractive no matter the pose, regardless of what vibe she’s giving, but this hits differently. Everything about her feels open and vulnerable, lover girl on display. Her confidence is still there, under all the softer tones, and it’s sexy how deep that runs in her. Even when she looks submissive, showing the camera the eyes that she gives you when she’s bottoming, her confidence is ever present. The way that she knows what she’s doing feels like dominance, she’s letting you see this, have her this way. 

Biting your lip, you let your camera fall again as you return to the bed. Moving behind her, your hands feather up her thighs again, skimming past the edges of her boxers to fan up her ass. Fabric stretched tight with her position, you again find it ironic how much she raps about exactly what she has, perfect curves that she usually hides. 

“These tiny little boxers love, driving me crazy when I was working.”

One hand moves between her legs, fingers applying broad pressure against her core. You make a sound in your throat at the damp warmth you feel there, irritated by the layer between your fingers even as you’re trying to tease her through it. Her hips shift against your fingertips, and you feel her clit pulse against you through the thin layers of fabric. It overrides any desire to tease her further, and your hand slides upwards to find the elastic of her boxers. You snap it against her hip on one side, smile at the way she rolls into the air, and push the fabric downward.

Even as turned on as you are, you can’t help but recall the pictures you wanted to take. You leave her boxers a few inches above her knees, eyes crawling over her bent over like this, partially undressed. Camera on again, you take a few more shots. Moving closer, you untie one side of her bikini bottoms, let the fabric fall the way it naturally would, biting your lip as you hold yourself back. You make yourself take the pictures, bikini bottoms hanging down slightly, before you undo the other side. Helping it downwards, you make yourself take a breath, keep taking pictures. 

She rolls her hips back slightly, knees shifting wider, and you moan. Your eyes find hers, catch the slight amusement there as she asks, “¿Esta es la foto que estabas buscando?”

“Vera Marianna”, you whine at her, almost a whisper.

She’s perfectly spread out, pink and glistening with wetness, shining even along the space at the tops of her thighs. Your hungry eyes are lost in the view on your screen, perfectly focused on how she’s posed herself for you. Zooming slightly, she’s so pretty it actually hurts, you take a few more pictures. 

“Mi amor”, she breathes at you, voice gritty, “r” rolling long and sultry.

“¿Sí, mi nena bonita?”

“Porfa, te necesito”, she says, hips arching further at you. 

“Oh? Got yourself all needy for it now, after being a tease all day?”

“Porfa”, she repeats, so sexy that you can’t resist her.

Dropping your camera again, you slide in between her legs, eyes falling to the space between them. “God baby, pussy so pretty, all spread out for me like this.”

Drawing your fingers into your mouth, you get them wet enough to start, seeing how ready for it she already looks in front of you. Wide open, there isn’t any finding her entrance. She’s right in your line of sight, and you push two fingers into her easily, savor the sound she makes and the way she flutters against them. You make a sound of your own, eyes locked on the way she takes you in, fingers disappearing in her softness. 

When your knuckles bottom out you curl your fingers along her inner wall, sensing for the soft, recessed little spot that you find there. More pressure behind them, you repeatedly curl into it, watching the way her hips shift.

“So wet for me sweetheart, wish we had the strap.”

She laughs, and your eyes find her, watch her mischievous expression as she says, “We do mama, in my backpack, in your trunk. Put it there this morning.”

Your mouth drops open, fingers changing their rhythm, moving in and out of her harshly. “You… How did you know we’d want it?”

Laughing again, “I thought about you taking pictures of me. Remembered what that normally looks like, and realized I’d probably spend all day wanting you.” 

“I love your mind”, you laugh.

“It’s why you’re marrying me, right?”, she smirks.

“Among many other reasons”, you smile, eyes returning to where your fingers move inside of her. 

Groaning, you shift forward further, needing your mouth on her. Moving under the place where your fingers work, an idea sparks through you, and you pass the camera to her. She looks at you curiously.

“Make yourself useful, love. Get pictures of this for me.”

You don’t wait for her response, mouth watering now that you’re in position under her, and you lick a wide path along her clit. She’s good in a way that you can’t explain, familiar enough that just her scent makes you want this taste, to do this for her. You love how responsive she gets when your mouth is on her, the way this makes her take without giving. Doing this for her is as good as receiving, but different, always gets you so worked up that you’re desperate at the end of it.

She makes a sound, and it’s almost as though you feel her eyes through the lens of the camera, snapping pictures as you work her over. Buried in her like this, neck tilted almost as far back as it goes, you can’t see her.  It’s heady, and you thrill at the idea of looking through her pictures together later.

Under her now, your arm can put more weight behind your fingers, and you rail into her as you imagine her expression. You hope that she’s taking pictures as you listen to the sounds that she makes, arousal growing as her volume does. When enough time has passed that you’re sure she has, you start to want more. 

Pulling back slightly, your lips still brush against her folds as you speak, “Set it to video, put it a few inches above your head, but to the side, angled towards us. I want your eyes on the camera when you come for me, to hear all those little sounds you’re making.”

“I’m close,” she says, voice low, and you hear it in her words.

She sets the camera up like you asked, you hear the small sounds of movement as you return your mouth to her, eating into her with the force of how much you want her. Her hips move into you helplessly, like she can’t get enough of it, wants every bit of what you’re giving. The noises that she starts making are so sexy that you find yourself pressing your thighs together, wild with how turned on she has you. 

You hear a sudden shuffling, imagine her turning her face towards the camera. Your heartbeat accelerates with the thought, imagine her face, blue eyes engulfed by blown out pupils. Somehow, you sense that she’s giving face for the video, even as her thighs start to tremble over you.

You feel as the performance drains from her, pleasure overtaking her movements. Orgasm overtakes her like a wave, tension rising through her body before you feel her clench against your fingers. Her hips move senselessly against you, pressure behind them as her sound suddenly goes high pitched. 

It makes you moan into her, working harder specifically for that sound, brain fixed on what it’s meant in the past. She cries out, and you try to nod as your mouth continues against her with as much pressure as you can give. You make another sound, trying to give her permission. Anticipation creeps through you as you work against her, fingers slamming into her most sensitive spot, waiting. It’s never happened like this, you hadn’t thought about it from this angle.

Her hips freeze suddenly, thighs jerking around you as she pulses hard against your fingers. Wetness floods your mouth as you grind your thighs together, the loud sound that she makes in your ears as you feel it run down your chin and cheeks. It’s so sexy that your brain stops, every thought process locked into continuing on her as you try to focus. It feels like rain slipping down your skin, one drop making a pathway down your chest and between your breasts. The idea of having this on video sends chills through you, imaging how it looks running down your neck, stretched long as your mouth moves on her. 

Too soon, she starts to twitch away in overstimulation, and you groan into her. You’re not ready to stop, keep your mouth on her for a few more seconds as your fingers start to slow within her. She moans your name, weak, tiny, and it hits you in your chest. Pulling back fully, fingers growing gentle, your eyes find hers. She looks wrecked, stunning, so beautiful that emotion wells up in you.

“Te amo”, you murmur at her, smiling softly as you listen to the sound of your fingers moving in her still. 

“Y yo también te amo. Fuck, Te adoro, cásate conmigo”, her voice is breathy, playful and blissed out.

“Ya dije que sí, pero lo diré mil veces más,” you laugh.

Removing your fingers slowly, you take them into your mouth, eyes flickering between hers and the lens as you lick them clean. Shifting to move out from under her, you tap the outside of her hip as you say, “On your back for me, love”. 

She makes a sound, moving to do as you asked. Without being told, she positions herself like she was earlier. One arm behind her head, one leg up and slightly to the side. With nothing on but her bikini top, wide open at a different angle, she fries your brain all over again. She’s a deeper shade of pink now, swollen, visibly wet down her thighs after what she just did. 

Reaching out, you take the camera as it continues to record, point it at her for a moment. She blinks at the lens, eyelashes fluttering as her mouth drops open slightly. It makes you throb, and you turn the recording off, impatiently switching to picture mode. Trying to focus, you snap through the pictures that you want of her, eventually zooming in on her folds.

When you’re done, you turn the camera off as you move between her legs. Your fingertips feather along a trail of moisture, moving up her thigh, and your eyes find hers as you speak, “You squirted in my mouth.”

She blushes, adorable even in the middle of this, “You nodded?”

“I did. It was so hot, oh my god Vera.”

Your fingers slide into her again, watch the way her eyes roll back as you say, “So fucking wet for me afterwards, baby I can’t even.”

“Go get the strap”, she whines.

“I will”, you coo, eyes fixed on the way your fingers move in her.

You’re clumsy with your non-dominant hand, but manage to get the camera into position to capture a few images of the way she looks taking your fingers. Her expression as your knuckles grind in against her is something that you need pictures of, and the wheels of your mind turn as you imagine cropping these shots, turning in what she looks like right now from her belly button up. Tattooed abdomen tense, muscles lean and pretty, mouth open slightly with her tongue peeking out. She’s so sexy that she’d break the internet. 

“Baby, please”, her whine is almost a whisper.

“Asking so nicely for me”, your voice coos again as you keep going, fingers quickening as you snap pictures.

Both hands are occupied, you need her for the picture you have in mind, “Touch yourself, want to see both of our hands working on you”.

She bites her lip, fingertips feathering down her abdomen to do as you’ve said. You snap pictures as her fingers move downwards, trying to capture how pretty her finger tattoos look moving along her cherry blossom tree, and the contrast of her white nails against her skin. Her fingers slow below her belly button, walk a teasing path once she reaches the thin curls between her legs. Adjusting her hips slightly, you both make a sound when two fingers reach her folds. Her eyes stay on the camera’s lens as she starts circles on her clit, fingers glistening more with each picture you take. 

Smirking, the hand behind her head moves slightly, and you realize that she’s undoing the knot behind her neck. Her hand moves to her chest, pushing one side of her top down her to cup her breast. She arches upwards, pushing her chest out, mouth falling open on a small sound, posing even as she throbs on your fingers. 

“Mama”, she whines again.

You laugh, let your camera fall around your neck, and kiss a pathway along her inner thigh. Pausing, you draw the skin into your mouth with suction, fingers continuing inside her as you pause to leave a mark there. She whispers your name, almost a hiss as she grinds into her own fingertips. 

Kissing the spot afterwards. You pull back to take a few more pictures, watch the way redness starts to bloom in the mark you’d left on her thigh. Your eyes leave the camera’s view to catch her gaze. 

Biting your lip without realizing, you release it to murmur, “Mío. No importa lo que digan en los comentarios de las fotos que tomé de ti.”

“Soy tuya, mi vida”, her voice is almost lost in it, the pleasure and tenderness in her words.

“Gonna go get the strap”, you say, kissing her leg again before pulling your fingers free of her.

Your eyes hold hers as you take your fingers into your mouth, humming as you back off the bed. Releasing them as you turn, you find your car keys and shoes, glancing back at her one more time before you leave the room. Walking quickly, you locate her bag, almost closing the trunk when something catches your eye. Thoughts suddenly shifting, you reach for the shopping bag you’d forgotten there, closing your trunk afterwards. You’re back inside before the cool night air settles into your skin, shoes off and returning to her with intentionally quiet footsteps.

The way she looks from the doorway, when you come back into the room, makes you pause there to take a few more pictures. Her fingers still work on herself, gaze pointed downward at them. No posing here, just her, in a moment by herself, waiting on you. It only lasts a few seconds, her head turns to you, somehow alerted to your presence. You smile, capturing one more shot of her before turning your camera off. 

Walking across the room, you set the bags down by the bed, and remove your camera strap from your neck. Placing that on the mattress, you pull your dress over your head, slipping out of your thong next. You’d joked at her forethought about this, but you wore a new bralette, assuming tonight would eventually end in bed some way or another also. Black with light gold stitching, the boning of it dips low, forming V below your breasts. You leave it on as you unzip her backpack, finding everything she’d brought along. 

Stepping into the harness, you slide a small vibrator into the inner pocket of it, and set the strap and lube next to your camera on the bed. Your attention shifts to the second bag you’d brought in, removing two packages from it. You look around the edge of one, searching for where it’s been sealed shut.

“¿Qué estás haciendo?”, she asks, puzzled.

“Abriendo esto,” you say, distracted.

“Claramente. ¿Qué es?”, she continues.

“Silk hair scarves. I want to use them as tops, wrap them around me? Saw it on TikTok.”

She looks at you, “Okayy?”

Finally open, you pull it free of the package and start on the second one, “Nice headboard, right?”

Groaning, her voice is lower when she asks, “¿Que tú qué? ¿Quieres hacerme qué?”

“¿Qué piensas, cosita bonita?”, your voice is amused even to your own ears.

“¿Amarrarme las manos?”

“Mi jeva también es inteligente”, you laugh, moving towards her, “Brazos arriba, hermosa.”

Her arms move as her eyes stay on yours, and you lean down to kiss her before continuing. “¿Está bien esto?”

“Sí, dios, porfa,” she smirks.

“Bien. Voy a atarte las manos, besar ese lindo tatuaje y luego-”, you stop as you focus on tying one wrist to the headboard.

Checking how tight it is, you slip two fingers between the thin material and her skin. 

“¿Y besarme hasta los qué?”, she asks.

Focused on her second hand, you don't respond. 

“Mama. ¿Amarrarme las manos y besarme hasta los qué?”, she repeats, slightly louder.

“Paciencia, nena, damn.”

Satisfied after checking her second wrist, you move back to look at her. “Ohh, honey”, you sigh at her. 

She’s a vision. Hands tied above her, arms stretched long and pretty, bikini top still askew on her chest, naked from the waist down, glistening and swollen between her legs, with the mark you’d left on her thigh prominently on display. You reach for your camera again, groan at how good she looks through the lens. She licks her lower lip, bites it, blue eyes wide, an innocent expression despite the rest of her. 

“Serving so much face”, you laugh.

“Just face?”, she asks, arching her back slightly, legs opening wider.

“And body, damn girl.”

She smirks as you continue taking pictures, eventually moving to fully remove her bikini top. It’s tiny, and was barely covering any of her, but the effect of her being fully naked now hits you just the same. Your eyes wander over her, tracing her curves and tattoos, getting lost in patches of freckles.

“I just feel like we’re missing one thing here”, you say, tapping your lip as you feign contemplation.

“Oh!”, you pretend to suddenly recall, holding one finger up.

You walk towards the bag you brought in, pulling out a third hair scarf, and begin opening it. 

“¿Para qué es eso?”, she asks.

“Tú, por supuesto.”

“¿Dónde necesito otro? ¿Vas a atarme los tobillos?”, her eyebrow arches up at you.

“No, mi reina. No allí”, you shake your head as you move towards her again. 

Leaning forward, you kiss her softly, hands smoothing her hair as your lips move on hers. When you pull back, your eyes find hers as you tuck her hair behind her ears. Her bright blue looks back at you curiously, there’s still lust there, playfulness, but she’s puzzled.

“Voy a extrañar esos bonitos ojos azules, aunque esto vaya a ser divertido,” you say as you hold the scarf up to her face.

“Ah, ya veo. ¿Me vas a poner una máscara? Tú eres la bandida, mamá, no yo. Mi pequeña diablo, joder.”

Laughing, you kiss her forehead before gently placing the scarf over her eyes. You’d saved the black one for this. It was likely still somewhat see-through, but the effect was the same regardless. You wrap it around her head tenderly, making sure not to snag her hair, and tie it to the side so that she won’t be resting her head on the knot. 

“¿Está bien, mi amor?”, you ask, kissing her forehead, then her nose.

“Estoy bien, you gonna fuck me now?”

“Always so impatient”, you murmur as you kiss along her neck.

She makes a sound as your pathway continues along her clavicle, finding a branch of her tattoo and following it downward. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve seen her naked since she’s gotten this, it has the same effect on you every time. You find yourself tracing it like this, kissing along the ink that weaves through her torso all the way down to where it ends, as often as she’ll let you. As with every other time, you get distracted by her breasts, the edge of her ribs, the little mark that reminds you how much you miss her belly button piercing, until you find yourself between her legs again.

You’re starting to feel impatient as well, but you can’t help pausing with her in front of you. Her hips tilt towards your face, tension in her abdomen, as you tease the area surrounding her clit. You barely press into her, tongue and lips feather light after you’ve already worked her over, avoiding the area you made the most sensitive. 

She whines your name, hips trying to shift into a position that moves you onto her clit. You laugh, kiss the sliver of it at the back, tongue flickering over it once before you pull back. Ignoring the sound of protest that she makes, you turn your camera on again, snapping a few pictures of the way she looks with her eyes covered. 

“Ver, so fucking pretty for me. Mío, todo mío. Solo para mí”, your voice goes softer at the end, as you turn the camera off again.

Reaching for the strap, you slide it into place in the harness and smooth lube along it. Your dominant hand slips inside the harness, finding the small buttons on the vibrator and turning it on, moving it into its second setting. It makes your hips roll forward into the air, eyes fluttering closed for a few seconds as your clit throbs, relief in the sensation. It intensifies and shifts as you move towards her, vibration pressing into you differently with motion.

Moving between her legs, your hands fan up her thighs, fingertips tracing the mark you left. You reach for a pillow and position it under her hips, tilting them into the angle that you want her at. One hand reaches for the strap, and you slide forward until your hips are nearly flush with hers. Smirking, you shake your wrist slightly, tapping the strap against her clit repeatedly. She arches into it, grinding against the length of silicone as you continue. 

You laugh, but as you lean forward to kiss her the sound changes, going breathy as her hips press the vibrator against your clit. Slightly nervous, your mind wanders to something she’d asked for once, far enough back that it’d be surprising now. Kissing her softly, when you pull back you press your fingertips against her lips. She parts them, taking your fingers into her mouth. The way her tongue moves against your skin sends shivers up your spine, but this part isn’t new. 

Your own tongue moves in your mouth, and you push your fingers downward in hers, watch her lips part open. Shifting your hips back slightly, you press the tip of the strap into her entrance. You spit into her mouth, hips fully sinking into hers at the same time, bottoming out as you release the downward pressure of your fingers against her tongue. She moans against your fingers, hips freezing as her back arches up off of the bed. 

“Being so good for me already”, you say as your hips pull back, slamming forward to grind in again with more pressure.

Your fingers slide out of her mouth, moving between you to find her clit. “Dios mío. Tú… fuck mami”, her voice is ruined with it already, tone low and breathy.

“Yeah?”, you joke as your fingers speed on her.

Her only response is your name, barely a whisper.

“Cariño, tu pussy es tan dulce pa'mí. Todo mojado e hinchado, tan rosado que casi estás rojo, taking it so well. Mi buena nena.”

She moans at the end of your words, and you thrill with it, decide that you should take pictures before your mind is too far gone. Pointing the camera at the space between your bodies, you take one-handed shots of the way you move together, the way the strap disappears into her softness. Once you’re satisfied, your mind sparks with an idea, and you change a few settings. Now set to take pictures on a timer, you place it on her sternum, pointed towards you. So far all of these pictures have been more for you than her, but she’ll enjoy these, watching the way you work into her image by image. 

It’s also an excuse to ignore the camera, work into her like you’ve imagined all day. You close your eyes for a moment, let yourself sink into how this feels without the added layer of the camera in your hand. Drawing your attention to every detail of sensation intensifies it, makes you more aware of the building feeling that’s already started within you. Even when you’re in control, when she's literally tied up, she’s getting you there too quickly. 

Your eyes open, taking her in again, focusing on her for yourself instead of the camera. Somehow she’s yours, you get to enjoy this with her, make her this soft and vulnerable in it. She’s the most gorgeous person you’ve ever seen, in real life, pictures, anywhere; and yours in all of the ways the rest of the world doesn’t see her. Emotions rises in you, and it makes you smile to yourself, how even in this you fall more in love with her.

“Soy la mujer más afortunada del mundo. Te tengo así. Toda atada y vulnerable para mí. Eres demasiado hermosa, es irreal”, you almost whisper at her.

“Creo que soy el afortunado en este momento, mi amorcita”, she bites her lip afterwards, arching into you.

Her motion jostles the camera, and you laugh, “Might have a blurry picture there, V.”

“Mmm, looking forward to looking through them with you later.”

“Gonna be awhile before you’re looking through anything, darlin”, you laugh softly as you continue into her.

Minutes pass without notice, you’re absorbed in her reactions, following the artwork on her abdomen as the muscles there twitch. Her head tips back against the pillow, arms stretching long where you’ve tied them. The sound she makes has you throbbing against the vibrator, grinding into her with more pressure almost on instinct, you can’t help it. 

“That’s it, give it up”, you manage, almost as far gone as she is.

She does, loudly, wrists pulling against her restraints. It’s enough to force you into it with her, with a suddenness that makes your head rush, vision going dark for a few breaths. Her legs jerk as you lose track of yourself, hips more harsh than you intend as orgasm overpowers you. Deeply engrained habit, or your last remaining brain cell, reminds you to slow your fingers on her.

Her body softens under you gradually, eventually almost limp under you, already loose and relaxed as you start to come down. Your hands slide up her sides as you lean in to press kisses along her sternum, exhaling her name against her skin as your hips slow. Laughing fondly, you pull the strap from her body, kissing her with emotion before you move away fully.

You slide the harness from your hips, leaving the strap and vibrator in place. Lifting her foot, you slide it up to her knee before setting it down. It isn’t until you lift her second foot that she catches on. 

“¿Qué estás haciendo ahora?”, she asks, voice low and breath uneven.

Smiling even though she can’t see it, you’re sure she can hear it in your voice, “I think you know, lift your hips for me.”

Making a sound in her throat, she lifts her hips as you asked. You adjust the harness slightly, moving it into place and adjusting it to fit her snugly. One hand slides into the harness to position the vibrator against her, and you use those seconds to kiss along the top of the harness, laughing again as her hips twitch. 

Satisfied, you move yourself into place over her, nudging her legs slightly inwards with your knees. One hand braces yourself on her chest as the other stabilizes the strap, and you close your eyes as you sink down on it. Moving slowly, you keep her sensitivity in mind as your hips start to grind into her. You’re both immediately post-orgasm, but she has a vibrator directly on her clit as you roll against her. It gives you a chance to savor those first few moments, different nerves sending new sparks of pleasure through you as fullness settles in. 

When your eyes open another ripple of sensation floods you, reminded of how exquisite she looks spread out for you in this manner. She’s biting her lower lip, and you notice the flush spread across her chest as it moves with her breath. Her hips rise into yours, meeting your rhythm even as the rest of her seems to be coming back. 

“You’re all fucked out for me, so sweet, que rico”, you murmur at her, fondness in your voice.

Reaching for the camera, you move it off to the side, pointed towards you and still taking pictures on a timer. Leaning forward, you kiss up her sternum, then along her neck until you reach her lips. You’ve flattened out on her, skin to skin and grinding into the strap. Urgency taken care of, you want to be closer, touching all of her that you can. You’re not in a hurry now, and your lips find hers softly, emotion behind them as you press into her. 

You kiss her cheek when you pull back, smile at her and miss her response. The blindfold has been fun, it had its moment, but you use one hand to undo the knot holding it in place. Her eyes blink open at you as you pull it away, squinting at the light. One thumb grazes the corner of her eye, smiles at the way her lashes flutter over that perfect blue.

“I missed seeing all of your face”, you murmur.

She smiles, says “I missed seeing a lot of things”.

“You’ll see them. I love you.”

“Soon I hope. I love you too,” she says, and your mouth covers hers at the end of her words.

The sensation of her rolling into you, flutters of vibration from the toy against her pressing into your clit each time she bottoms out, steals your attention as her lips move against yours. It’s a different level than before, just as good, but almost entirely in another category. Each movement feels intentional, slowness gives time to process each ripple of pleasure, enjoy one another more fully without the undercurrent of desperation. It builds in you uniquely, you’re aware of the way your arousal grows layer by layer.

You shift your hips, changing the angle slightly, and cry out at how immediately right it feels. The strap rolls into the sensitive spot along your inner wall, this angle allows you to grind into that with more pressure. She smirks, pressing up into you perfectly, doing everything that she can even with her hands out of play. You’re the one in control, theoretically, but she has you quickly spiraling away from any pretense of it. 

Your hips roll against her with more force, pressing into the spot where you feel the vibrator most intensely. Her mouth drops open, smirk gone, eyes fixed on yours. 

“That’s it” you murmur, tracing every detail of her expression, “come with me, love”.

She nods, eyes dropping to your lips, and you move forward to kiss her. The intensity of it matches the rhythm of your bodies, more sensual than desperate, but urgent nonetheless. You’re not sure which of you is moaning into the kiss at any given second, it’s both of you, almost communication as your bodies work towards orgasm together. 

Her sound breaks as her breath falters, back arching as her hips jerk into yours, and you moan her name against her lips. You feel yourself pulse against the strap, your own pleasure overflowing at the way she tenses underneath you, and orgasm tears through you. The kiss is lost to the sounds you both make against each other’s lips, hips fighting through release together. 

Your eyes find hers as your breathing slows, and she smiles at you softly.

“How much energy you have left in you?”, you smirk at her.

“Enough, why?”

“If I untie you, think you could fuck me on my stomach, look through the pictures we just took?”

Her eyes answer before her words do, “Please, yes.”

Smiling, you lift off of the strap, moving upwards on her to untie her wrists. You kiss each one as you release it, and she rolls her wrists dramatically. 

“How long have you had me tied up for, what time is it?”

Glancing at the clock, you laugh, “It’s three.” 

“¿Cómo que ahora son tre'?”

“¿No dije que toda la noche, amor?”

“Y lo decías en serio, maldita sea.”, she laughs as you trade positions.

You roll to your stomach, sliding one pillow under your hips, then place the camera in front of you without turning it on. Glancing back, you watch as Vera moves into position behind you. One of her hands fans up your ass, the other stabilizes the base of the strap as she moves towards you. She bites her lip as she presses it in, eyes focused there as she moves forward in you. 

Groaning, your eyes flutter closed as she bottoms out. You always love it from behind, it’s incredible no matter the angle, but you roll your hips to adjust it slightly. Your clit throbs against the pillow when your hips find the perfect spot, sparks of sensation fluttering through you each time the strap digs in there. You find yourself reaching for the air vibe, moving it underneath you and positioning the small window on it against your clit. Turning it on, you flip it into its second setting, groaning as you press the fluttery sensation into yourself as Vera continues behind you. 

Her eyes find yours finally, and she leans forwards, kissing along your shoulder when she fully settles against your back. “Let me see the pictures?”, she murmurs against your skin.

You shift your focus forwards, turning the camera on and finding the start of today’s pictures. She continues behind you slowly as you flip through the actual photoshoot, pausing to say, “Do you see why I was so worked up all day? My god.”

She laughs, saying “I felt the same, you know”, grinding into you with more firmness.

Her rhythm is almost teasing until you reach the most recent pictures, the ones you’ve taken alone. Your scroll slows to a crawl once you reach the shots of you sitting on her face, her eyes looking up at you with her tongue on your clit. 

“So fucking pretty with your mouth on me”, you murmur, and her tempo increases behind you. 

“Could spend all night there”, her voice is almost a whisper against your ear. 

You grind back into her, following her rhythm as you move through the pictures of her undressing before the camera. Pausing, you moan when you reach the picture of her with her bottoms pushed down to her knees, ass up and smirking at you. 

“Pussy so gorgeous you have me throbbing on the strap looking at it”, you groan. 

Moving to the next series of shots, she rolls up onto her hands, almost in push up position, and fucks into you harder as you watch yourself eat her out from behind. Somehow she found her energy again, each thrust makes your body bob upwards, jostling the camera in your hands with her rhythm. The sounds of her hips slamming into yours fill the room, competing with the video as it starts playing. 

You watch the way your tongue moves through her folds, flickering over her clit relentlessly as your fingers move in and out of her. 

“It was right about here where I started worrying that I was going to squirt? The pressure you were putting on the back of my clit was so fucking good. I started getting that nagging feeling?”

Her words make you clench against the strap again, and you increase the setting on the toy under you, biting your lip as that fluttery sensation increases on your clit. You focus intensely on the screen, watching her face turn towards the camera, knowing what comes next. 

“Fuck, I'm gonna come watching this”, you manage to breathe out. 

“Me too”, her voice rasps, and she sounds just as affected by this as you are. 

Her position changes, kneeling behind you now, and she adjusts the angle of your hips as her moan in the video goes high pitched. You watch yourself trying to nod as your mouth continues in the recording, working into her furiously. She pounds into you now, giving it to you exactly how you need it as you watch her come undone on screen. 

You hold your breath, trying to hold your orgasm at bay as you wait for hers on camera. She breaks apart beautifully, body twitching with it as she makes that gorgeous sound. Then you watch as she tenses further, zoom in quickly enough to see the flood of moisture burst over her folds, watch your tongue flicker through it as it starts to roll down your chin. It pushes you into orgasm now, and you hit the button on the toy again, intentionally pushing yourself into overstimulation. Breath comes back to you loudly, crying out as you pulse against the strap, grinding into it with everything that you have. The view of her on the camera continues to push you forward, arousal impossibly high as you continue to watch. 

Her hands clench your hips as she slams into you, rhythm lost when she joins you in orgasm. Her sounds behind you now, combined with the sounds of her on screen, push you so far into it that the wave of overstimulation almost feels like another orgasm starting. Pleasure crashes over you fiercely, a brightness of all consuming sensation. You can’t keep your eyes open through its intensity, and your arms shake as you try to hold the camera in place. Every fiber of you is lost to it, mind blank and body locked into a pattern of rolling back into Vera.

Everything creeps back into your awareness slowly as orgasm subsides. Vera’s breathing behind you, her fingertips on your hips, the camera in your hands. Swallowing, your eyes flutter open, the video on the screen has ended, and your fiance moves slowly behind you.

One of Vera's hands leaves your hip to run up your spine, tenderness in the gesture. “Mama, que rico, te amo.”

“I love you too”, you manage to breathe out, trying to turn your gaze towards her.

She laughs, pulling out and moving along your side. Smiling, she kisses your nose, then your lips. “Wanna look through the rest of the pictures, but we’re both getting tired.”

You watch as she shimmies out of the harness, going on her knees for a moment, moving the camera to the side of your pillow. She positions herself on top of you, lining her core up with your hip as her fingers slide down your stomach.

“Flip through the pictures, love? Let me get you one more time?”

Groaning, you reach for the camera as her fingers slip through your curls. Your hips twitch when she parts your folds, clit pulsing against her fingertips as she smooths over it. Her touch makes your eyes flutter closed briefly, breath catching in your throat as you feel her grind against your hip.

“Still so wet for me, all sensitive. Come on baby, one more.”

You make a sound in your throat, eyes opening and focusing on the camera in your hands. The next series of pictures is your fingers moving in and out of her, and you murmur without thinking, “So pretty taking my fingers, I can’t even.”

She whispers your name, and you continue through the pictures, watching as her fingertips travel down her abdomen to join yours. You were half out of your mind with lust when you’d taken these, but they came out as intended. The contrast of her white nails against the pinkish red of her folds, tattooed fingertips working circles image by image as yours continue inside of her, is breathtaking.  

Her fingertips speed on you as she presses into your hip with more firmness, almost sliding along you now with how wet she feels against your skin. You’ve reached the picture of the mark you left on her thigh, and her breath flutters across you as she says “It’s hot when you leave marks on me.”

The pictures progress through you watching her from the doorframe, tying her up, and strapping her. Conversation is lost at this point, the way that she grinds into you says it all, and you find yourself equally wordless with the circles her fingers work against your clit. She’s making small sounds now, uneven breaths against your skin, and you feel the effect that the pictures have on her. It’s a head rush, the duality of enjoying these moments with her, and seeing the way she reacts to the images afterwards. 

You start making sounds of your own as you reach the pictures of you riding her, hips moving into her fingertips as the feeling rising within you grows. “So fucking sexy for me. Wanna frame these, hang them up above our bed”, she groans, lust in the low tone of her voice.

“Ver, I-”

“Shhh, I know. Ven pa'mí.”

You try to keep flipping through the pictures, but it’s erratic, you’re more lost in her fingers on you. The pictures are hot, but the way that she grinds into you steals your attention. She’s almost as far gone as you are, clit pressing into your hipbone harder than you’d expect after so many orgasms. Her breathing is as uneven as your own, secondary to pleasure in this moment.

You’re loud when it finally peaks in you, back coming off of the mattress with it. After the entire day, all of the last few hours, it’s so much that the corners of your eyes water as sensation overtakes you. Her free hand finds your jaw, turning your face towards hers. She analyzes your expression, fingertips tracing the moisture at the corner of your eye. 

Your name falls from her lips before you see it in her eyes, and her hips jerk against you as orgasm finds her. Gaze fixed, your eyes stay with her bright blue as you both move through it together. She takes you to the edge of oversensitivity, fingers the slightest bit too much against you, perfect. 

Camera forgotten entirely, you curl into her as you start to come down. Her fingers gradually slow against you, almost soothing as her hips reach a soft grind into your hip. She says your name again, so soft that it’s barely audible, and your lips cover hers on impulse. As always, even when it starts desperate, there's emotion here. It’s more transparent at the end, as your bodies finally give in to the hours of movement.

She pulls back, laughing, “Ya está amaneciendo, cariño. Deberíamos dormir.”

“Solicitaré una salida tardía para la reserva”, you groan.

“¿Puedes moverte?”, her voice is playful.

You smack her arm lightly, more so than you intended, muscles almost staticy. “Give a girl a minute, god.”

Life is life-ing. Summer is differently busy with my schedule and I'm adjusting to what that looks like with sleep and finding writing time. I just got back from a trip, I'm going into a long work stretch and then likely going on another little trip, but I do have the Cosmo story like 70% done. I'm hoping when I'm off of this work stretch and not traveling that I'll have it up soonish.

Being so transparent, through the summer I have a lot less free time. I hadn't really thought about that, pictured what it would look like with writing. You might see me slow down a bit here, or become more focused on editing my original storyline with longer gaps between new things. I'm not vanishing, just busy and tiiiiiiired.

This was requested. Somehow BIAF crept in and BnB is making it's way in too, I can't help myself.

I was wondering if you could write a story about this one song by taylor swift “august” so basically like a Situationship, but like miko it’s too busy with writing songs and going on tours that she doesn’t have time to make you her girlfriend, but the reader feels like she’s using her and in the end, miko asks her to be her gf ??😭😭 idk if this even makes sense but i love this song smm and it reminds me of miko idk whyyyyyyy

❤️❤️❤️❤️ 

OK OK OK OK, so this is the beginning of the ask. Stay with me through the toxic, hahaha, I promise it'll get cute. Eventually, after it's really really angsty and hard. Like years down the road.

Nervous: The beginning, part two

x reader, fluff, angst, graphic smut. Inspired by Young Miko lyrics, but Vera is a fictional character.

***WARNING: smut, explicit lesbian sex, 18+ only***

Continuing to fulfill the multipleeeee requests for toxic/jealousy, which will play heavily into upcoming sections as well. 8,260 words.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The last few months have felt like a new season. Like bulbs planted in the fall and forgotten, long harbored feelings which you intentionally ignored have been allowed to bloom. It feels like something coming to fruition, cared for and nurtured into growth. The pattern of your days has shifted with this, new rhythms emerging. Everything seems shiny and fresh, with a sweetness that is almost unreal. 

Gradually, more and more of your mornings start like this. Slow, cozy, with quiet breathing just behind your ear, warm skin pressed along your bare back, arms loosely around you. Waking up feels long in the nicest way. The setting changes, but it doesn’t matter where you are, she’s your favorite part of these mornings. This undefined thing that’s grown between you feels magnetic, as time has progressed, you feel drawn to spend more nights with her, wake up with her almost half of your days now. 

Vera almost coos behind you, a soft, sleepy sound. Her arms tighten around you as she stretches her back, arching forward slightly into you as she stiffens. You make a soft sound in your throat, moving back into her naturally, and run your hands along her arms. She softens behind you, kissing your shoulder and making a pathway towards your neck. 

“Este es la mejor manera de empezar el día” she whispers against your skin.

“Estoy de acuerdo. Podría acostumbrarme a esto”, you murmur, as the butterflies in your chest rise for the thousandth time over these last few months. 

She laughs, little puffs of breath against your skin that tickle, raise goosebumps along your neck, “Mami, waking up like this with you is one of my favorite things lately.”

One of her hands moves along your side, feather light touch that feels teasing, moving downwards slowly as she speaks. Her fingertips light sparks, and you press your hips backwards into hers, the temperature in the room rising as you sense where this is headed. The pathway that she wanders along halts just as she bypasses your hipbone, drifts sideways towards your other hip instead of down. You exhale loudly and she laughs again.

“Impatient… I always know when we wake up like this, you’re going to be in a mood. I don’t even have to do anything to get you there.”

You laugh, “Not necessarily”.

Her fingers shift again, dramatically, suddenly lower and tracing along your slit. She presses in slightly and you groan, clit throbbing as you roll forward into her fingertips. She kisses your shoulder, and you feel her smirk against your skin. 

“Yes, every time. When we wake up, and I’m spooning you, you’re always this wet for me”, her tone is low, playful in a way that feels sexy, and arousal shoots through you.

Your head leans back into her shoulder, a small sound escaping you even at the barest press of her fingertips. She isn’t wrong, has read you like a book. Something about waking up with her behind you does something to you. Even though you tried to play it off, you knew how wet you were before she even touched you. It makes you blush, heat rising along the skin on your chest and neck. 

It didn’t take her long to learn exactly how you like to be touched. She’s observant, notices changes in your body that might be beyond your own perception. Her fingers work over you slowly now, two turning circles with delicious pressure. The sensation seems as though it blossoms through you, so good that you can’t help the way you grind into her. 

After all of her words, she soon starts pressing herself into you from behind, and you feel how wet she is against you. You bite your lip, eyes falling closed as the sexiness of that rolls over you. She continues to kiss along your neck and shoulder, and her free hand teases the underside of your breast. It feels like she’s everywhere, somehow building sparks of sensation in multiple places. It’s dizzying, you’re still groggy and she’s overwhelming your senses.

You cry out when her fingertips finally roll your nipple between them, arch into her fingertips. She laughs into your neck, a low tone that sends pleasurable chills through you. Her fingers pick up speed on you, just barely, with more pressure behind them. 

“Mami, already moving like that for me, can’t keep quiet. You’re not going to last long.”

She’s not wrong, the realization had begun to settle over you with her words. The slow way that she’s worked you over doesn’t delay it any, waking up on edge always makes the first orgasm come on quickly. The pressure in your stomach feels near bursting, you grind into her fingertips with as much force as you can, the sensation almost radiating through you. 

Your legs start to tremble, and you hold your breath as you feel the edges of orgasm start to roll over you. Her hand moves suddenly, and she starts kissing down your spine. Hips twitching in the air, you groan her name, and she laughs against your skin. Your head almost pounds, waves running through you at the denial, dizzying in a way.

Vera moves over you, presses her front along yours and kisses you softly. It’s brief, she doesn’t linger, and nips your lower lip as she pulls away. Your hands fall into her hair as she kisses down your sternum, hands tracing the curves of your sides. She detours, making a pathway along your breast, stopping to draw your nipple into her mouth. Her tongue flickers over it quickly, teeth scraping gently, and you pull her hair as your arch into her. 

She pops off with a laugh, continuing her trail downwards. You whine when she changes direction, moving along your thigh now. Her fingertips halt in their wandering, pressing into you firmly as she draws the skin of your inner thigh into her mouth. 

“Vera, we’re going to the beach later!”, you whine at her, releasing her hair to tap the top of her head lightly. 

Her only acknowledgment of your words is to dig her fingertips in further, suction remaining unchanged. You groan, imagining how the mark will look in your tiny bikini, obvious, claiming. Likely every bit her intention, ironically, even though there still isn’t any sort of formal relationship between you. 

That thought is interrupted when her mouth finally releases you, and she kisses the skin there tenderly before speaking, “Sé que vamos a la playa más tarde. Eso se va a ver tan sexy cuando estés en un bikini.”

“¿Y a quién voy a decir que hizo eso?”

She laughs, warm puffs of breath between your legs, “Nadie preguntará. They’ll just wonder.”

“Vera, I-”, your words die in your throat when she pulls your leg over her shoulder.

Her breath is teasing against you, you can’t see her face but imagine the smirk as she speaks, “You were saying?”

You groan, “Nothing, god”.

Laughing again, she says, “Are you sure? I mean, I was going to eat you out, but I don’t want to interrupt.”

Your fingers weave into her hair again, tugging slightly and murmuring her name.

“That’s what I thought. Damn babygirl, making me wait with you all pretty and wet in front of me like this.”

Her fingers spread you open half a second before her tongue runs up your clit, doubling back to repeat the gesture with delicious pressure. Your eyes close, conversation immediately over as your focus shifts to the relief of her mouth against you. You’re sensitive, aching from being denied by her fingers. This feels too good from the start, has pleasure building in your stomach right away. 

The fingers that she used to spread you open drop lower as her mouth continues, teasing a circle along your entrance before pressing forward slowly. She applies suction to your clit at the same time, tongue fluttering against your clit quickly. You tighten against her fingers, moaning as her knuckles finally bottom out against you. Her fingers curl along your inner wall, meeting the pace of her tongue.

It’s so good that it sends shivers along your spine, prickles along your hairline, and you grind into her mouth unintentionally. She moans into you, the vibration of it makes white spots appear behind your eyelids. It’s beyond sexy how much she enjoys this, all the little sounds that she makes, the enthusiasm behind it. 

You pulse against her fingers, feel yourself getting close again, “Porfa”, you whine.

She hums against you, rhythm accelerating slightly in response. 

“Déjame venir, porfa”, your voice breaks even at a whisper, words harder by the second.

The pressure behind her fingers increases, digging into that perfect spot inside of you. Tension builds, your thigh tightening on her shoulder, almost as though your body is trying to hold her there on its own. Your back stiffens, abdominal muscles clenching as pleasure ripples through you. 

“Baby please, I’m going to come. I want to”, your voice is barely audible, lost to how close you are.

Her tongue becomes rapid on you, and your hips arch into her mouth, head falling back as orgasm slams through you. It feels electric, an overpouring of sensation, waves of it sparking through you. She’s unrelenting, working you through it hungrily as you clench against her fingers. It’s exactly too much, tipping exquisitely into overstimulation. Your hips twitch as they grind into her tongue, clit tingling at the added friction.

She starts to gradually slow as you do, following the tension of your body. Her tongue is almost soothing against your clit, fingers still working gently on the spot inside of you. She kisses your clit, breath against you as she speaks. 

“So sweet for me mamacita, you’ve got me so turned on.”

You groan as her fingers slowly leave you, and arousal sparks through you as you hear her take them into her mouth. Your hands leave her hair to lift the blanket, find her blue eyes, watch her slowly pull her fingers back from her lips. Smirking, she moves up your body, hands on your jaw as she kisses you deeply. You both groan into the kiss, the taste of you on her tongue as her lips move on yours. 

She pulls back suddenly, glancing at the alarm clock, “We were supposed to pick Anna up ten minutes ago.”

Moving to the side of the bed, she pulls two pillows close to the edge, “Ven aquí, te necesito.”

The tone of her voice makes you shiver, and she pats the pillows in front of her. Moving towards them, her fingers tangle through your hair as she guides you. Your head is on the edge of the bed, pillows helping to comfortably prop you on your elbows. 

Your eyes meet and she licks her lower lip, “Saca la lengua por mí, cariño. Tenemos que ser rápidos, quiero venir tanto.”

Her fingers loosen in your hair as she steps forward, and your eyes lower to her core. Her thighs press into the side of the bed, and you make a sound at how wet she looks, glistening in front of you. Eyes darting upwards again, your tongue parts your lips, and you watch her face change as she pulls herself forward into you.

You’re immediately flooded with the pretty scent of her, taste hitting your tongue as she softly rolls into you. Her eyes flutter closed for a moment, neck going long as her head tips back. She rocks against your tongue as you work it against her, using pressure that meets the urgency behind her movements. 

When her eyes find yours again she looks lost, pleasure in her features as she speaks, “So fucking gorgeous, letting me grind my pussy into your tongue. So good for me.”

It makes you moan into her, arousal shooting through you at her words.

“Wanna strap you later, when we have time.”

Groaning, you nod as she moves into you. 

“I’m not gonna last long nena, you got me so worked up. Your fingers, please.”

Shifting the weight from one arm, your hand moves between her thighs, gathering moisture before finding her opening. You move them into her quickly, watching her face shift as you curl them into her inner wall. She’s stunning like this, open and vulnerable, need in her expression and movements. You watch the way her abdominal muscles contract as she clenches around your fingers, eyebrows tensing as a sound falls from her. It’s been months, but you still haven’t gotten over being able to do this to her.

Her hips rock between your fingers and tongue, grinding in deeply enough that the lower half of your face is coated in her wetness. She pulls you into herself by the hair a bit roughly, but the sting of it sends arousal rolling through you. Thighs softly trembling, tension visibly rises up her body as her hips become snappy. Her eyes lock with yours, lust and need and something else in their crisp blue, and your chest aches. 

She whispers your name a few seconds before she pulses firmly against your fingers, moaning and falling out of rhythm on you. Her back arches beautifully, body on display as she falls apart for you. The way that she grinds into you as she rides it out makes you wish that you had more time, your clit throbs as your tongue flutters against her. Your fingers rail into her the way you want her, the promise of later ringing in your mind. 

Her fingers untangle from your hair, sliding down to hold the sides of your face as her hips slow against you. It’s sweet, somehow, even while her clit grinds into your tongue. One of her thumbs strokes your cheekbone as her eyes stay on yours, tenderness breaking through lust. 

Wincing, her hips twitch as she pulls back from your tongue for a few seconds. She groans, grinding back in like she can’t help herself, eyes fluttering closed as she rocks in place against you. Your fingers return to a quick curl within her, savor the way she clenches against you, rhythmless aftershocks that make you moan into her.

After a few more deep grinds, her hips retreat from your mouth, hands remaining on your face as your fingers slow inside her. “Mami”, she gasps, chest heaving with her breaths.

You smile, lick your lower lip and look down to watch your fingers for a moment, “Want to strap you later too”, you murmur.

“¿Realmente tenemos que ir a la playa?”, she moans.

“No quiero”, you say, fingers quickening again.

Her phone rings, both of you turn towards the sound. “Fuck, Anna”, she groans.

She pulls away from you, your fingers slipping out as she moves towards her phone. You let yourself fall limp against the pillow, taking your fingers into your mouth as you listen to her side of the conversation. She’s late to pick Anna up, makes up a vague excuse about you having car issues. She glances at you, making a face at what you’re doing, telling Anna that she’ll be on the way soon. 

After she hangs up she rushes you into the shower, speeding you along as you both wash off together. You get dressed quickly, a tiny bikini with a wrap, hair simply done for a day in the water. You’re out the door within fifteen minutes, still aching as you climb into her car. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The drive to Anna’s is quick, and Vera reinforces the story about you car having issues.

“Raro. Últimamente parece que has tenido muchas razones aleatorias por las que se han estado viendo”, her tone is flat, knowing.

You feel yourself blush, face forward as Vera drives. 

“Eh, sí, supongo que no me había dado cuenta”, she says before changing the subject.

Anna doesn’t push it, but you wonder if it’ll come up again at some point. The rest of the drive to the beach goes by in easy conversation, and the early afternoon mostly does the same. The gathering is for a friend’s birthday, a large group of people flow in and out as the hours pass. Various people have control of the music at different times, and you find yourself dancing to a random assortment of songs with a medley of friends. You dance with Vera a few times, in between breaks in the ocean to cool off. The sun is gorgeous, but hot. 

At one point you find yourself tucked away, just the two of you, applying sunscreen. She murmurs, “Te ves hermosa. Es difícil no tocarte delante de todos.”

“Podrías, ya sabes. Tócame. No me importa”, you almost whisper, that feeling in your chest again.

“Tendríamos que explicarlo entonces. No quiero hacerlo todavía.”

You’ve switched roles, applying sunscreen to her back as you think before speaking, “¿Quieres hacerlo, en algún momento?”

“Probablemente, sí. Tal vez después de que salga el álbum. Pero todavía no sé qué pasará después de eso. Todo está tan ocupado ahora mismo, ¿sabes?”

Your fingertips rub sunscreen up the back of her neck, drifting through the pattern of the first letter of your name before smoothing it out, mind whirring. This conversation has been hinted at. Her EP will come out in two months. She isn't kidding that her schedule is busy, and the weeks ahead will mean less lazy mornings. You understand, but can’t help the thought of more after these last few months. 

You must have paused long enough that she noticed, and she turns her head to look at you, eyes on yours as she says, “Eres importante para mí, ¿sabes eso, verdad?”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Later you end up in a small group of friends, talking. Loose and tired after a long day in the sun, giggling about random things. You’re somewhat to the side of the main conversation, talking with a friend from high school. She’s asked if you’re seeing anyone, and you pause, respond that you aren’t. 

Glancing to your thigh, she laughs, and you feel yourself blush as you laugh in return, “No significa que no me divierta.”

She smiles, says, “Deberíamos cenar juntos alguna vez, ponernos al día.”

It feels bold, and you’re suddenly aware of Vera at your shoulder, not in this conversation but very adjacent to it. “Sería divertido ponernos al día, avísame cuándo estás libre para cenar.”

“¿Qué vas a hacer esta noche, después de esto?”

You’ve just taken a drink, swallow wrong and cough, clearing your throat afterwards. “¿Esta noche?... Oh, gracias, me gustaría, pero tengo planes esta noche.”

You’ve kept your tone light, but feel uncomfortable, and make an excuse about needing to find someone before they leave. Vera glances at you, and you’re certain that she heard the conversation now. You make a face at her, walking off in the direction of a different group of people. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Vera finds you about half an hour later, saying that Anna plans to ride home with Manuel. She asks if you’re ready to go, and you nod, wrapping up your conversation. You pepper her with small talk about old friends and the day on the way to her car, her responses are minimal and a bit flat. It continues in the car, the silences longer between topics. 

Finally, you can’t help but acknowledge it, “Estás callado. ¿Todo bien?”

Her fingertaps tap against the steering wheel as she pursues her lips, and she finally says, “Realmente no importa.”

“Parece que importa.”

She sighs, “¿Sabes que esa mujer te estaba invitando a salir, verdad? No solo para ponerse al día.”

You laugh, “Sí, lo sé. Y traté de mantener mi tono neutral con ella... ¿Estás molesto por eso?”

“No estoy molesto... Solo... Sorprendido de que describas esto simplemente como divertirse.”

Tilting your head at her, you think about your words before speaking. “Vera. I literally asked you earlier about addressing whatever this is between us. You have valid reasons why you don’t want to, I understand. But what am I supposed to say, if someone looks at the hickey on my leg, after I just said I don’t have a girlfriend?” 

Her fingers clench the steering wheel, “I don’t know.”

“Like I haven’t been seeing anyone else, regardless. It’s only been you since we started sleeping together.”

“Ok”, she says simply.

The wheels in your head turn, “Have you been seeing other people?”

She scratches her forehead, “I mean… We haven’t talked about defining things in any way.”

You watch her expression for a second, “Okay Ver. Then I don’t think you get to be upset about someone asking me to dinner. And if you are, you might want to think about why.”

“Are you mad?”, she asks quietly.

The question feels charged. “Not mad.”

“Then what?”

Sighing, you look away from her for the first time in this conversation, “A little hurt maybe. Jealous… It makes me realize that I need to think about things.”

“I get it, but we never talked about it, you know?”, her tone is slightly defensive, it rubs you a bit wrong.

“We didn’t. We’ve been spending a whole lot of time together though.”

“I don’t want that to change.”

“I’m just saying I need to think about it, ok?”, you look at her again, voice a bit more firm.

“Ok… ¿Todavía te quedas a dormir esta noche?”

You look at the road, take in your surroundings. She turns onto a road that you recognize as walking distance from her home, no more than two minutes away now. The conversations that you’ve had tonight have shifted the mood, and you definitely need to reflect on this, but you don’t want to tonight. Thinking will happen whenever you go home, you’re in no rush to do that.

“Sí, me quedaré esta noche”, you murmur.

Her hand slides just above your knee, squeezes. “¿Podemos simplemente olvidar esta conversación, disfrutar de nuestra noche juntos?”

Your hand whispers over hers, settling there as you say, “Podemos olvidarlo por esta noche y disfrutar de nuestra noche.”

She pulls into the driveway, parking the car before leaning over the space between your seats. Her free hand cups your jaw, thumb stroking your cheek. Even with everything swirling through you, cloudy emotions, those bright blue eyes over her little patch of freckles kicks up butterflies in your chest. Her gaze flickers to your lips and back again before she speaks.

“Mamá, lo dije antes, eres importante para mí.”

“Tú también eres importante para mí… ¿Pero tal vez de manera diferente?”, you almost whisper the last part.

“No, no de manera diferente. Yo también lo siento”, her words end when her lips meet yours, softly.

Your chest aches, emotions divided. It doesn’t take long, a few seconds of her lips against yours, for the butterflies to win the current battle. She kisses you tenderly, like something precious, thumb feathering along your cheek. The way she holds your jaw feels intimate, claiming in the sweet way, like you’re hers even when you aren’t. She’s been doing this to you for as long as you can remember, seeds of it planted long before your first kiss, somehow entrancing you. Your body responds to her viscerally, as though magnetized, everything in you responding without logic. It’s too good, dangerous when you think about it.

She kisses you long enough that the motion activated lights in her driveway have turned off. She rests her forehead on yours, eyes finding yours as soon as they open. You melt at her expression, settle into the comfort of that blue that has remained unchanged over the seasons of your friendship. Whatever this is, all of the complicated details, it’s been so long coming that it feels inevitable. You can’t help the way you feel, how your body responds to her. A few months of exploring this with her still hasn’t satisfied the years of longing, flirtatious flirtship that slowly gained tension. You don’t know what will finally make that feel fulfilled, but you’re nowhere near it yet. It makes you very aware of how easy it would be to get hurt here.

Her hand squeezes your thigh, “¿Vamos adentro, mama?”

“Sí, vamos”, you murmur. 

You follow Vera to her front door, trying to let your thoughts settle as she unlocks it. She holds the door for you, closing it behind you as you toe out of your shoes. After a long day at the beach, in and out of the water, barefoot in the sand, you open your mouth to suggest a quick shower. Vera’s lips are on yours before words form, hands on your hips as she guides you towards the wall. 

The softness from the car is gone, her hands hold you in place against the wall, mouth firm on yours. You gasp in surprise, and she takes the opportunity to slide her tongue into your mouth, hands sliding up your sides now. She presses into you, fingertips tightening on your ribs. It’s a rush, a sudden shift in tone, arousal shoots through you as the surprise of it fades.

She pulls back suddenly, eyes wild on yours, “¿Ducha?”

You agree, following her, heartbeat in your ears. She turns the water on, grabbing fresh towels as you start to undress. You’re down to your bikini bottoms when she turns, gaze openly predatory, scanning along your curves. She groans, moving towards you to reach for your hips. 

“How many times have I seen you naked now? It doesn’t matter, breathtaking every time”, voice low as her hands push your bikini bottoms down.

Her lips find yours again, one hand on your jaw as you reach for the strings on her bikini top. The knots come undone easily, still damp from the ocean, and you shift backwards to let the fabric fall from between you. Hands moving to her hips, you push her bikini bottoms and sweatpants down simultaneously. Her lips smile against yours, hand leaving your jaw as she shifts to move everything down her legs. Stepping out and kicking them to the side, she straightens out, fingertips on your hips. She pulls your bodies together softly, skin to skin, and makes a sound into the kiss. 

One hand wanders down, broadly palming over your core. Laughing into the kiss, she pulls back slightly, eyes mischievous on yours, “This wet already? We’ve barely done anything baby.”

You laugh in return, curling one finger back to flick her lower abdomen, then moving downward to slide two fingers between her folds. “Yeah? Being all sassy about it when you’re the same way.”

“Shower. Shower before I change my mind”, she murmurs against your lips, pushing your hand away with a laugh as she pulls backwards from you.

She steps in before you, holding one hand out. You take it, stepping in after her. Biting her lip, she pulls you into her body, kissing you softly as her hands slide down your sides in the water. When she finally pulls back, you take turns scrubbing each other, eyes wandering as you mostly stay on track. 

Just as you finish rinsing the last of the soap from your body, her body forces you into the side of the shower. Her breasts press against your back, skin slick with water between you, and she whispers your name against your shoulder before kissing it. One hand follows the pathway of your back downwards, fingers fanning out over your ass. Her fingertips dig in as she nips your shoulder lightly with her teeth, releasing both at the same time, hand moving downwards further.

Her hips move away from yours, free hand drifts there to pull your hips back from the shower wall. It makes your lower back naturally arch, her intention clear as her hands shift on you. Her dominant hand wraps around in front of you, sliding through your curls, as her other hand slips between your legs from behind.  

“Eso es todo, bombóncita. Tan buena para mí.”

“Porfa”, you blush at the whine of your own voice, bouncing back at you in the shower.

You can’t help the sound that escapes you as her fingers brush over your clit, eyes fluttering closed as your cheek presses into the cool wall of the shower. She starts slow circles there as her other hand drifts in from behind, gathering moisture at the back of your folds, brushing against a spot on the back of your clit that feels unexpectedly good. You arch into it, groaning at the dual sensation of both of her hands on you like this. 

Her lower fingers move towards your opening, one fingertip tracing a feather light circle of you, then briefly pressing in just enough to tease. You move into it, obvious, beyond being shy about it with her. 

“¿Quieres algo?”, she asks, voice low. 

“Fuck me, please”

Her fingers move into you halfway through your last word, “So gorgeous, begging for it, up against the wall. Mojaste de todas las maneras.”

The feeling of her fingers curling into you feels impossibly deep from this angle, traveling up your spine and making your neck tip back as it prickles there. Her fingers on your clit speed, working a pattern that has your toes curling on her shower floor. Your breath catches, holding as you focus on it, biting your lip. 

Delicious seconds tick by, sparks of white fluttering behind your eyelids, sides fluttering with your held breath. “Respira para mí, hermosa”, she teases, a low laugh at the end of her breath.

Changing her rhythm inside of you suddenly, she fucks them in and out of you, grinding into your inner wall each time her knuckles bottom out. It forces your breath back, loud and irregular, eyes springing open simultaneously. You look over your shoulder, eyes fluttering against the spray of the shower, take in the way she watches her fingers moving within you. Unaware that she’s being watched, the earnestness of her expression strikes you. It’s lust, need, but it's the way that she looks mesmerized that makes your chest ache. The way that she looks at your body makes your head spin, so sexy that it makes you clench against her fingers.

She moans, licking her lower lip, eyes finding yours like she knows you were watching her all along. You whine when her hand leaves your clit, reaching to turn the water off. It moves to your ass, and she uses it to brace herself as she drops to her knees behind you. 

Eyes still on yours, she says, “back up for me a bit, bend over.”

Her fingers still move inside you, the sound of it louder now with the shower off, wet and rhythmic. Her words send chills through you, your body following her instructions without thought. It shifts the angle of her fingers in you, and it changes further as she moves under you. Fingers leaving your ass to move through your folds, two fingers open you up from behind. 

Eyes leaving yours to look downwards, she moans softly, sliding into place until her breath is against you as she speaks, “So fucking pretty for me, my god. Just had my mouth on you this morning, te necesito de nuevo ya.”

Your fingers slide against the shower wall as her mouth falls over you from behind, hungry, overstimulating at first with the desperation of it. Her pace matches her words, tongue working into you like she needs this as much as you do. The feeling of it from behind, let alone this much so quickly, makes you cry out. Overstimulation surges through every nerve ending, the corners of your eyes water with the sudden intensity of it. 

She’s done this for you once before, slower, thong pulled to the side with your dress pushed up over your hips. That was mind altering, this is too, but differently so. This is rough, claiming, demanding. She’s taking you, as much for her pleasure as your own. You feel how much she wants it, enjoys it, with her every movement. 

“Fuck Ver, god damn”, you moan, voice breaking.

She hums into you, so good that you pulse against her fingers as they rail unrelentingly within you. The feeling in your stomach rises too quickly, she just put her mouth on you, but the overstimulation has you close already. It teases at the edges of your perception, impending, the bodily knowledge of it settling over you in a layer. Every nerve draws to attention, everything within you rising at once. 

Her slight acceleration, the sound that she makes into you, tells you that she knows how close you are. It hits you again how she’s always aware of where you are, observing you like a science, body language telling her more than anything you say. Everything in you boils over, pulse in your ears as waves of sensation overcome you.

Unrelenting on you even in orgasm, it’s so overstimulating that your legs feel weak, trembling as your hips roll into her despite it. The fingers holding you open move to your lower abdomen, bracing you from under as you twitch against her. You lean into it, letting yourself go almost limp to the overwhelming bursts of pleasure. It presses your neck against the shower wall awkwardly, but moving would change the angle of how she works you through it, and you stay in place. You find yourself holding your breath again, wanting to savor every second of this, knowing that memory will never recall it right. 

She doesn’t stop even as your body starts to come down, intentionally pushing you further into overstimulation. Your legs shake, high pitched sounds come from you, small and as weak as you feel. Your body tries to twitch away from it, finds resistance in the wall, and you whimper. Laughing, she kisses your clit, fingers continuing as she pulls back. 

“Mírame”, she says, voice wrecked. 

Your eyes flutter open, dampness at the corners of them, head turns to catch her eyes. Her expression makes fresh arousal radiate through you, somehow, even in the aftershocks of orgasm. Your clit throbs, another weak sound bubbles out of you at the need in her gaze.

“My bedroom? Let me strap you, bent over like this?”

“Yeah”, is all you can manage, barely a whisper.

“Need to give it to you hard. You’re too sexy like this, I can’t even ma.”

Her fingers slide out of you, blue eyes locked on your as she slides them between her lips. Time feels long, pressed against the wall with her eyes holding yours. When her fingers leave her mouth, she smirks, fingertips digging into your lower abdomen.

“Can you hold yourself up, shaking like that?”

You groan, “Yes, god Vera.”

She laughs, hand leaving your abdomen as she stands. Your eyes leave hers as you slide upwards along the wall, harder than you’d like to admit with how unsteady she’s made your legs. You feel a towel press into your shoulder, turn to take it. 

Your eyes meet hers again as she asks, “Good?”, tone playful.

“Yes, shut up”, you say, snapping the towel away from her.

You dry off, supporting yourself on the wall as your legs continue to tremble. She smirks at you as you hang the towel up, leaning towards you. Kissing you softly, her hands move your arms around her neck. Tapping your thigh, she pulls back from the kiss.

“Legs around my waist, you’re not walking mami.”

“Oh come on”, you protest, one leg starting to step over the side of the tub.

She reaches for it, guiding it towards her waist. The movement throws you off balance, and your chest falls into hers, “You really gonna be this stubborn?”

Groaning, you let her lift your other leg, wrapping it around her waist. Smiling smugly, she kisses you once before starting towards her bedroom. Her hands slide on you slightly, damp naked skin, and her fingers dig into your ass as she carries you. Your arms tighten around her neck, and you giggle into her skin, peppering kisses there in between laughter.

When she reaches the edge of the bed she leans forward, hands moving to your thighs. You take the hint, releasing your grip on her and letting yourself fall backwards. The bed makes a soft sound as you land, and you smile up at her. Within a breath of time it feels as though the air in the room shifts, her expression changing as it comes over you. 

Her eyes stay with yours for a moment, tension growing between you again, until she murmurs, “En cuatro patas pa’mí, babygirl”.

Your eyes track her reaching for the bedside drawer as you start to roll over, and the ache between your thighs returns with full force. Glancing over your shoulder, you watch her sift through objects in the drawer, laying things out on the bed. Her eyes flicker to you, and she smirks as she steps into the harness. She goes through the familiar motions of putting the strap into the harness, tucking a vibrator into it, turning it on and adjusting the placement on her clit. 

She smooths lube along the strap, wiping her hand on a tissue before walking towards you. Sinking further onto your elbows, you arch your back, rolling your hips at her. Making a sound in her throat, her hands fan out on your ass as it moves. One hand drifts lower, supporting the base of the strap as she lines it up with you. 

True to her word, she pushes forward into you quickly, grinding in firmly before repeating the motion. She doesn’t ease you into it, digs into the perfect angle roughly. It’s everything that you’ve wanted all day, since she mentioned strapping you this morning. She’s great with her fingers, but there’s something different about the sensation here, the feeling of fullness and strength behind her hips. You move back into it on instinct, your bodies falling into rhythm together intuitively. 

Her name falls from you on the end of a moan, legs shaking again already. She weaves her fingers through your hair, pulling your head back slightly. “Sí, puedes decir mi nombre de nuevo. Como si alguien más pudiera hacerte esto... ¿Crees que esa chica de la playa podría hacerte temblar así?”

You gasp, shock at her words flaring through you. “Dios, Vera. ¿Celosa? I wasn’t going anywhere else tonight.”

“It’s not about the night… Tócate para mí.”

Grip tightening on your hip, she rails into you harder. Your head bobs backwards slightly where she holds you by the hair, in time with her movements. Bracing yourself on one arm, you slide the fingers of your dominant hand downwards until you reach your wetness. Swollen from her mouth on you, the first few circles of your fingertips feel incredible with everything that she’s currently putting you through. You can’t help the sound that comes from you, or the way your eyes flutter as you try to hold hers.

“Es esto. La manera en que estamos juntos. Mami, es que tu energía combina con la mía.”

Groaning at her, you try to dodge admitting that you understand what she means, “Vaya. Eres la única persona que conozco que puede ser tan poética sobre esta hoe shit. The way our energy combines. Vera?”

She grinds into you firmly enough to shift you upwards on the bed, on your tiptoes now. You bite your lip, eyes holding hers. “Am I wrong?”, she asks.

You roll your eyes at her, and she continues, “Can anyone else do this to you?”

“Vera.”

Her hips stop completely, one eyebrow arching upwards. “Answer the question. Dime.”

Clicking your tongue at her, “You know that you could be fucking me, instead of being annoying? No, no one else is fucking me this good, Ver. Ok?”

Smirking, she pushes it further, “Has anyone ever?”

“Really?”

Blinking at you, she says, “De verdad.”

“No. No one else has made it this good for me. ¿Eso es suficiente?”

She tugs your hair slightly, shaking her head at you, “Sassy”, but her hips resume.

It’s somehow more intense after the pause of conversation, and you feel yourself clench against the strap. It’s a deep enough movement that it pulses along the outside of you, your fingertips sense it as they continue against your clit. For all of her words, she seems as affected by this as you are, a sharpness behind her hips now.

Letting go of your hair, her nails scratch lightly down your back before she smacks your ass. It ends on your hip afterwards, fingers digging in to aid in the way she moves in you. Her eyes hold yours as you move your head from side to side, stretching your neck now that it’s free. Glancing downwards, she moans, expression changed by the sight of what she’s doing. 

Your fingers speed once more, as you feel yourself getting close again while you watch her, bite your lip to keep yourself quiet as you take in how noisy she’s gotten. Your clit throbs as you pulse against the strap, all of the sensation coursing through you at near bursting. You hold your breath, try to focus on her, want to watch her come while you do.

Sparks flash across your vision as you keep yourself back, a small sound escaping even as you continue to hold your breath. Her eyes flash to yours, briefly assess your face, and she moans. Her fingers feel hard enough to bruise as her hips start to fall out of rhythm. Her back arches, abdominal muscles tensing as she grinds into you deeply. The sound that she makes as orgasm overtakes her pushes you over the edge with her, and your breath returns so suddenly that you feel slightly dizzy as you fall into it. 

She’s insistent in orgasm, railing into you hard, snappy and without rhythm. The arm supporting you lowers to its forearm, deepening the angle slightly, so good now that your eyes can’t stay open. You roll back into it weakly, thighs trembling, wanting to move but almost trapped with the depth of sensation. 

Pleasure makes the moments feel long, you come down slowly together, her grip loosening on your hips as they gradually soften on you. Your eyes flutter open, catching hers and moaning softly at her. Fingers halting on yourself, you position that arm under you, needing the support after holding yourself up on one arm. She continues to move into you, a slow roll now, perfect pressure as aftershocks roll through you.

“Took it so good for me, mama”, she almost coos, grinding into you as she speaks.

You hum at her, worn out in the best way.

She laughs, “You’re looking all fucked out. Thought you wanted to strap me?”

“I do. You can ride me.”

Voice joking, “Oh, I see. I’m doing the work either way?”

She pulls out of you, smacking your ass as she slides out. “Move up on the bed”.

Groaning, you stretch your legs before moving upwards, rolling over and positioning your head on the pillows. Your head rolls to the side, watching as she shimmies out of the harness. She almost tosses it towards you, the strap lands on your thigh wetly. 

“Thanks, Ver”, you deadpan, reaching for it with a smirk.

She climbs into bed as you move it up your legs, pushing up against the bed with your feet as you pull it upwards. Adjusting it on your hips, you reposition the vibrator on your clit, turning it on and into its third setting. You make a sound, eyes finding hers as you settle back into place on the bed. Straddling your thighs, she smooths lube down the strap as she holds your gaze. 

Using one hand to grip the strap, she moves over it, pressing it against her entrance and looking down. Her eyebrows tense as she slides onto it, biting her lip and making a noise. The pressure against your clit feels delicious, vibration pushing into you as she moves downward on the strap. The way that she grinds in as she bottoms out makes you arch against her, your clit flooded with overstimulation again, so much that it makes your hips twitch. Your clit pulses, inner walls clenching against nothing as you moan her name.

Your eyes scan her body, arousal climbing as you watch her, impossibly sexy as she falls into rhythm on the strap. Her hips roll gorgeously, abdomen flexing and breasts moving in time with the motion of her body. The way that she straddles you opens her up beautifully, swollen, deep pink folds on display. She’s visibly wet, the sound of it in the room as she bottoms out. The way that she swallows the strap makes you ache, so hot that it almost makes your thoughts stop entirely. 

“So fucking pretty, riding it for me. Not sassy about it any more, huh?”

She licks her bottom lip, hips picking up speed, “It’s too good to be sassy, dios.”

Gripping her hips, you press up into her as she bottoms out, and her back arches as she cries your name. 

“Oh? What’s that baby? You saying my name now?”

She groans as one of your hands slides between her legs, finding her clit to start quick circles. “Should I start asking you questions? You letting these other girls strap you?”

Her eyes find yours, arousal and something else there, “No”, she murmurs softly.

Your eyes hold hers, repeat her next question at her, “It this good with them?”

Hand falling to your sternum, she whispers your name, repeats “No” again.

You find yourself at a loss for words now, eyes exchanging things that neither of you say. Biting her lip, her hips speed on yours, but her eyes don’t leave yours again. They stay with you as she rolls herself over the strap, and you watch as the conversation leaves her eyes, pleasure taking over again. It’s contagious, watching her take herself like this, her blue eyes showing every bit of how much she’s enjoying it, has you climbing with her. 

Your fingers speed on her clit and her eyes leave yours for a moment as they flutter closed, you glance down, watch the way her abdominal muscles tense. Her clit throbs against your fingertips and you moan, entranced by her moving against you, impossibly soft and glistening with wetness. 

Need sparks through you, sudden and sharp, and you slide your fingers from her. Reaching for her back, you pull her down against you, then roll your bodies to change positions. She gasps in surprise as you straighten out over her, thighs settling in between her legs, knees pushing hers apart. Your fingers return to her clit, resuming your previous speed as your hips increase theirs to match.

Her head falls back into the pillows, wide eyes finding yours. You smirk at her, watch the way her body moves upwards with the force of your thrusts. Each time you bottom out you’re able to grind into her with more pressure than before, so good that you feel yourself throbbing as you press into her. 

Your fingers speed on her, willing her closer as you start to worry about how much longer you’ll last. Your hips pick up as well, but this also drives your arousal higher, the sound of it loud in the room now as you slam into her. She watches you with hooded eyes, little noises falling from her regularly.

“You gonna come for me baby, on your own strap?”

“Yeah”, she nods, voice wrecked.

“Give it to me, Ver”, your voice breaks.

She bites her lip, moan escaping as her back arches. Tension works up her body, muscles seizing, legs trembling. Her hips jerk and she cries out, orgasm visibly slamming over her. It releases something in you, your hips suddenly working with power you didn’t know they’d held back, grinding into her harshly at the end. Head falling limp against the pillow, her eyes slam closed as your own orgasm hits you.

You rhythmically clench against nothing, clit digging into the vibrator with each press into her, louder than you mean to be. Her eyes spring open again, find yours, and whispers of shared pleasure are exchanged there as they stay fixed together. It hits you beyond physicality, settles inside you somewhere else, even as orgasm continues to wash over you. 

Weak with it again, you lean into her, lips finding hers needily. The kiss finds a rhythm of its own as your bodies start to slow, becoming almost soothing as you come down together. It feels lovely, occasionally broken by small moments of one of you pushing into it further, chasing bursts of sensation. 

When your lips leave hers, escaping for breath, you press your forehead into hers as you pull your fingers from between your bodies. She smiles at you, tiny, tender, and something in your chest aches. Kissing her forehead, you murmur her name against her skin. 

Afterwards you take her into your arms, pull her tight against you, skin to skin. Her hips line up with yours like puzzle pieces, perfect, like you were meant to fit together like this. The scent of her hair washes over you as you fall into sleepy conversation, lighthearted and flirtatious, comfortable in a way that only years of friendship brings. You try not to think too hard about how much you enjoy this, how you’re not the only one getting these nights with her.

Firstly, I'm truly so, so blown away by how kind y'all are. I'm new to writing and it means a lot how much you guys enjoy and engage with it. I appreciate it more than I have words for. 

Secondly, I do think things are getting a bit overblown on Twitter, specifically. It kinda feels like a witch hunt over there.

Two things ultimately: I'd rather err on the side of caution, I don't want to be writing anything that would make Miko uncomfortable. Additionally, I've seen fandom dynamics like this get really ugly, and I'd rather be outside of the scrutiny that I see on Twitter. 

I've been asked a lot how I feel about the name change. I guess I feel two things. A touch relieved, honestly, because this has been weighing on me for months. I feel better knowing that moving forward, what I'm doing isn't a grey area. But it does feel bittersweet in some ways that I hadn't really thought through. That part is harder to explain, I'll probably get long winded here.

I don't think I'd have ever found writing without this. I caught a vibe, took it too far perhaps, and this space made me feel "safe" to turn thoughts into writing for the first time. Writing content surrounding Miko's lyrics, with the frankness with which she talks about things, made me learn to talk in a way I never would have before.

And through that, I feel like I've discovered things about myself that I wouldn't have expected? Finding this space and writing within it, side conversations with women here, has made me realize a few things. I've kinda always felt like I'm "too much" in some ways. Like maybe my drive was higher, lol, too feral, too freaky, too sexual, however you want to put it. I've always tried to push that down, shy away from it. Now I realize that I we just don't talk about these things in our everyday lives, so we don't realize that it's a lot of us, haha. This writing is the first place that I've really let myself explore it, look at it outside of the box that my life allows, put it into words and dialogue. It's felt like I've had a space that I can do that, for the first time. It's not something I'll probably ever be able to explore in my real life, but it's something that I enjoy being able to in writing. 

Realizing that it's not just me, having a space to explore thoughts like this, put words to it, isn't something I would've ever expected. I genuinely don't think I'd have started writing without it. So if I've done something "wrong" here, it's lead me to something that I unexpectedly enjoy, and realizations about myself?

I've had a lot of messages asking if I'm going to stop what I'm doing here. No, I don't plan to. I'm changing a few letters in a name, but I don't see anything else changing. I think calling it all Miko inspired, not using her given name, takes this out of the grey area... I enjoy writing, the community here, fulfilling requests and such. Regardless of the Miko of it all, the name that I use in writing, this isn't something that I plan to just “turn off” at this point. I don't know that I could, now that I've started? I enjoy it, and it kinda serves a purpose for me now. I don't plan on going anywhere or changing anything else.

A few people have asked if I'd consider changing the name back at any point, I said this to a couple people, and I'll say it here too: if Miko comes forward and says she's fine with fanfiction, I'll change the name back. But I'd either need a public statement or some sort of DM from her, lol. I don't really see either happening.

All of that being said, this discourse is a lot. I'm spending more time reading / engaging with it than I want to be. I could be writing now, could've written last night, but I'm doomscrolling Twitter watching everyone argue. Part of the name change was trying to stay outside of that discourse, but I'm still letting myself fall into it.

Unless Miko says something about it, and it impacts what I do here, I'm trying to stay out of it all moving forward. I want to write my little stories, not fall into fandom dynamics.

I'm going to make myself stay off of Twitter for a few days, remind myself that I write stories about a character, enjoy the deluxe tracks, and try to write. If I seem a little slower to respond than normal, it's because I'm trying to focus on the next section of Toxic, and being too online is keeping me from that ❤️❤️

Hi, I'm going to eat my words.

These ones, specifically.

I've been reflecting on the Forbes article.

I'm 75% done with the next part of the Toxic storyline, and I have a pit in my stomach in a way that I haven't before. I don't know what Miko was talking about specifically in that article, but whatever it was, it makes me uneasy considering what I write.

Repeating a few things for backstory:

I happened upon Miko fanfiction in like September-Octoberish? Prior to that, I'd never read RPF, just regular fanfiction. Kinda got hooked, kept up with it until DND came out. I tend to craft wandering stories in my head at all times, and a few songs on DND made my mind go wild with ideas. Impulsively, I wrote them, a first for me. I posted them, and didn't think anything would happen. I didn't expect anyone to interact with it, let alone ask for more? So I did, and I had a lot of fun with the interactions here. Requests started driving things, and that added a new layer.

Somewhere about a month in, I started to reallllllly think through the concept of continuing to post this content. I openly considered changing the name here. As it got more longwinded, it got more explicit. I started to really harp the idea that I'm writing a character, and truly, in my mind I am. She's Miko inspired, music fuels a lot of it, but I can't think of her as anything but a character at this point. To do so makes me uncomfortable.

Again, I've openly toyed with the idea of changing the name in this. Same writing, same inspiration, different name. In addition to feeling less invasive, it would also give me more freedom to discuss things that I currently don't. I leave family/friends interactions vague, because I feel even more uncomfortable in that territory. Changing the names would give me that freedom, to go more in depth in those areas, because I'd just invent people. (example- PR trip, left family stuff super vague. I don't know her family's names. I didn't want to look into that, didn't want to touch her family with a ten foot pole... So with no knowledge of her family, I wouldn't feel guilty inventing a fully fictional one if I changed the name here).

Regardless of the intention behind the Forbes article, at this point, like 170k deep, it feels like time to change the name here? I've been uncomfortable about it for ages, didn't change it because obviously other people write. But again, my writing is very very explicit, and there is like two novels worth of it. It makes it feel different, to me? To put it bluntly, I pretty much write porn with enough plot to give it a story. That wasn't ever really my intention, but here we are, lol. I don't feel respectful using someone's given name with what I write.

I hope that if you've been following along, you will continue to do so. The name that I will be changing it all to (this will take me a hot second, please hold), is Vera. So nicknames can be things like Ver, V, etc. Other named people will change slightly too. I may make certain tattoos a bit vague. But other than that, I won't change anything else.

I'll still post in the same tags, because I will continue to say that it's inspired by Young Miko lyrics. But let's all think of Vera as some sort of being born of lyrics? The vibe of them, the things mentioned. She's a character based on the things that Miko writes, not Miko herself.

This doesn't change anything here in my mind, really, since she's been a character to me for so long. I hope it doesn't change anything for you either.

At the end of the day, I really respect Miko as a person and an artist. But person comes first? I don't think I can continue to post with her given name and feel respectful. Ultimately this comes from that. I want to be respectful of an artist/artistry that I enjoy/connect with, and I want to feel ok with the things that I write.

Edit- I really, really love this space. I love taking requests and sharing ideas. I love the side panicking about new music and such. I'll still be doing all of that. Please continue to send requests, know that I'll fulfill ones that I've taken, but I'll be using the name Vera. I appreciate y'all and this space so much, I won't be going anywhere or changing anything but a name ❤️❤️

edit 6/2 0006: Oneshots all reflect the name edit. Working on Sex in the Motel next xx

edit 6/3 2319: All edits here are done, headed to AO3 next.

edit 6/4 0006:

If you've been with me for awhile, you've heard me express discomfort with RPF before. It's a gray area. When I first started posting, I didn't think I'd still be writing months later, or to this length. I never planned to get this wrapped up in it.

This is copied straight from the top of my Masterlist, because I want it to be one of the very first things that people see on my page: "I consider the Miko that I write to be a character, a likeness of the person that we enjoy, but I don't know her or try to represent her. When I think too hard about it I'm uncomfortable with writing fictional storylines about a real person, I rationalize that by continuing to express that the Miko that I write is a character. I respect her as a person and deeeeeply hope that she never finds any of this, but if she did I'd want her to read that we think of the person written here as a character, in this context. This is all admittedly feral but trying to be as respectful about that as possible."

That all being said, what is mentioned in the article feels like in person interactions gone too far, from my perspective? Everyone that I've talked with has said the same.

If Miko ever formally acknowledges fanfiction negatively, or her team reaches out or something, I'd immediately remove her name/description from all of this. I joke about being willing to do anything Miko would ask, that includes taking her name/description out of this if given reason to.

I'll take this moment to reinforce that I'm writing a character here, and I hope you view it as such. The character is certainly inspired by lyrics/interactions and etc, but is a thought up personality in some little story that I've imagined (or you've requested).

Honestly I'd probably burst into flames if Miko ever messaged me, but truly, I'd LOVE clarity on this. I genuinely don't enjoy being in a gray area, and it's something that doesn't always sit 100% right with me. Someone do me a favor and ask her sometime? haha.

Edit:

Nervous: The beginning, part one

x reader, fluff, angst, graphic smut. Inspired by Young Miko lyrics, but Vera is a fictional character.

***WARNING: smut, explicit lesbian sex, 18+ only***

Continuing to fulfill the multipleeeee requests for toxic fics. Also fulfilling one for jealousy, which will play heavily into upcoming sections as well.

Part one of this series is here

This part takes us back in time, looks at a different angle of friendship that always had a lot of tension, finally falls into more. This is the beginning of toxic, and will progress further into that with the next section.

5,152 words.

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Pinks, oranges, and reds highlight the sky in the distance, and a slight breeze ruffles the leaves of nearby trees. You’re exhausted in the pleasant way, earned from a long day in the sun, in and out of the water. A few friends gathered at the beach in the early afternoon, spent the day together without further plans, following the day as it came. Your girlfriend was supposed to come, but stayed late at work, and you’d had a great day regardless.

You’re laying on a large beach towel, looking out at the ocean, watching the colors shift in the sky. Footsteps approach from behind, soft in the sand, and you look over your shoulder to see Vera. Her pink hair is wavy from drying in the wind, baggy hoodie open over a white bikini. She’s all tan skin and lean muscle, and your eyes can’t help but wander, watching the way her body shifts as she moves towards you. 

She smirks when your eyes find hers, a quiet acknowledgement that she caught you looking. You feel yourself blush as you accept the drink that she passes you. She settles in next to you, looking out at the ocean for a moment before speaking.

“¿Tu chica todavía viene?”, she asks, her tone neutral. 

“Sí, creo que sí. Normalmente se va por esta hora, cuando se queda hasta tarde.”

“Oh. ¿Sucede a menudo?”, she asks, meeting your eyes.

“Más recientemente,” you admit, leaving it at that.

“I see… I don’t know how to say this. I’ve always gotten the feeling that she doesn’t like me?”, her tone is joking, but you sense the nervousness there.

“What? She does”, you lie on instinct. She does not, it’s been a discussion.

Vera looks at you, it feels like being analyzed. “Why do I think you’re lying?”

“I’m not!”, you laugh, breaking eye contact to look at the ocean again.

You change the conversation, asking her to show you recent tattoos that she’s done. She pulls out her phone, and you lean towards her to look as she speaks. She’s humble, takes compliments shyly as you gush for the thousandth time about how talented she is. 

Taking out wired earbuds, she tells you that she wants to show you the latest piece she’s thinking about posting on Soundcloud. It makes you slide in even closer, shoulder to shoulder as you listen along with her. You tip your head onto her shoulder slightly, murmuring back and forth about the song. An ache settles in your chest for what feels like the hundredth time.

Leaned in, focused on her words and the music, you’re startled when you hear your name called. Glancing over your shoulder, your girlfriend looks over you, a stormy expression on her face. You read it immediately, know that this will be a conversation in the car. It hadn’t been a small lie, it’d been an outright one, every girl you brought around Vera seemed to dislike how close you were. If you were being honest, you weren’t sure you blamed them.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It had been a long day. Work was hard, and you came home to find an inch of water on the floor of your apartment. You called your girlfriend, who was out of town with family for the weekend, in hopes that you could go to her apartment. She’d accidentally taken both sets of keys with her, and you needed somewhere to go, so you ended up at Vera’s. Your girlfriend wasn’t thrilled, but she trusted you. 

You spend most of the night playing video games, smoking and snacking in between. This sort of hangout is a semi-usual occurrence, but normally other people come and go throughout the time. You’ve never spent an entire night alone with her, just the two of you the whole time. It almost has high school sleep over vibes, silly, a bit chaotic. There’s a tension under that though, occasionally acknowledged by long glances. 

Vera puts a movie on around three in the morning, and near the end you fall asleep on her shoulder. You don’t mean to, try to stay awake, but the sound of her breathing lures you there without your notice. It’s soundless, perfect sleep after an exhausting day.

You’re not quite sure how you shifted in your sleep, but somehow you wake up in Vera’s arms, spooning on the couch. She’s tucked in behind you, arms holding you against her body. You’re both wearing shorts, and your legs tangle with hers under the ridiculously fluffy blanket that you’re wrapped in. Her breasts press into your back as she inhales, the sound just behind your ear, each exhale whispers over your neck. It gives you goosebumps, and you become aware of the growing ache between your thighs. 

Moving slowly, you try to upwrap yourself from Vera without waking her. She groans in her sleep, arms tightening on you, and one hand drifts to your lower abdomen. It makes your breath catch, clit throbbing as your mind almost freezes.

Panic surges in you when thoughts return, you need to find a way out of this. Staying here was begrudgingly permitted by your girlfriend, waking up turned on in Vera’s arms wasn’t part of the agreement. You wait a few moments, listen to her breathing as arousal continues to flare in you. 

Eventually you try to move again, successfully free your legs of hers. You’ve peeled one of her arms almost fully away from you, when they pull you in again. This time she hums, kisses your neck, lips lingering there. A sound escapes you before you can stop it, and Vera’s arms twitch. Her body shifts behind you, a surprised sound coming from her as she allows you to move. 

Her arms loosen from you so suddenly that you tumble to the floor, eyes wide on hers when you land. You’re both silent for a moment, then break out in simultaneous laughter. Once the giggles subside, her eyes hold yours for a moment, and the temperature in the room rises suddenly. 

Your clit throbs again to remind you that you’re burning. Sitting now, you realize how wet you are. Your heartbeat hammers in your ears as you take in her wide blue eyes, sleep-ruffled hair, slightly askew tank top. She murmurs your name, tone low, a question in her voice.

Blinking at her, you say her name, a statement with a tone to it. 

You clear your throat, look away, and say that you should shower. When you look back before leaving the room, she hasn’t moved, eyes just as wide as she watches you walk away.

It’s almost as though your look back breaks something in her, and she suddenly stands, quickly taking long steps across the room towards you. 

Her hand finds the side of your face, and she closes the gap between your bodies. The lust in her eyes is plain as she stares into yours without blinking, as you feel her breath against your face. Tense seconds pass slowly, and you make a sound in your throat.

“Vera. We can’t.”

“Why?”, she whispers, her breath warm against your lips.

“My girlfriend.”

“I’ve never cared so little about that”, she murmurs dangerously.

Your pulse pounds in your ears, “You’re not thinking, you just woke up.”

Her fingers tighten in your hair, “I’m thinking perfectly fine. Just like I was all night last night, barely fucking resisting this.” 

“I care about it though. I can’t, Ver.”

Pulling away, your eyes drop to the floor as you walk to the bathroom, without looking back again. You spend your shower reminding yourself that you have a girlfriend, leave the water temperature cooler than you’d like. It’s awkward when you get out, but neither of you brings the interaction up again. 

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The music pulses so loudly around you that it feels like your body vibrates with it, it moves through you. You have a drink in one hand, and take another slow sip from it as Vera dances behind you. Her breath is on your ear, the smell of alcohol drifts past you as she talks over the music. 

“Te ves realmente bien esta noche. ¿Cuándo te compraste esta faldita?”

You smile, let her compliment drift over you, “Gracias, cariño. Ayer fui de compras.”

“¿Sin mí? Nenaa, you know I love your little dressing room fashion shows.”

Laughing, you say, “I was mostly after stuff you don't get to see me try on. The skirt was just too good to pass up.”

She grips your hips harder, grinding into your ass, “Why don't I get to see it though? I could help you decide what to keep, second opinion. And who you buying lingerie for?”

“I don't think your girlfriend would like that, Ver. And I’m single, anyone I want to, thanks”, you laugh. It has a tone of jealousy, but you don't care. 

The two of you have always walked a line. You've been friends for years at this point, but the unspoken tension has continued to rise. You see the way her eyes wander on you, and you know she's caught you looking at her. You've started to dance a bit closer than you should over the years, make jokes with each other that probably go too far. It’s gotten worse since that night at her house. Alcohol blurs the line further, and recently you drunkenly considered ignoring it entirely. She has a girlfriend right now though, and sometimes it does you good to say that out loud. 

“Enough about my girlfriend, thanks”, she says, pressing one hand into the center of your back. 

She pushes you down, but you anticipated it, lower your back as you pop your hips up at her. She smacks your ass once, lightly, and heat rushes through you when she pulls you into herself by the edge of your skirt. Her fingertips dip into the waistband, brushing against the skin of your lower back in a way that makes your clit throb. You make a sound that you hope she doesn't hear, grinding back into her in a perrero that feels inappropriate given said girlfriend, and how wet you already feel yourself getting. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Two weeks later you find yourself in the same situation, at a house party. Vera has been especially handsy all night, barely leaving your side. When the song changes you suggest going to smoke, and she leads you into another room.

It's crowded, smoke drifting through the air as people talk on couches. A small armchair is empty, and Vera falls into it gracelessly. She leans back, legs spread wide, and pats her lap with one hand as she pulls a joint from her pocket. The way that she looks makes you pause without thinking. She’s effortlessly gorgeous, so pretty that you’ve been struggling to keep your eyes off of her tonight. Her long brown hair is down with a few skinny braids running through it, tattoos peeking from under the sleeves of her baggy shirt, legs perfectly outlined in skinny jeans. 

You sit on her lap, sideways in the chair with your legs going over one arm, and catch her eyes. She smirks, awareness in her eyes as she lights the joint. Inhaling deeply, her eyes hold yours over long seconds, only breaking when you look down to take it.

“All on your own tonight? At a party by yourself? Girlfriends really trusting you tonight.”

Laughing, she says, “Don't have to worry about that anymore, I'm on my own.”

You wince, “Oooof, I didn't know. Sorry.”

She shrugs, “It's OK, just happened a few days ago. She couldn't deal with what my schedule looks like over the next few months, with the album wrapping up and talking about release stuff, let alone a tour.”

“You're about to be busy as fuck.”

“I am. Maybe it's better that I’m on my own for now?”, she says with a flat tone.

Her free hand lands on your calf as you talk, natural considering the positioning. It’s a distraction nonetheless, her fingertips whisper an unknown pattern along your skin, absentmindedly as she speaks. They drift a little above your knee, end an inch from the hem of your skirt. You’re achingly turned on, every brain cell caught on this, hardly paying attention to her words. If she barely moved her hand upwards, she’d realize how wet you are, just from her hand thoughtlessly wandering on your leg. 

She keeps her voice low in the crowded room, leaning in towards you with her breath against your neck. It triggers thoughts that you shouldn’t have. Those low tones, breath against your skin, fingertips wandering along you. It gives you too much insight into what being alone with her might feel like, sound like. Reminds you of that morning waking up with her, the temptation there.

You clear your throat, stand and excuse yourself to find the restroom. This situation is ridiculous, you need to calm down. After waiting in a short line, you lean against the door with your eyes closed, take a few breaths. Approaching the sink, you run cool water over your fingertips, glancing in the mirror. When you turn it off, you press them into the base of your neck, literally trying to cool yourself down. 

Mind reeling, you decide that you need to find someone else to dance with when you leave the restroom. You walk the opposite direction of the room you left Vera, returning to one of the spaces where people are dancing. Finding a few people you know, after a few songs you end up dancing with a pretty brunette that you’ve met a few times. 

A few more songs pass before you see Vera in the room. She’s leaning against the wide doorway, drink in hand, watching you. You feel yourself blush when your eyes meet, and she smirks at you. Your breath catches and you turn, spinning with your back to her, pressed up against the brunette that you’re dancing with. Her hands slide along your sides, and you try to focus on that, even though you’re wondering what Vera is doing instead.

Eventually, somehow, she ends up in your line of sight again. She’s not far away in the small room, dancing with someone you don’t recognize. Her hands are on the woman’s hips, and she’s whispering in her ear. Jealousy shoots through you, not uncommon in this situation, but unwelcome regardless. She’s gorgeous when she’s dancing, it’s hard to keep your eyes from scanning along her body. Your mind flashes to the way her fingertips feel pressed into your hips like that, that low tone that her voice had with you less than an hour ago. Her eyes find yours again, holding them as her hands start to wander. 

She turns the woman in her arms, and after a few moments pushes her back down. Her eyes stay on yours as her fingers grasp the top of the blonde’s jeans, pulling her back into her hips. It’s rhythmic, along with the music, and makes you wonder what you look like when you’re the one dancing with her like that. Your body reminds you how it feels, an ache settling in you as you watch her. 

You left the other room to escape the way she set you on fire there, but somehow she’s doing it differently here. Having the boundary of a girlfriend kept this at bay, to some extent. Before her current relationship, you were in one. This was always the pattern, you can’t remember the last time you were both single. It flares in you untapped now, dangerous, no other person to use as a restraint. 

Groaning, your eyes break from hers, and you find yourself making another excuse to leave another room. You end up out back, where several people are scattered around in the yard talking. Finding an empty space in the yard, you lie down in the grass, look up at the sky. It makes you feel invisible, unfindable.

Enough time passes that it feels almost true, but Vera eventually locates you. You hear soft steps approaching in your direction, not veering off towards the other clusters of people. She murmurs your name, amusement in her tone.

You glance towards her, kick your brain for the way it takes in how good she looks, and hum, “Hmmm?”

“¿Qué estás haciendo?”, she asks as she looks down at you, confused.

“Estaba ruidoso, y hace buen tiempo esta noche.”

She blinks at you, sighing before moving herself to the ground, and lays down next to you. Her hand falls to your far hip, pulls you to your side, facing her. She smirks, fingertips brushing a few strands of hair from your face, and you try to ignore the butterflies in your chest. 

“Se siente como si hubieras estado huyendo de mí toda la noche”, she murmurs, blue eyes focused on yours.

“No. ¿Qué?... No”, you respond quickly.

“Prácticamente en el momento en que dije que estaba soltero, empezaste a desaparecer.”

Your mouth drops open, and she laughs.

Her tone is amused as she continues, “¿Qué hay de aterrador en que esté soltera?” 

“Nada,  no tengo miedo”, you almost whisper.

“Then why are you running off, dancing with other girls? We always dance together, if our girlfriends aren’t here. And we don’t have girlfriends.”

Your mind rolls her words over, tries to decide if the statement is jealousy, or if you’re imagining it. Her eyes drop to your lips, stay there for a moment before they find yours again. You try not to notice the way she licks her lower lip, but you stop breathing when she starts closing the distance between you. 

Her eyes stay with yours as the inches become centimeters, your mind racing, panic rising in your chest. You watch as her eyelids close, a fraction of a second before her lips press into yours. Your mind shatters, countless thoughts and emotions in every direction. You’re almost frozen, eyes still open as you process the fact that Vera is kissing you. She’s soft against you, gentle, and small pieces to a puzzle that you’d always wondered about fall into place. 

She groans, and your eyes slam closed, hands reach out for her on impulse as your lips finally move against hers. You’re floored, arousal flaring as something else rises in your chest. Her tongue slides into your mouth as your bodies find themselves that last bit closer. The scent that she wears drifts over you as her hands move along your side, the same as dancing but different. 

It becomes heavy quickly, her hand moves to your thigh, traces the edge of your skirt. Your heartbeat is in your ears, pounding as you try to split your focus between her mouth and her hand. The way that you ache has grown unbearable, her fingertips so close to where your body wants them. 

Her hand wanders between your bodies, fingertips tracing the space where your thighs meet, just under your skirt. When they brush under the hem, feathering upwards, you make a sound into the kiss. You feel how damp your panties are against you, and the awareness of how near she is to figuring that out prickles in your mind. The first brush of her fingers against the fabric shifts everything, her lips suddenly hungry on yours.

Her fingertips trace over your slit, pressing the material into you, and your clit throbs at the tease of it. You’re aware of your current setting, want this so much that it hurts, can’t seem to stop her as her fingers start to roll broad circles over your core. It’s a torturous relief, your need grows by the second.

She pulls back from the kiss, eyes wild on yours as her fingers continue. Her breath is against your lips as she whispers your name, and you bite your lip. A few seconds pass, unspoken things passing between your eyes.

“He pensado en esto durante años”, she murmurs.

“Yo también”, you admit, your voice small.

“¿Podemos ir a algún lugar, porfa?”

You nod, and she starts moving. Your clit throbs at the loss of sensation, and you pull your skirt down as your stand. Glancing around, you note that it doesn’t seem as though anyone is paying attention to you. You follow her around the side of the house, wandering towards the long string of cars out front. Her car is several down the road, and your quick footsteps sound loud in the quiet night air

She unlocks her car, eyes darting to yours. You communicate wordlessly again, and climb into the backseat instead of the front. Her lips crash against yours the second the door closes, rough and needy. She pushes your skirt up gracelessly, pulling your panties down to your knees and abandoning them. 

When her fingers slip between your lips you both moan, your legs falling apart as she finds your clit. You arch into her, desperate for it, high on the concept of her fingers finally rolling against you like this. The years of build up make it feel monumental, and the smooth way that her fingers work into you tell you already that it’s going to be mind blowing.  

Her lips leave yours as she presses you backwards, pushing a sweater behind your head before she moves down your body. It’s cramped, a touch uncomfortable in the back of her car, but you don’t care as you watch her settle between your legs. Those familiar blue eyes find yours as her fingers tease along you, too gentle, and her breath against you makes you whine. 

She laughs, “Babygirl, do you have any idea how excited I am to finally do this?”

You return the laugh, “I think that I do”. 

Smiling, her eyes flicker downwards, darkening immediately. She makes a sound in her throat, “You’re so fucking pretty, this wet for me already mami.”

“Years Vera, been wanting this for years,” you admit as your fingers thread through her hair. 

She groans, closing the distance, tongue making a wide strip from your entrance upwards. Kissing your clit, her eyes find yours as she settles into a rhythm on you. Light at first, she builds you up, alternating between delicious pressure and teasing gentleness. She uses suction in a way that makes you arch, pull her hair a bit as a sound comes from you.

“You look so fucking good between my legs”, you moan at her.

At the end of your words her fingers find your entrance, whispering there before moving upwards and collecting moisture. When they slide down again, she gives you little warning before two press into you. She’s gentle but quick, curling them up into the sensitive spot along your inner wall. You clench against her, laughing her name a bit breathlessly. 

“God, you’re gooood at this. Of course you’d be good at eating it, damnit”

She laughs into you, rolling her eyes as she moves back slightly, “Girl, you know I’m a munch. I’m not quiet about it.”

You pull her hair, voice joking as you say, “Yeah, I know. But fuck, Ver… How can you be so shy sometimes, and then say shit like that when your fingers are where they are?”

Her fingers speed in you, curling firmly into that spot, and you cry out as you pulse against her. She laughs again, “That’s why. Gorgeous girl, gripping my fingers, making sounds like that? Could do this all day, like it too much to be shy about it once I’m here.”

The way that her mouth returns to you makes your eyes slam closed, a fierceness there that she’d held back before. Sparks radiate through you, along your spine, up to your nipples, raising goosebumps on your neck. Every flicker of her tongue tells you how much she likes this, she’s incredible, clearly paying attention to your every reaction and adapting. It’s precise, focused, the work of someone enjoying what they're doing. 

The rhythm of the fingers inside you changes, fucking in and out of you with a pace that matches her tongue. She somehow finds that perfect spot again from the first upwards thrust, the angle exact. Your thighs start to tremble, the feeling of the way she moves in you is so deep that it’s behind your bellybutton. 

“Just like that, please, oh my god”, you mumble, words falling out of you as the pressure inside you rises.

She keeps it consistent, allows the incredible sensations that she stirs up to build, racing and multiplying through you. Your eyes flicker open as her hand presses into your lower abdomen, and everything in you seems as though it goes up a step. The ability to speak is gone, you almost whine at her, try to tell her how close you are with your eyes. 

You sense that she sees it, watch as her pupils dilate further. She increases the firmness behind her mouth slightly, never leaving the pattern that brought you this close, and it shoves you over the edge. Your hips arch into her mouth, grinding your throbbing clit against her tongue, clenching against her fingers as they bottom out inside of you. She moans into you as her tongue continues, the slight vibration of it brings on a twinge of overstimulation. You’re loud enough that anyone walking by her car will hear you, but find yourself beyond caring. 

Your back flutters in rhythm with waves of orgasm, washing over you so deeply that your body moves with it. Each one is noted by the way you tighten against her fingers. Even as you start to drift down, she works you through it smoothly, kicking up fresh arousal in the process. It feels like your body struggles between two needs, calming from orgasm, and rising want for another. The slight oversensitivity that it brings on is delicious, and you find yourself grinding into it, chasing more.

She pulls back, fingers unceasing as she moves up to kiss you. It’s desperate, urgent, and you moan as you taste yourself on her tongue. Your hands find her hips, wander the top of her jeans until you find her belt buckle. Shaking with adrenaline, you undo it quickly as she curls into that sensitive spot along your inner wall. Her button and zipper are easy, one-handed gestures, and you push her pants and boxers down as much as the angle allows. 

Her fingers slip free of you, and you groan at the loss as she shimmies free of her jeans. Your eyes wander her long legs, biting your lip at the patch of thin curls between them. Reaching without thought, your fingertips part her folds as your eyes take in how beautiful she is here. Her hips twitch forward, pushing your fingers further, letting you see more of how pink she is here. 

“So wet, pretty girl. Want you on top of me”, you murmur.

She moans, pushing your hand out of the way,  ripping your panties the rest of the way off and positioning your legs to line your bodies up. “Need my pussy on yours, please”, and that need in her voice makes your head spin.

Your eyes watch unblinkingly as she presses into you, rolling her clit into yours smoothly, so good that you feel weak from the start. If her mouth felt perfect, this is beyond words. You’re both so wet that you almost glide together, all softness and friction, a sensation that you’d like to live in. 

She reaches for your chin, pulls your mouth to hers and kisses you roughly. Her hips speed to meet that pace, years of longing passing between you, need overtaking any thought of this happening slowly. This has been building for too long, was bound to happen eventually, and gentleness can come later. Her hips roll into yours firmly enough that you imagine her car rocking with the force of it. The sounds that you both make are muffled into the kiss, but still loud in the small space, with the quiet night in the background outside.  

When she pulls back her eyes are hooded, clouded with lust, and she asks with a low voice, “Porfa, dime que vendrás a casa conmigo después de esto.”

You laugh, “Sí, obviamente. O puedes venir a mi apartamento, no me importa. I want more than we can do in your car, Vera.”

She returns the laugh, a low, sexy sound that sends sparks through you, “Gracias a Dios, yo también quiero más. Y no voy a durar mucho más, te he querido por demasiado tiempo.”

Your hand finds the side of her face, “You don’t have to last mami, we have all night.”

Smirking, her voice breaks slightly as she says, “Just all night?”

You tap her cheek with your hand, the motion of a tiny smack without the force, “What do you think, Vera Marianna?”

“That I want more than one night.”

“Me too”, you almost whisper, your tone lost to lust and that unacknowledged feeling that you’ve always harbored for her. 

She moans your name, leaning in to feather kisses along your hairline before settling into the crook of your neck. Her breathing grows heavier in your ear, little sounds mixed in at the end of her exhales. You arch into her as her pattern changes slightly, hips more snappy now, grinding into you with increased friction. Your clit throbs against hers, and you feel yourself pulse against nothing, briefly imagine what’s to come later. 

“Please tell me you’re close”, she whispers, voice struggling with her breathing.

“So close”, you moan.

“Fuck”, she murmurs, hips somehow picking up more speed.

Her fingers dig into you, her face burrowing further into your neck as her back shudders under your fingertips. She moans, loud in your ear, the final push that you needed to throw you into orgasm with her. Your hips find a rhythm of their own, together, as pleasure overcomes you both. It’s more intense than the last one, rips through you so fiercely that your eyes slam closed as your breath catches in your throat. 

You dig your nails into her back, holding onto her tightly as you process the sensations pulsing through you. Your breathing comes back suddenly, chest heaving against hers as bright spots emerge behind your eyelids. It’s still so good, your hips want to keep moving even as hers begin to slow.

She laughs softly into your neck, “Cariño, tenemos que desacelerar si quieres ir a mi casa.”

Groaning, you slow your hips to meet her pace.

Laughter remains in her voice, “A doce minutos en carro. Son solo doce minutos, eso es todo.”

You kiss her briefly, nipping her lip as you pull back, “I know how you drive girl, I think you can get there faster."

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To be continued, more requests in the next section.

Nervous: After, part one

x reader, fluff, angst, graphic smut. Inspired by Young Miko lyrics, but Vera is a fictional character.

***WARNING: smut, explicit lesbian sex, 18+ only***

Fulfilling multipleeeee requests for something toxic, and a request for angry/hate sex. This will be the first bit of a multi-part little series, since I've had so so many toxic asks. The second part will fulfill a couple more requests that are posted on my masterlist, as well as a few that are in my inbox 😜😘

5,651 words.

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This is the highlight of your year. You go every year, it doesn't matter what you have to do to make it happen. This year felt different the moment the set list announced. You went breathless, staring at your screen unblinkingly. It had always been a possibility that she'd end up here, but you weren't ready for it. 

This feels like your space. Even if she was somewhere in attendance, it's a massive festival, you probably wouldn't see her. It's different when she's performing. Her face is everywhere, and she absolutely knows you're here, somewhere. It's been at least a year since you've been in the same space, and that was intentional on your part. 

All day your eyes scan the crowd, and you intentionally stick to crowded areas, trying to blend in. You've made it through almost the whole weekend without seeing her or anyone on her team, it feels like an accomplishment. 

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It's Saturday night, you're at an after party. You've had more to drink than you normally would, and you've strayed from your friend group to dance with a gorgeous redhead. She's in the tiniest little dress, the lights shining on her skin, and your hands have been all over her for an hour. You plan on going somewhere with her afterwards, but it hasn't been talked about yet, you've just been going on vibes. Her eyes tell you that this isn't ending here. 

She's pressed in front of you, grinding back into your body with enough pressure that an ache has built up. Your hands have slipped into the cutouts on the sides of her dress, fingertips trailing along her ribs. You whisper small kisses along her neck, eyes fluttering closed for a moment as you breathe her in. 

When your eyes open everything goes cold. She's no more than fifteen feet in front of you, dancing in a group. You don't know the girl that she's with. Vera's eyes drill into you, piercing blue across the distance. Your mouth drops open, and you feel your palms grow damp, hear your heartbeat in your ears over the music. 

Your hands loosen on the pretty redhead, and you talk loudly over the music, “I'm so sorry, I have a horrible headache all of a sudden. Can I catch you in the morning?”

She turns, and your eyes break from Vera to see the girl in your arms look disappointed as she says, “Do you want me to come with you?”

“Nah, I'm gonna sleep. You have fun. Let's catch up tomorrow, meet me out front?”

You pull her into your arms, eyes on Vera again and kiss the top of her head. You don't know if you'll see her in the morning, but you do know that you need to leave this party immediately. As soon as you turn, you start moving fast, sticking to the crowd as you quickly arrange an Uber. 

It says that it'll be there in seven minutes. Your eyes scan the crowd, and you don't see her. You send a quick text to a friend, explaining why you're vanishing. She'll understand. 

You burn five minutes in the crowd, eyes on high alert when you finally leave. The night air feels extra chilly with your nervous energy, but you see the car pictured on Uber coming down the road. 

“Te ves bien, ma”, you hear from behind you. 

It feels like the world stops. You don't turn, don't say anything. The car comes closer as you hear footsteps. 

“Baby. ¿Ni siquiera puedes hablar conmigo?”

You feel her hand on your wrist, and you snap it from her grasp. Your voice is quieter than you mean it to be, “Vera. No. Dije que no más, y lo decía en serio.”

Turning slightly, your eyes catch hers. “Good luck tomorrow, OK? But I can't, Ver.”

Her face is hard to read, “Will you be there?”

The car pulls up beside you, and you sigh, “I don't know. I haven't decided.”

“Mami… Could you be? I'd feel better, with you in the crowd”, her voice is quiet, there's vulnerability there. 

You hesitate. It was a lie, you know you'd be in the crowd, but you didn't plan on her knowing that. Sighing, you say, “I can be in the crowd, but that's all I am. Good night, Vera.”

Your eyes leave hers as you turn towards the car, and she grabs your wrist again. It hits you in the chest this time, and you can't find the energy to pull back. You let her guide you by the arm, turning towards her. 

Her blue eyes hold emotion that you don't want to see, and she pulls you into her arms. You stay still for a second, arms loose at your sides as hers wrap around you. She murmurs your name and it feels like something breaks in you, and your arms move around her as you inhale her familiar citrus and spice. 

“Ha pasado dos años. Te extraño”, the low rasp of her voice makes the corners of your eyes pickle. 

“Vera”, your voice warns.

“Nena, porfa, ¿Alguna vez me dejarás disculparme? I fucked up.”

“You apologized a lot, that's the problem. Too many times… I need to go. I'll be there tomorrow, in the crowd, but that's it. Please. I can't, I just can't.”

You pull back from her arms, and a tear escapes before your fingertips brush it away. It wasn't quick enough, her eyes flash with recognition. She murmurs your name again, and you hold her eyes for a moment. 

“Goodnight, Vera”, you say as you turn. 

Once you're buckled into the car, you glance out the window, and she hasn't moved. Her eyes hold yours through the window until the car starts moving, and you watch her gaze follow until the driver turns a corner. 

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You're anxious all day on Sunday. The day moves so slowly, your eyes on high alert again. You have to see her today, you agreed to it, but you'd like it to only be across a crowd. 

You didn't expect her to text you, assumed that was a line that she wouldn't cross, or that she might not even have your number now. 

V: “estoy nerviosa”

Sighing, you contemplate if you should answer. She has plenty of people that she can talk to about being nervous, it doesn't have to be you. You watch the screen long enough that dots appear again. 

V: “¿estarás allí?”

Y/N: “Dije que estaría allí.”

V: “¿podría verte de antemano?”

Her message is more dangerous than it seems on the surface. She knows what she's doing, should know better than to ask. You start to type, but stop when you see dots again. 

V: “sé que no debería preguntar. lo sé. pero estoy tan nervioso. siento que voy a enfermarme.”

Y/N: “You'll do great Ver, you always do.”

V: “you always say that. please? I wouldn't be asking if I wasn't this stressed.”

Y/N: “You always have people, where's Anna?”

V: “I don't though, you know what I mean”

Y/N: “Where are you? I'll find you but I want to smoke first.”

She tells you how to get to her, and you start off in her direction. You shouldn't be doing this, promised yourself you wouldn't give her an inch. This feels like letting her take a mile. 

You see her before she sees you. She looks small, sitting in front of what you assume is her trailer for the weekend, bundled up in an oversized hoodie. The hood is pulled so far forward that you can't see her face from this angle, she's tucked away like she's hiding. Smoke curls around her, and she takes another hit from the joint that she's holding. 

Her head lifts as you approach, and she stands. Walking towards you, she falls into your arms, head curling into the space along your neck. You find the joint, bringing it to your lips and inhaling deeply. She feels too good here, your chest hurts again. 

“Gracias, hace tiempo que no me ponía tan nervioso”, her voice is barely above a whisper. 

“Vera, siempre eres increíble. Estarás bien en cuanto tus pies pisen el escenario.”

“Tal vez. Pero hasta entonces, siento que me estoy muriendo.”

You stay like that for a few moments, holding her and smoking, and one of you eventually starts slowly swaying. The smoke slowly furls through you, the wheels of your mind calming, tightness in your chest fading. The bittersweet feeling lightens, and you let yourself enjoy the feeling of her in your arms. 

Her voice is somehow even quieter, “Nunca pensé que me abrazarías así otra vez.”

Sighing, you turn your face into her hair, inhaling her scent, “Solo esta vez, Ver. No más después de esto, porfa.”

“Cariño, han pasado dos años. Déjame demostrarte que no te haré daño.”

Pulling back, you meet her eyes, trying to convey that you mean your words, “Eso también lo has dicho tú… Look, obviously I still care about you in some fucked up way, I'm here. I can do this, but we can't talk about this shit, the past. And this is the last time, I'm serious. Don't ask again.”

Her eyes are wide, “Ma-”

You inhale deeply from the joint, shaking your head. “No. I'll say this, but that's the last of it. You broke my heart. Slowly, over time, and you knew you were doing it. You kept me dangling on a string, let me feel that until it became so much that I had to walk away. And now you're texting me, asking me to help with your nerves, like none of that happened. Like it hasn't been two years. Do you really think that's OK?”

She lowers her eyes, “No, but-”

“Great, now that we've established how fucked up this is for you to even ask. I'm here. We're not talking about it. Let me finish smoking this and take me inside, just fuck me. Don't be sweet about it, we both know what this is.”

You pull away from her completely, turning the other direction and blinking back the tears that she doesn't deserve to see. Looking upwards, you try to distract yourself with the perfect sky as you take quick pulls from the joint. 

“God damn, will you let me say anything? Don't you think I've grown up at all over the last two years? I treated you horribly, I fucking know. You've ignored every attempt that I've made to apologize. When I saw you yesterday this felt like a chance to make you finally listen. I didn't ask you to come here to fuck me.”

You turn again, “You didn't? Then why isn't Anna the kind of people you need right now?”

She opens her mouth, but doesn't say anything. 

“Exactly. Come on Ver. I'm not stupid.”

Closing your eyes, you take one final pull from the joint. You toss it to the ground afterwards, putting it out with the toe of your shoe. Rubbing your temple, you look up at her. Your eyes take in her posture and expression, and you soften. You don't want to process the emotion you see in her, but you can tell that your words stung. 

“I'm not trying to be a bitch. You hurt me, and I won't let you again. I'm here because I still care about you, obviously. And seeing you last night made me feel weak. This is stupid but I fucking miss you, and I know how you get when you're this nervous. So just fuck me, but that's it.”

You don't give her time to talk, pass her to walk towards her trailer. The door is unlocked, and you don't look back as you open the door. She's close enough behind you that it doesn't slam closed, and you toe your shoes off as she locks it behind her. 

Her hands land on your hips, fingertips pressing into the bare skin above your skirt. The instant sparks that go through your body annoy you, and you groan, frustrated that she still makes you feel so much with such little touch. Your eyes find hers, and her expression knocks you breathless. It feels like the air has been sucked from the room. The look that she gives you has lived in your memory, crystal clear and taunting. It's lust, but also an unnamed emotion that built unspoken, a look that settled into her eyes over time together. 

“Hard. I want it hard, Ver. I don't want to know my name.”

She nods, her body brushing yours as she slowly pushes you back into the door. “I want you so bad baby, been thinking about this way too much, for way too long.”

“Then do it, give it to me hard for all those times you thought about it.”

Her lips are on yours as soon as the words leave your mouth, her body flush against you as the door presses hard into your back. It’s immediately fierce, her tongue slides into your mouth without asking. You feel the need in her, but it’s pitched darker, laced with anger and hurt. It burns through you, and you give it back, biting her lip and reeling at the sound she makes. Her belt buckle digs into your stomach as her hips start to grind into yours, the edge of discomfort feels fitting, desire laced with pain. You roll into it as much as you can, trapped between her and the door, as desperation rises in you. 

Her hands move under the edge of your shirt, fingertips pressing hard into the bare skin on your sides. When she reaches the edge of your bra she groans, suddenly pulling back and grabbing your wrist.

“Cama, ahora. Necesito verte.”

She pulls you along without waiting for your response, taking you to her unmade bed. Your eyes catch her favorite pillow, the ridiculously fluffy blanket that she takes everywhere, and your memory uselessly recalls how good it feels to be tangled up naked with her under it. 

She brings you back to reality as her hands tag on your shirt, “Quítatelo, porfa”.

Your arms go up as she brings it over your head, taking your bra with it. Her eyes immediately settle on your sternum, fingertips reaching out to trace the blackwork of a year old tattoo. You’ve acquired several new pieces since she saw you last. Intentional, a process of trying to make yourself new, in a way. Now ruined, as her fingers brush over each line that made you feel like you no longer belonged to her. 

“Esto es nuevo”, she murmurs, fingers trailing to your nipple piercings next, “y estos también”. 

You shake your head, “No mi tatuaje más reciente, ese tiene un poco más de un año. Y los piercings tienen casi dos.”

“Me gustan, eres hermosa.”

“Nunca se suponía que los vieras, Ver. No son para ti.”

Her eyes flash, pain and anger obvious as her hands tighten on you. She lowers her head to one breast, tongue flicking over your nipple before she says, “Son para mí, hoy. Eres mío ahora mismo.”

Your fingers pull her hair, “Esto no me hace tuyo. I’m letting you fuck me, but I’m not yours anymore. No volveré a ser tuya.”

“Nunca dejaste de ser mío, déjame mostrártelo”, she almost growls, taking your nipple into her mouth.

Arching into her, you intentionally pull her hair hard enough to sting. It feels too good already, her voice against your skin, tongue flicking perfectly over you. You’re annoyed at how wet you are, feel your panties pressing damply against you. It’s like she feels it, one hand brushing along your thigh, moving inwards. You don’t want her to know, a feeling of dread mixes with arousal as her fingers trace towards your center. The growing moisture there is undeniable proof, your body betraying you, admittance that you still want this, her. 

She laughs against you when her fingertips reach the top of your thighs, brushing against your panties. Her lips pop free of your breast and her eyes find yours, fingertips pressing into your clit through the damp material. 

“Bebita, you’re fucking soaked.”

Her fingertips work broad circles over you, and you try to hold your hips still, biting your lip. It feels like relief, but also torture, your need feels like it multiples with each second that her hands are on you. Your body knows how good this will be, longs for it, is beyond ready even if your mind is protesting it. 

She pushes you backwards, “Bed, on the bed. Everything off.”

You push your skirt and panties down as you climb into bed, and she’s spreading your legs before you’ve even settled into the pillows. Her fingertips brush through your folds, eyes falling there as she moves between your thighs. You’re wet enough that she quickly moves them downwards, two fingers sliding into you without resistance as her other hand finds your clit. 

“No me importa lo que digas, estás tan mojada por mí. Esto es mío. Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen, dripping like you haven’t been getting it right. Look how desperate you are for it baby. For me.” 

“God, would you shut up?”, you groan, letting her hear the frustration in your voice.

“No. I’ll never shut up about how fucking wet you get for me. I’ve barely touched you. You still want me, this.”

“You’re impossible.”

“Maybe, but you still want me”, she says as her fingers fuck into you.

You groan, choose not to respond to her words, close your eyes and let yourself really feel her fingers working on you. Just as you settle into the sensation, her tongue licks a broad path up your clit. Your hips jerk into her mouth as you clench against her fingers, and she laughs against you, digging into the sensitive spot along your inner wall more firmly. 

Turning your thoughts off, you settle into the way it feels, already far too good. You’d never admit it to her, but no one in the last two years has been able to do this the way that she can. Your body melts into it right away, hips following her rhythm, perfect from the start. Even after all this time, she gives it to you like she has a map, like she does it every day. Her mouth works magic on you, and you find it hard to keep quiet as pressure already begins building in your stomach. 

She suddenly switches what she’s doing, falling into a quick pattern that she’s ruined you with too many times. There’s something that she does with her tongue here that you’ve never been able to figure out, and her name falls from your lips before your brain stops it. She moans into you, hand moving up your stomach to take one of yours. Fingers tangled together, she drags your hand down to your lower abdomen, flattens your hands out to apply pressure there. Everything increases with it, her fingers inside you feel more intense, the pressure in your stomach rises, her tongue sends shocks through you. 

Your eyes flutter open when she squeezes your fingers, catch her blue eyes in intense focus on you. It makes your chest ache, that look in your eyes has haunted your dreams and fantasies constantly. It’s a look that says “mine” again, communicates it without words. Your clit pulses against her tongue and she moans, eyes firm, absolutely an “I told you so”. You slide your other hand down, tangling it into her hair and pulling enough to sting slightly. 

The edges of orgasm start to prickle at you, embarrassingly fast, and you try to keep it at bay. You hold your breath, focus on enjoying the sensations that course through you without moving further. Her eyes smirk as she slides a third finger into you, and you bite your lip, scratch her scalp with your nails. That little bit extra starts to push you closer, the hold on your arousal feels like it’s slipping as pleasure builds. 

You start to lose control, back arching against the mattress, and finally give in to it. Your breathing comes back with a loud gasp, sensation nearly bursting, when she pulls her mouth away without warning. Her fingers slow to a teasing rhythm, and you clench against them fiercely. It feels like waves run through you, pangs of need as your body processes the denial of orgasm. You moan her name, annoyance audible even in your breathlessness.

She laughs, kisses your thigh before saying, “Did you want something baby?”

Groaning, you roll your eyes at her, “You knew I was going to come, god Ver.”

Smirking, her fingers continue as she speaks, “Hmmm. I’ll make you a deal. You can come if you’ll promise to see me again, tonight after the show, and a second time that you can choose. But you’re seeing me after this.”

Genuine irritation flares in you, and your eyes close, almost making the way her fingers curl inside you more intense. “I said this was the last time.”

“You don’t have to do this again, but you have to see me again, if you want to come.”

“Fuck you”, you whine.

“I mean, you can”, she laughs as her mouth returns to you.

You pull her hair, grind into her tongue with the irritation that you feel. Your clit sparks with relief, soaring through you at the way her tongue puts delicious pressure there. Her words snap your restraint, and you move into her more firmly than you usually would. You find yourself oddly pleased with the way her nose glistens, shiny from the way your clit pushes into it now. Her eyes darken, thrilled with it, and she works into you in a way that reads as hungry.

Aware of the game now, you know that she isn’t going to let you come without agreeing to her terms. You’re on fire, clit riding her tongue, desperate for more of everything. Everything in you wants to come so many times that you’re limp with it, but you can’t give her the satisfaction of agreeing quickly. Under it all, you like this game and she knows it, knows you’ll ultimately give in. It’s mental gymnastics, both of you aware that you'll give her what she wants, eventually. 

The game makes your mind reel, arousal soaring at the knowledge that no one has been able to do this right since Vera. She can push you to your very furthest edge, stop just before you come undone. No one else can sense that line as clearly, is willing to bring you back time and time again, has been patient enough to push you until you physically cannot stop. The orgasm at the end of that is otherworldly, makes Vera the best you’ve ever had, even if you’ll never admit it to her.  It's why you both know that you’ll give in, you can’t pass up that level of pleasure. 

Her fingers rail into you, and you push into them shamelessly, give up on trying to be quiet. You’re getting close again, try to focus on hiding it from her as long as possible. The way that you clench against her makes it difficult, your body betraying you even as you try to keep the tension from your thighs. 

She pulls back with a smirk, fingers leaving you this time. You groan, release her hair as she sits to her knees, reaching for the hem of her hoodie. Your body moves without thought, sitting up and brushing her hands away as you pull her sweater over her head. It’s graceless, hurried and irritated, and you take her shirt with it. 

Your eyes wander her body without restraint, even though your mind doesn’t want her to see the way your gaze crawls over her. You’ve seen her cherry blossom tattoo in pictures, can’t help but reach your fingers out to trace it. The blackwork is stunning along the toned muscles of her abdomen, weaving beautifully up her sternum between her breasts. You ache with how much you want to kiss along it from start to finish, and find your lips pressing into the branch near her collarbone.  

Breath leaves you in as gasp as she suddenly pushes you back to the mattress, sliding her pants and boxers down before climbing over you. She takes you leg over her shoulder, kisses your ankle before her eyes drop between your bodies. Your eyes dart down, following her tattoo until it ends, mind thrilling with the answer to that question. 

The pretty, light patch of curls between her legs makes you ache. She glistens beautifully below it, pink and swollen, as she lines herself up over you. Need flares through you, almost overwhelming as you watch her move towards your own wetness. The first press of her feels electric, you arch into her as sparks shoot through you. She’s absolute softness, delicious friction as she grinds into you.

She moans your name, and your eyes flicker to hers. “Te sientes perfecta. Dios, cuánto he echado de menos esto. Tu coño está jodidamente bueno debajo del mío.”

You bite your lip, keep back words that you try not to think.

“Ni siquiera puedes negarlo, mami. Somos tan buenos juntos. ¿Lo has tenido tan bien en los últimos dos años? No lo he hecho”, her voice is quiet at the end. 

“Ver”, you groan, your voice a warning.

“Tú también lo has echado de menos, mírate. Gimiendo, arqueándose, tan mojado pa’mí.”

You close your eyes, focus on how she feels against you, even as she continues, “¿Quieres venir cuando yo lo haga, cariño?”

Her words make you throb, clenching against nothing, and you cry out when she pinches your nipple. “Mírame, nena.”

Stubbornly, you press your eyes together, and she releases your nipple to flick it hard with the flat of her nail. Your eyes fly open at her as she continues, “Do you want to come?”

Groaning, you murmur, “Yes, but I’m not agreeing to anything.”

“You will”, she says.

She grinds into you with more urgency, need flashing in her eyes as a sound escapes her. It bubbles up in you, seeing her needy furthers that feeling within you. Your mind flashes with the awareness that she’s going to come like this, grinding into you until she shakes with it. You want to see it almost as much as you want your own orgasm. The scent of her triggers your memory, and your mouth waters as the thought of how she tastes, makes your clit burn with the idea. You push up into her, wonder if you fall into it just before she does, if she’ll really stop you. It feels like a challenge, and your body tingles with it.

She clicks her tongue at you, sass in her tone, “I see what you’re doing.”

“What?, you huff, stubborn and frustrated, body aching with how much you want to come.

“You’re trying to get yourself there quick, beat me because you can tell I won’t last long.”

“No”, your murmur, and even you hear the lie there.

She laughs, “I’ll stop if I have to.”

You glare at her and she rolls into you with more pressure, laughing again. Reaching up with both hands, you pinch her nipples, smirk at her when she moans. Releasing them, your nails press into the soft skin along her sides, scratching down to her hips. The sound that she makes is sexy, arousal mixed with irritation, and you know that she’s closer than she wants you to see. You repeat the gesture on her back, pressing in a bit more, teasing the possibility of leaving marks. Her eyelids flutter, and she suddenly pulls off of you. 

“Such a fucking brat. Hands and knees, turn over.”

She’s off the bed as soon as the words leave her mouth, walking across the room to her suitcase. You groan, roll to your stomach and press yourself up to your knees. You’ve positioned yourself on your forearms, and she laughs when she returns, pushing you up until your arms are fully flexed. 

“I said hands and knees, you don’t get that angle. Naughty.”

The mattress shifts as she slides in behind you, and you cry out when she smacks your ass. The strap is cool just outside your entrance, slips forward suddenly and presses into you with exquisite fullness. You moan, back arching slightly as your hips press into it. 

“You don’t get to touch yourself, and move your legs further apart, no pressing your thighs together.”

“Oh come on”, you whine.

Laughing, she starts to rail into you, “I’ll finger you if you’ll stop being stubborn. Or I’ll fuck you until I come by myself, your choice. Then we’ll do the same thing with you on your back. But then I have to get around baby, the clock is ticking.”

She pushes your legs further apart on the mattress, and you groan at the immediate loss of friction against your clit. “Estoy serio. Solo para, quiero que vengas conmigo. Porfa.”

“Vera”, is all you can manage, your body and mind at war inside you.

“Quiero escuchar cómo suenas, mira la forma en que tiemblas.”

Somehow she always finds the words that make you weak, hits you just where she wants them to. Everything in you wants to come with her, needs to fall into it with her sounds behind you. Time is running short, and if this is the last time, you want to come twice. But if you agree to see her again, you know it won’t be the last time. Not after she makes you come, like a gateway, you know you’ll want it again later. It’s a mental circle, torture heightened by the way she grinds into your g spot. 

She pulls you back into her hips, pressing into you so hard that you feel the vibrator that her clit grinds into. The small bit of vibration rolling against your opening feels like the sweetest tease, not enough to make you come, but another layer of sensation that makes you need to. 

“Fuck, ma”, she cries, voice cracking, and your last shred of control evaporates.

“God fucking damnit, I’ll see you again.”

Her fingers slip over you immediately, find your clit in an instant, working a pattern that she knows you love. Relief washes over you, and your hips press into her fingers greedily. The awareness that she’s going to let you come is like an accelerant, lighting you further. You clench against the strap so hard that you feel it move your folds, pulsing against her fingers as they move on you.

The fingertips on your hips become hard enough to bruise, her rhythm wild against you as her sounds become continuous. She slams into you so hard that the room almost echoes with it, wetness and the slap of skin on skin. It’s everything, all that you need, sensation so deep that it feels overpowering. The pressure in your stomach flares to near bursting again, orgasm licking at the edges of your perception.

“Please, please Vera”, you whine, beyond caring, pure desire in your words as you look over your shoulder to find her eyes.

“I’m so fucking close, god you’re so good for me baby. Ven conmigo.”

Her hips grow jerky as she speaks, with urgency that matches her tone. Her next sound is distinct, fried into countless memories, as she falls into orgasm. It breaks you, orgasm snapping fiercely through you, every nerve alit with it. You’re consumed with sensation, waves of it crashing with such intensity that it feels overwhelming. She pounds you through it, hips unceasing as you ride it together. Your eyes stay locked with hers, trapped in how beautiful she is in orgasm. Stunning, easily the most gorgeous thing you’ve ever seen. She moans your name, broken off but perfect, and you feel it in your chest.

Your eyes communicate without words, noises falling out of you as your bodies move in practiced rhythm. Years may have passed, but somehow the harmony in this hasn’t, it’s so good that it makes your arms shake. 

You both startle, heads snapping towards the door at a sudden pounding.

Anna’s voice shouts through the door, “Holaaaaa. Advertencia de dos minutos, por favor pónganse la ropa. Realmente lo estás dejando muy justo, Vera.”

Your eyes flicker together, both of you groaning quietly. Her hips still move against you, fingers rolling against your clit, but she slows as your eyes hold hers. 

She bites her lip, whispers, “Sorry”, as she pulls the strap from you slowly.

Moving along your side, she kisses you softly, tenderness in the way her lips press into yours. It’s interrupted by banging, and you both make a sound into the kiss.

“No estoy bromeando, solo un minuto. Por favor, ponte ropa.”

Vera pulls back, laughing softly, and you both start moving for your clothes. This also feels familiar, sneaking around her friend group, getting caught. You blush, suddenly nervous at seeing Anna, having her find you here in this context. You’d had a conversation with her after you’d cut things off with Vera, explained it all. She said that she understood, and had tried to reach out a few times, but you wanted to cut every tie.

There is one final round of banging, “Estoy entrando”, followed by a pause.

The door swings open as your shirt goes over your head, and you watch as Vera pulls her jeans past her knees. Anna’s eyes dart between you both, eyebrows rising in shock. The sound of Vera adjusting her belt buckle feels especially loud, and you are suddenly very aware of how chaotic your hair must look. 

Her tone is amused, “Interesante. Mantendré mis pensamientos para mí. Vera, necesitas empezar a prepararte.”

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Part Two, 18+***