young miko x fem!reader
WARNINGS: smut 18+ only!! explicit lesbian sex, situationship, toxic, dom!miko, overstimulation, strap sucking
a/n: i think itâs one of my favorite thing i wrote so let me know what you think about that one. thank you so much for so many beautiful words about my work i love yall!!!!!
The text comes in at 2:47 am, a buzz against your nightstand that you feel in your bones before your brain even registers the sound.
*U up mami?*
Three months. Three months of this exact same fucking song and dance, and still your thumb hovers over the screen like you don't already know what you're going to do. Like you haven't been lying in the dark for the past hour, replaying the last time. The way her teeth scraped down your throat, the sound of her laugh against your skin when you told her you meant it this time, for real.
Your phone lights up again.
*Te quiero ver.*
I want to see you.
You're pulling on jeans before you can stop yourself, your fingers trembling as you button them. The drive to her house is muscle memory at this point. Past the twenty-four-hour colmado, the curve where the road dips toward the coast and the security gate where the guard just nods because he knows your car. He's seen you here too many times to pretend otherwise.
The front door is unlocked. It's always unlocked when she texts. The house smells like her. Coconut, cigarettes and something sharp underneath, like air before a storm. The lights are low, just the glow from the kitchen and the blue flicker of a TV she's not watching in the living room. You find her on the couch, sprawled out in nothing but a tank top and boxers, her hair pulled back from her face. She looks up at you with that half-smile that makes your stomach drop every single time.
"Look who finally showed up." Her voice is rough, like she's been smoking, and you hate how it settles warm in your chest anyway.
"Don't." You stand in the doorway, arms crossed. "Don't act like you didn't know I would."
Vicky's smile widens. She spreads her legs a little, settling deeper into the cushions. "That's why I love you. Always so predictable." She pats the space beside her. "Come. You look tense."
"I am tense." You don't move. "I told you last time-"
"I know what you told me." Her eyes rake down your body, slow and deliberate. "You told me a lot of things. You also told me you weren't coming back. And yet." She gestures at you, at the door you walked through. "Here you are."
The worst part is she's right. The worst part is you came here before she even asked, and she knows it. She's always known it.
"Come here" she says again, softer this time. "Please." That one word-please-undoes everything. It always does.
You cross the room on legs that don't feel like your own and let her pull you down onto the couch, let her arrange you until you're straddling her lap, your thighs bracketing her hips. Her hands find your waist immediately, fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt to rest against bare skin.
"There she is." Her thumbs trace slow circles against your hipbones. "There's my girl."
"I'm not your girl."
"You're in my house. On my lap. At three in the morning." She tilts her head, amused. "Sounds like my girl to me." You should push away. You should stand up, walk out, get in your car, and block her number this time. You've done it before- twice, actually. The longest you lasted was five days, and by the end of it you were checking your phone every thirty seconds like a goddamn addict.
Vicky's hand slides up your back, pressing you closer until your chest is against hers. She's warm, always so warm, and the chain around her neck is cool where it brushes your collarbone.
"Tell me you missed me." she murmurs, her lips hovering near your jaw. "No."
"I hate you." The words come out before you can stop the pathetic lie. "So much."
Her laugh is a soft exhale against your throat. "I know, baby. I know." Her teeth graze your pulse point, and you shiver. "But you're here anyway. That's what matters."
She kisses you before you can argue, and God, you've missed this. The way she kisses, all tongue and teeth and control. Her hand fists in your hair, tilting your head back so she can lick into your mouth like she owns it, like she has a right to every part of you.
You hate how good it feels. You hate how your body responds before your brain can catch up, how your hips start rolling against hers like they have a mind of their own.
"Mm, that's it baby." Vicky's voice is lower now, rougher. "I know what you need. You always think you don't, but you do."
"Vicky-"
"Shh." She bites your bottom lip, tugging gently before letting go. "Let me take care of you. That's why you came, right?"
Her hands find the button of your jeans, and you let her undress you piece by piece. Jeans and underwear and shirt, until you're bare on her lap and she's still fully clothed, and the power imbalance sits heavy in your chest.
"Look at you." Her fingers trail down your stomach, slow, teasing. "So pretty like this. All mine."
"Casual." you manage, breathless. "This is casual."
"Sure, baby." She's grinning as she shifts you onto your back, pressing you into the cushions. Her body covers yours, warm and solid. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."
She kisses down your throat, your chest, taking her time. Her mouth is hot and wet and she knows exactly where to linger, knows that the spot just below your ear makes you gasp. She's mapped every inch of you over the past months, and she uses that knowledge like a weapon.
"I missed this" she admits against your sternum, her tongue tracing a path lower. "Missed the sounds you make. Missed the way you say my name."
"You don't get to say that." Your voice cracks. "You don't get to act like you care."
She looks up at you, her mouth still pressed to your ribs, and there's something in her eyes that makes your chest ache. Something raw and real but it's gone before you can name it, replaced by that familiar smirk.
"Who said anything about caring?" Her hand slides between your thighs, fingers parting your folds, and you forget how to breathe. "I'm just saying- I missed this. The way you feel. The way you taste." She presses a finger inside you, just one, and your back arches off the couch. "The way you fall apart for me."
Your hands fist in the cushions as she works you open, slow and deliberate, her thumb finding your clit with practiced precision. She watches your face the whole time. Every expression and every flutter of your eyelids.
"That's it" she murmurs. "Let me feel you."
You're close embarrassingly fast, but she pulls her hand away before you can tip over, ignoring your whimper of protest.
"Not yet." She sits up, reaching for something on the floor beside the couch. A harness, already buckled, with a strap attached that makes your mouth go dry. "I want to feel you gag on this first."
She steps into the harness with ease, adjusting the straps before looking down at you with dark eyes. The strap stands proud between her legs, and she wraps her hand around it, stroking once, twice, watching you watch her.
"Open." It's not a request. You don't even pretend to hesitate. You kneel up, taking the silicone cock into your mouth, and Vicky's hand finds the back of your head immediately, guiding you deeper.
"That's fucking right." Her voice drops into Spanish, rough and low. "AsĂ, mami. TrĂĄgatela toda."(Swallow it all)
You hollow your cheeks, taking her as deep as you can, and she groans above you. A sound that's equal parts pleasure and praise. Her hips rock forward slightly, fucking your mouth in a slow, shallow rhythm.
"Te gusta?" She watches you through half-lidded eyes. "Te gusta tener mi verga en esa boquita tuya."(You like to have my dick in that little mouth of yours)
You can't answer, can't do anything but take her, your eyes watering as she pushes deeper. The sounds you make are obscene. Wet and desperate- and she drinks them in like she's starving.
"Look at you." Her thumb traces your cheekbone. "Tan puta para mĂ." (Such a whore for me)
She holds you there for a long moment, buried to the hilt, letting you struggle and breathe through your nose. When she finally pulls back, you gasp for air, saliva trailing from your lips to the tip of the strap.
"Good girl." She strokes your hair back from your face, almost tender. "Now get on your hands and knees."
You move without thinking, positioning yourself on the couch cushions, your ass in the air. The leather of the couch creaks beneath your weight. You can hear her behind you, can hear the slick sound of her hand on the strap, and you press your face into the cushion to muffle the sound of your own need.
"Mira esto.â (Look at this) Her hand runs down your spine, over the curve of your ass. "So wet for me already. You been like this all night? Thinking about this?"
"Maybe." Your voice is muffled.
"Maybe." She laughs, soft and cruel. "Mentirosa. Sabes exactamente por quĂ© viniste aquĂ". (You know exactly what you came here for)
She lines herself up, the tip of the strap pressing against your entrance, and you brace yourself. But she doesn't push in yet. She just holds it there, teasing, letting you feel the pressure without the relief.
"Tell me what you want."
"Vicky, please."
"Please what?" She drags the tip through your slick, slow circles that make your thighs tremble. "Use your words, bebita. Qué quieres?"
"Fuck me." The words tear out of you. "I want you to fuck me."
"See? That wasn't so hard."
She pushes in, and you cry out- a sound that's equal parts relief and desperation. She's slow at first, letting you adjust, letting you feel every inch of the silicone sliding into you. Her hands grip your hips hard enough to bruise.
"Fuck, yeah." Her voice is strained. "You feel that? Sientes mi verga adentro?"(Do you feel my dick inside?)
"Yes-God, yes-"
"Te tengo." She starts to move, a steady rhythm that builds with every thrust. "I got you, baby. I'm gonna fuck you so good you forget your own fucking name."
And she does. She fucks you hard and deep, her hips slapping against yours, the sounds of it echoing off the walls. She leans forward, pressing her chest to your back, and her mouth finds your ear.
"MĂrate." Her voice is a whisper now, intimate. "Soaking my strap. Soaking my couch. Todo para mĂ."
You're babbling, nonsense words and pleas, and she eats it up, each desperate sound driving her faster. Her hand slips around to your front, fingers finding your clit, and she works you in time with her thrusts.
"Come for me." Her words were not a suggestion it was a demand she wanted you to make happen now. "Now."
Your orgasm rips through you, sudden and violent, and you scream into the cushion as your body clenches around the strap. She fucks you through it, groaning at the way you squeeze her, until you're trembling and spent beneath her.
She pulls out slowly and you collapse onto the couch, limp and breathless. You barely register the sound of the harness unbuckling, barely register the weight of her body settling beside you.
But then her mouth is between your thighs, warm and wet, and you yelp in surprise. Her tongue finds your clit, still oversensitive, and you whimper at the intensity. She's relentless, her fingers sliding back inside you as she sucks and laves, drawing out every last tremor of your first orgasm while building you toward another.
"Vicky- I can't-"
"You can." Her tongue curls inside you, and your hands fly to her head, fisting in her hair. "Give me one more. Una mĂĄs para mĂ."(One more for me)
She works you with single-minded focus, moving between her tongue and her fingers, switching rhythms every time you get close until you're a desperate, sobbing mess beneath her.
"Please-please, Vicky-"
"Please what?" She looks up at you, her chin wet, her eyes dark. "Please let you come? PĂdemelo."(Ask.)
"Please let me come." Your voice breaks. "Please, I need it-"
"Necesitas venirte para mĂ?"(You need to come for me?) She dips her head, tongue flat against your clit. "Then come. Now."
You do. You shatter, your vision going white as you clench around her fingers, as she works you through it with gentle, steady pressure until you're too sensitive to take anymore.
She crawls up your body, settling beside you, and for a long moment there's nothing but the sound of both of you breathing, the smell of sex thick in the air.
Then she pulls you against her chest, her arm wrapping around your waist, and your body melts into her warmth. Her lips press to your forehead.
"Te quedas esta noche."(You're staying tonight) It's not even a question at this point. You lie there in the dark, listening to her heartbeat slow beneath your ear, and the familiar shame starts to creep in. The same shame that always comes after, when the high fades and reality settles back into your bones.
"Vicky."
"Mm?"
"This is the last time."
She doesn't say anything for a long moment. Just strokes your hair, slow and soothing. "I mean it." You push yourself up to look at her, needing her to see how serious you are. "I can't keep doing this. It's killing me."
She looks up at you, her expression unreadable. Then her mouth curves into that familiar smile- soft, knowing and absolutely devastating.
"Okay, baby."
"You don't believe me."
"I believe you mean it." Her hand cups your cheek, thumb tracing your jaw. "Right now. In this moment. I believe you think this is the last time."
"It is."
"Sure." She pulls you back down, tucking your head under her chin. "We'll see."
You want to argue. You want to push away, to prove her wrong, to finally have the last word. But her arms are so warm around you, and her body is familiar, and the night is dark and quiet, and you're so, so tired.
So you stay.
And when your phone buzzes tomorrow night, and the night after that, and the night after that- you'll tell yourself the same thing. This is the last time. You mean it this time.
And you'll keep meaning it, right up until the moment her name lights up your screen, and your thumb hovers over the message, and you realize that some addictions don't have a cure.
Some addictions have a name.
Vicky's laugh echoes in your head as you drift off. Not cruel, not mocking but knowing that you will end uo in the same place again. The laugh of someone who's already seen the end of this movie, and knows exactly how it goes.
*Weâll see*
And with closing your eyes and slowly drifting to sleep beside her you already know it definitely wonât be the last time.













