#LESBIAN SEX LESBIAN SEX LESBIAN SEX!!!!!!

[cheyisagirlkisser]

18+ content below.

Thinking about Vi who kisses it before she eats the pussy. Has you laid out like a meal on her bed, legs parted and your pretty pussy completely on display. Many kisses smother your thighs, but the chaste little kiss to you clit makes you surprisingly giggle. That’s short-lived when Vi dives right in.

She is really loving and sweet, all about taking you on dates the right way and doing small, intimate things. Reading to you at night in that soft voice of hers, or hugging you from behind when you least expect it. When it comes to getting to eat you out though, it is like another side of her is unleashed. Her hands have a tight grip on your thighs to keep you open because if not, you’d be trembling and involuntary squeezing your legs shut in embarrassment. The sounds coming from your pussy are nothing short of filthy, wet and loud.

It’s the way she eats it that really gets you, though. She doesn’t just lick your clit, but get all up in there. Suckling it, moving to kiss over your pretty folds and inside of you. She moans and whines against your pussy and even subconsciously grinds against nothing. You can only moan, try not to cum too quickly because if you do, she has no intention of stopping. You try to spare yourself the overstimulation (it’s inevitable).

Her tongue is only part of the whole process. Her lips graze over your sensitive, wet flesh and even wrap around your clit. She likes suckling on it as if it’s candy. Her nose nudges your clit firmly while her tongue slips into your hole. And though it is quite obvious she eats it for her pleasure, she finds more in making you cum.

When you finally spill juices all over her face, she groans and struggles to focus on anything but licking up every bit of the substance that she can. Every little jolt of your hips bucking into her face just makes it worse, because now she has to eat it a second time..

[mewvore]

Gabby helps (?) Millie make an informed choice about her first strap 👀🌹

[millersfinest]

untethered³ | e.w

00s!ellie williams & 00s!miller!reader

wc: 8.1k

series: chapter one, chapter two, chapter three (you’re here!)

blurb: it’s been awhile since you’ve been back home; in upstate new york where you’ve spent most of your life waking up early and tending to the animals that moo’d and meh’d. after graduation high school, and then college, the city life has stolen most of your attention. enabling you to visit only a handful of times through the years. when your lovely adoptive parents (tommy and maria miller) invite you back for a thanksgiving dinner—a troubled old flame from your childhood manages to get your attention, despite its explosive ending.

cw: +18, lmao flip phones, r and ellie NOT beating the cheating allegations, more use of y/n then i would prefer, she/her pronouns, afab anatomy mentioned, some vulgar language, fuckgirl!ellie (kind of), the millers, r is a writer (she doesn’t write much in this ch wink wink), dina being a bitch, more horndog ellie, r being a little self-deprecating, elements of longing, ellie is #1 lesbian yearner in the world, jealous ellie, some early 2000s references, thanksgiving, r is still very jealous of cat, hella angst, rich!abby (one of r’s evil exes), emotional cheating (from ellie), r using abby for sex, repressed emotions, crazy mature chapter (wasn’t intentional lmao)

note: lmao guys, i just wanna say as i proceed with this series… i do not agree w cheating on your partners DONT DO IT. don’t be like ellie (or the reader), it hurts people’s feelings and it’s just not worth it. i hope i tagged everyone who wanted to to be. bisous little lesbians/sapphics in my phone <3 please, enjoy this dramatic ass chapter x

Normally, you wouldn’t be so pliant with Abigail—letting her hands drift toward the small of your back. Clearly, expressing her attraction, because she lost that privilege a while ago. But, you were weakened. And with the burning dark irises of an old friend into the back of your frame, you couldn’t help but let her. It was like she was some sort of cloak of invisibility. Some made up thing in your head ease your spirits.

You met Abby about a year ago, 2004, at some high profile event your agent made you go to. Isa introduced you as an aspiring author to anyone that she could, getting your name out there—which was a good thing, but horribly embarrassing at the time.

Abby was there with her dad, a well-known general surgeon in the city; when she was still in medical school. Wanting someone to talk to, you offered her a drink; a flute of expensive champagne. You didn’t hide your attraction to her, but you approached her with an open mind. Fortunately for you, the night consisted of flirting and great conversation. She was smart, and you loved smart women.

Give or take a few months, you withstand her busy schedule—dating each other, giving only a sliver of intention to one another. You weren’t sure what you wanted, but what you did know is that you couldn’t stand flakiness. Abby began to flake on you a lot; whether it was for her friends or work or school. For work and school you understood, but even then there were days you spent laying around each other completing your priorities. Somehow in the midst of your temporary romance, she began to cast you aside. Maybe it was because you weren’t drowning in money like she was. Or, she just didn’t like you—both were awful options.

Taking the lead, because you’d rather dump than be dumped, you broke up with her—she then hit you with: we weren’t in a relationship. Which was rough on the ears and heart. That was the first time you actually tried with someone in a long time, and she fucked it up. You learned your lesson, though.

The two of you didn’t speak for a few months, but then you called her on a very lonely night, begging for warmth. And, ever since then, it’s been off and on—you playing hard to get and her playing wanting to have.

In the bar, with your hand clutching your cold, cheap cocktail, you walked with her in the direction of Ellie. Abby had her eyes set on her friend group, so she didn’t realize you were slowing down. “I’ll catch up with you…”

“Oh—“ She looked down, seeing the table of three practically gawking at her. Abby made a face that was unreadable. “Don’t make me have to come and find you.” She purred in your ear, slipping her arm from around your shoulders. Abby was such a show off when she wanted to be, which was more often than not.

An uncomfortable smile rested on your lips, hand waving, shortly, to the three sat at the rocky table. Ellie looked completely taken aback, leaning forward on her elbows. “Who the fuck was that?” Ellie whispered as you slipped into the seat she saved for you. Her jacket was placed on the back of your seat, holding it for you.

“Hey, y/n!” Jesse spoke, grinning ear to ear, leaning back in his wooden chair.

“y/n,” Dina said, plastering a fake smile on her glossy lips.

Jesse snickered, taking a sip of his beer. “Is that all you? Goddamn.”

“She’s just a friend from New York…” You waved a hand, dismissively.

“We just watched her feel you up and buy you a drink. Some friend she is.” Ellie countered, glancing over her shoulder at the tall, muscular blonde sitting with her friends. And, weirdly enough, Abby had her eyes on her, too.

You scoffed, holding up a hand. “Okay, she didn’t feel me up. Just forget it.” Shaking your head, you replaced that stern look on your face with a smile. “Anyway, how are you guys? It’s been a long time.” You wrap your lips around the straw sticking out of your drink. The sweet tangy flavor of the alcohol mixed with cranberry juice spreading over your tongue—easing your worries.

He glanced at Ellie, briefly. So fast, you almost missed it. Almost. “I’m doing good. Just moved into my new place in Boston. How about you, Dina?” Jesse raised an eyebrow, nudging her arm.

She stirred the ice in her water with her straw, raising a thick eyebrow. “I’m great.” Dina responded, simply.

“Great.” You say, sipping your drink, awkwardly.

There was silence between the four of you that could only be classified as awkward, uncomfortable and tense. Ellie boring her big eyes into the side of your face as you, purposely, ignored her. Dina no longer having a reason to speak because of your sudden appearance. And, Jesse, well… He was normal. If anything he was trying to fight the demon that was the awkward silence.

Ellie shook her head, a scoff falling from her lips. Abruptly, she stood up, walking over to the bar. Even though her beer was barely touched. “What’s wrong with her?” You mutter, watching her get up. She motioned for the bartender, and you watched them fill up a shot glass. Her slender frame leaned over the bar top, on her toes. Pale skin exposed between the belt holding up her jeans and the hem of her shirt. You couldn’t help but let your eyes linger there—places you’ve touched with the pads of your fingers…

“I don’t know… But, I’m curious. Be right back.” Jesse stood to his feet, taking his beer with him. Leaving, none other than, you and Dina left alone.

Chewing your lip, you slide your drink forward, looking her in the eye. Perhaps, it was the liquid courage settling in your muscles. “Things shouldn’t be weird between us… Ellie wanted me here.” You felt the need to defend your place. Ever since that day, she always seen you as some predatory figure—now, that you think of it… She had even before that day. Just did a better job at hiding it. You were the predatory animal chasing over your gullible and prancing prey—Ellie

“Yeah, and sometimes she doesn’t know what’s good for her. So… I’m sure she did.”

Ouch.

You physically coiled at her words. A dry, pissed scoff fell from your lips. “Fuck you, Dina.” You cursed, leaning back in your chair. Ellie could never do wrong in her eyes—it was obnoxious. Did she have a crush on her or something?

She dryly laughed, shaking her head. “Fuck me?” Dina raised an eyebrow. “Look at her!” She jutted her brown eyes in her direction. “Every time you’re around, she ends up looking that. A wilted fucking flower.” She scolded you, causing you to follow her eyes. Jesse spoke to her with intent eyes. Ellie ran her hands through her hair, eyes shifting side to side. You didn’t know what they were talking about, but it seemed serious. “Just face it, y/n… You’re the common denominator here.”

The common denominator. What an interesting choice of words.

“She’d probably have a better night if you just leave. Go home. Let blondie over there take you home… Or a taxi. I don’t care.” Dina turned her face from you, like you were nothing.

Your hands began to shake and tremble from her words. The muscles in your face twitched and heated up like a furnace—eyes welling up with pained tears. You sniffled, standing up from your chair. Trying every which way not to make a fuss—saving face. She was always such a bitch! So, instead, you rushed to the bathroom with the stiffest posture. Heels stalking by Ellie and Jesse with eyes set on the women’s restroom to unleash your fury.

It was like a gust of wind passing her, Ellie’s words trailed as she unloaded onto Jesse about where her minds been. He was, probably, the only person she could even share it with. Dina didn’t like you very much, she was too emotionally involved. Jesse wasn’t bias and could give her proper advice—it was just up to Ellie if she wanted to follow it or not.

Ellie confessed that the feelings she had for you hadn’t gone away. Something he already knew. But she explained it like an act of a possession—as if the softness of your skin, the beauty of your features, the smell that exuded from you was a spooky presence that just won’t leave her alone. A poltergeist. It was becoming a carnal need the more she saw you.

But what about Cat?

What about her?

Then, on cue, you passed her. Ellie only caught a glimpse of your face. Jaw trembling, the sound of your emotional hiccups. Immediately, her olive eyes shifted to the young woman left at the table. She clenched her jaw, shaking her in disapproval. “Jesse, can you get a fucking handle on her?”

“Easy, Ellie. Don’t talk about her like that. She’s just looking out for you— or trying to.” He told, shifting on his feet. “…And she’s pregnant.”

Her eyes widened. “What?!” Jesse motioned for her to whisper.

“Shh! I wasn’t supposed to say anything. Dina’ll kill me.”

“You guys aren’t even together—“ Ellie pinched the bridge of her nose, squeezing her eyes shut. “Congratulations.” She intoned, running her hand through her hand. “If you don’t mind, I’m gonna go check on—“

“Yeah, go ahead. I’ll talk to Dina.”

Meanwhile, you paced around the single person bathroom. Purse thrown to the ground, makeup smudged down your cheeks. Fists clenched at your sides, and every few minutes pounding a spot on your thigh that inflicted enough pain to briefly distract you from the pain inflicted on your heart. Dina doesn’t understand! You’re not a bad person for what happened that day. When will Ellie get the heat for what happened? Why does it always have to be you? It was always your fault.

So much time has passed, meaning you’ve thought about the altercation for a long time. Hell, it was all you thought about at times. You should’ve never put your hands on Ellie that way—you knew that. But, she shouldn’t have pushed you to do it either. That was her mistake. Pushing and prodding at someone she claimed to love. Ellie was aware of that, too. She wrote about it in that letter she hand delivered on her eighteenth birthday.

Wringing your hands out, you heaved. Emotions still weighing heavy on your heart. Her words cut you like a knife—triggering you. Before you met Tommy and Maria Miller, life was so much harder. Everything was your fault and your birth parents—and the numerous foster parents that you had—made sure that you knew that. It wasn’t fair then, and it wasn’t fair now.

What stopped your progressing thoughts was the gentle call of your name, and a soft knock. It was Ellie.

“Go away!” You sniffled, leaning over the sticky sink to get a look at your appearance. It was a tragedy.

“Please, just let me in. I don’t know what Dina said… But, I’m sure it was fucked up— look, she has her reasons.”

“She has her reasons—?!” You exclaim, looking at the door through the reflection.

“But that doesn’t make it right. I know.” You heard her lean against the door. “Please, y/n.”

Wiping your face, you sighed. Sniffling, you walked over to unlock the door, gulping. “It’s unlocked…” You spoke, weakly. Positioning yourself with your back against the sink, you crossed your arms. Watching her push inside the bathroom, locking the door behind her. Ellie pressed her back against the door, observing you with the softest pair of green eyes you’ve ever seen. It was charming. Through her thick eyelashes, pelvis leaning forward—like she was a child in trouble.

“I’m so sorry about Dina. I should’ve never invited you… I just thought things would be different.” She frowned, fiddling with her fingers in front of her body. Her fingernails had chipped black nail polish on them; focusing on that was easier than focusing on her.

“Well…” You dryly chuckled. “You thought wrong.” Slowly, you drag your eyes from her hands, to her face—avoiding her eyes, though. “Apparently, you’d be better off if I left… Or died; if it were Dina’s way.” Your voice trembled, tears falling from the corners of your eyes. Dina didn’t tell you to die, but that’s what her tone told you. All you were doing was existing. If that’s what stressed Ellie out then… Fuck. Maybe you should just croak, huh?

Ellie ran her hands over her face, taking quick steps towards you. “Fuck— I don’t know why she said that.” Her hand ran through her straight hair, frustrated at herself and Dina. “I—… I do want you here. She doesn’t know what the fuck she’s talking about.” She reaches a hand out for you, but you flinch. There was a slight height difference to the pair of you—your heels caused you to look down at her. But, you weren’t looking down on her.

She was close enough for you to notice the orange-brown flecks in her irises. The ones you missed… So much, and desired wholly. However, you pushed yourself into the ceramic sink, fighting temptation. “Don’t tell me you actually believe what she said?” Her doe eyes looked up at you, demanding a response.

“I don’t know… It’s more than that, Ellie.” You analyze her features as inconspicuously as you could—which wasn’t possible. She noticed everything because she was doing the same thing.

Your bodies drew to each other like the opposite sides of conjoined magnets. Eyes intertwining and overcoming like they always did. Tensions were high, and you were in an enclosed space—your stomach rumbled with anticipation. “Tell me what it is, then.” The feeling of her fingers sliding up the curve of your elbow caused you huff, moving to the toilet to sit down. Cold air replacing where her fingers attempted to tether to you.

Ellie sighed, bunching her hand into a fist at her side. She knew what she was doing—after all, she was a pusher. It was hard to identify when to stop.

You dropped your head into your hands, forcing even breath from your lips. “It’s just… Old shit, okay? Dina struck a nerve.” You glanced at her through your hands, lips quivering.

Ellie took your previous spot, pondering. She knew about your life before your parents—how awful those people treated you; and she couldn’t understand why. You were a scorned person, like most of the kids you grew up with, but underneath it all you were soft. She’s witnessed that softness. And she will regret it for the rest of her life that she was the one to pull you from that that—all for dumb proof of trauma.

She realized too late that she was never alone in that traumatic suffering of the adoption system. After that day, she never wanted to see you hurt like that again. Or at all. Ellie wanted to make everything up to you.

Seeing those tears staining your cheeks; she wanted to kiss it better.

“I’ll talk to her.” The words fled from her mouth. Her old converse squeaked toward you, squatting before your sat figure on the filthy toilet. You turned your head, shutting your eyes and shivering at the thought of her. “Hey,” Her fingers grazed your jaw, pulling your eyes into her line of sight. “I will. She crossed the line— this isn’t my favorite version of you.” Her eyebrows deepened, pressing her lips into a firm line. She wanted to be level with you—not above or below.

Those words were music to your ears. Supple in its raspiness. The warm touch of her fingers on your face, you leaned into her hand. She had a favorite version of you? You reached up, gently gripping her wrist to pull it from you. Ellie shouldn’t have been touching you like this. But, even so, your bodies somehow gravitated toward one another. Eyes staring at each others parted lips, wanting. Needing. Her hand bracing on your thigh, pulling herself closer until your lips met.

Soft and forbidden. You gasped against her mouth, pulling away for a brief moment. Her olive eyes were pleading, and you just couldn’t say no. Being a victim of your flesh, your hand found its way to the back of her neck to pull her lips flush to yours. Mixed whines coming from the both of you; lips merging and meshing together. Creating something beautiful.

Every time you were physical with someone they were missing something. This was it! The passion, the history—the things that matter. The fucking chemistry; it was all there with Ellie. And, deep down, you knew that it was the only place you were going to find it.

She pushed into you, being guided by her carnal desire. Whining and growling into your mouth. Hands gripping at your hips, and the side of your backside. Ellie was hooked under a spell you concocted—some aphrodisiac that exuded from you. And she wanted to breathe more of you in until she couldn’t anymore. She was gluttonous.

Breaking her trance was a rough knock on the bathroom door. The two of you basically jumped apart; you falling into the toilet, nearly touching the water, her falling on the floor. Some of the glitter on your lips had rubbed off onto hers—it looked nice on her, but that was besides the point.

“Some people need to piss! Get out of the fucking bathroom!” Some heavy handed woman exclaimed from the other side.

A smile spread on her lips, hazy eyes watching as you pulled yourself up. “Fuck, Ellie. Why are you smiling?” You walk to the mirror, taking a look at yourself. You and Ellie had just kissed. The same Ellie who’s girlfriend is waiting for her back at the guesthouse. The pressure was already hitting you like a ton of bricks—Ellie was right, you had a terrible poker face. How could you forget about this? “Can you hand me that?” You pointed to the purse beside her.

She chuckled, standing up from the floor. Your purse was in her hand as she walked up behind you, handing it over. Her other snaking around your hips—clearly, still overcome. Taking the purse, you smack her hand away. “Enough!” You scold, deepening your eyebrows. She pouted, crossing her arms. Leaning her back against the wall, shutting her eyes. But it was soon replaced with a smirk.

Your fingers rummaged through your purse for your lipgloss. “This didn’t happen… This never happened…” You muttered to yourself. Once you found the sparkling tube, you began to apply it like a nervous tick. “I still don’t know what you keep finding so funny— nobody can find out about this, Ellie.” You turn to her, dropping your lipgloss back into your purse. “What just happened isn’t fucking funny—“

You were a homewrecker, a thief of girlfriends—watch out New York!

“You’re spiraling.”

“Yeah, and I have every reason to. This isn’t me. I’m not this person. You have a girlfriend!”

Ellie watched you ramble with a look of in awe in her eyes—you were fucked, and so was she. “I remember…” She couldn’t compel herself to care about the repercussions of hr actions; Ellie just wanted you. Even more now than before. She was given an inch, and she was ready to take a mile. Perhaps, longer if that was possible. Your ethics only made her want you more.

The glitter on her lips distracted you, causing you to reach your thumbs near her lips to wipe away the signs of you. Her wide eyes looked up at you, hands wrapping around your wrists. Where did she learn this type of behavior from? VHS porn?“Ellie, will you quit it?!” You stomped your foot, squeezing your eyes. “Fuck me.” You whisper to yourself, adjusting your purse.

“I’ll see you at home…” You mutter, placing your hand on the door handle.

“Am I not driving you?”

“No. You’re gonna stay here, mingle—fuck, I don’t care.” You shook your head. “Abby’s gonna take me home.” The words rushed from your lips because you were thinking and speaking at the same time. You needed an alibi and that’s what Abby was going to be.

The auburn-haired woman rolled her eyes, scoffing under her breath. Jealousy peaking inside of her like it did earlier. “Abby. Abby… The buff blonde you walked into the bar with— the one who was feelin’ you up.” She popped the p sound, nodding her head with searching eyes.

“She wasn’t feeling me up. I don’t think you know what feeling up looks like.”

“Show me, then.”

Your jaw almost dropped from its hinges, gasping at the woman before you. She was shameless, and you were the complete opposite—it was a recipe for disaster. “Like I said… I’ll see you at home.” You opened the door, slipping through to allow her some privacy. The people must’ve opted for the men’s restroom. Fucking freak. You thought, fighting the amused smile off your lips.

Adjusting your top, you approached Abby’s booth. She was surrounded by familiar faces—you knew them-ish. “Abs, can I talk to you for a second?” She looked up at you, blinking with slight confusion at your state.

“Oh, hi, y/n!” A short-haired woman grinned, wiggling her fingers at you.

You smiled at her, while Abby shimmied out of the booth. Taking her hand, you led her away from her friends, keeping her large hand in yours as you began to speak. “I know it’s early, but could you take me home? Like, now?”

She deepened her eyebrows, a hand dropping to your face, wiping at the mascara stains that had run down your cheeks. “Are these tears?” She bunched her eyebrows, gripping your chin and moving your head side to side. “I saw you run to the bathroom—“

“It’s not important, all right?” Your eyes peer up at the blonde woman, pressing your lips into a line. Pleading and batting your eyes at her—you really wanted to go home. And you weren’t necessarily doing it for Dina, it was more so because of her. As well as the fact that you had just made out with a woman who was spoken for. Whose girlfriend who is only ten minutes away, and who also offered to get champagne for Thanksgiving after you mentioned its absence. It was currently, probably, chilling in the fridge as all of this unfolded.

While you semi-sensually begged the woman to drive you home in her Jaguar, Ellie had gotten herself together in the bathroom. After you left, she released a joyful laugh once the door shut behind you. As if she had finished with making out with the hottest girl in school—very teenage-like. Her cheeks were flushed, blushing a warm mahogany through her freckles. You wanted her just as much as she wanted you; the kid proved that much.

But, then, a pang of guilt settled in the pit of her stomach. A fragment. Very small and minuscule.

It wasn’t right away; Ellie was certain that you thought of her to be cold based on how she was handling the situation. She had a girlfriend and found the situation amusing? You’re right—nothing was funny about what happened before you fell into the toilet and before she fell onto the floor. The both of you had managed to dig yourselves into a hole that she didn’t want to get out of. And she was sure you felt the same—she hoped you felt the same. Holes were fun, right?

Ellie wanted to keep digging deeper, and deeper, and deeper. She wanted to envelop herself with you, just like she used to. However, this time, she wasn’t planning on letting you go.

Cat was just something—someone she had to deal with in the meantime. She’s gonna fix it… Ellie just doesn’t know how, right now. She can’t think straight. Pun intended.

Leaving the bathroom, she checked her cell. Noticing the few messages her girlfriend had left her during the short period of time she had you to herself. Her avoidant nature caused her to skim them, then slap her phone shut.

“Everything good?” Jesse questioned, watching as she approached the table.

Ellie shoved her phone into her front pocket. “Yeah… Everything’s fine.” Her olive eyes averted to Dina. “Dude…?” She squinted her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Els. I went too far, I know.”

“I’m glad you know.” She sat in her chair, glancing over at you talking to the buff blonde. “What you said was fucked up, and I should be more mad at you, right now…”

She sighed, pouting her lips. “Well, thank you for your mercy, sire.” A smile creeped onto her lips.

“Dina,” Ellie narrowed her eyes, shaking her head.

Jesse side-eyed her, pressing his lips into an unimpressed line. She looked over at him, lips parting. “Just tryin’ to lighten up the mood. Excuse me.” Dina deepened her eyebrows, sliding down in her chair.

Ellie chortled, shaking her head once more, making sure to swing it far to get a glance at you. She watched you follow Abby back to her booth, telling them that you were leaving. Her hand guiding you, rubbing circles on the back of your hand. Fuck, that should’ve been Ellie. She hated watching you lean into her like that—shrinking yourself. That wasn’t you.

You were bold, opinionated, and despite your strict upbringing, you never shrunk. If anything, Maria and Tommy’s parenting gave you confidence. That used to intimidate Ellie, but it didn’t anymore. It influenced her.

As you walked out with Abby, Ellie gave an awkward wave, but you snapped your head in the other direction. You needed to clean your pallet, and that’s exactly what you were planning to do in that shiny black Jaguar.

When the door opened, the brisk, autumn air hit you, cooling your body down. But your mind was still set on using Abby as a cleanser—a handkerchief to wipe you of your mistakes.

You feigned a straightforward destination, giving her the address of your childhood home. But, halfway, you told her to pull over onto a dark dirt path. She made a joke, asking: Is this where you kill me and steal my car?

And you respond, full of need: I don’t want your stupid fucking car. I want you. Launching yourself over the center console, wrapping your arms around her face. You swing one of your legs over to straddle her in the driver’s seat. Hips grinding against her, shoving your tongue down her throat like she was going to leave you. Although, she wasn’t going anywhere—not with you on her lap, anyway.

Abby groaned into your mouth, gripping your ass over your jeans, pushing you harder against her. Messily, you begin to trail your lips down her jaw, toward the softness of her neck. Urgently nibbling at her skin. “Fuck, you’re eager…” Abby muttered through her heavy breathing. “I like this version of you.”

This isn’t my favorite version of you. Ellie’s voice echoed in your head. It frustrated you.

Warmth built up under the crotch of your jeans; the thick seam doing very little for the pleasure you wanted. “Please, Abby…” You breathed into her ear, tugging at the silver ring through her cartilage. “Touch me.” Reaching for her hand, you place between your legs, cupping her hand as she groped you. Meeting her eyes, you taunted her, chewing on your bottom lip.

The blonde didn’t hesitate, unbuttoning your jeans and shoving her hand inside. She was always quick to give rather than receive—listening to any command you spoke. As the pads of her fingers contact with where you needed her the most, you sighed. “You’re so wet for me already…”

It was debatable whether it was for her or not. With your eyes squeezed shut, you imagined the earthy, olive eyes of your past lover. The softness of the her lips. The desperation in which she put her all into pleasing you—it was experienced before. But, at that point, you were amateurs. So much has changed since then. You were curious how much, though. “All for you.” You whined, rocking your hips against her hand. Lying through your teeth.

She pressed two fingers into you, pushing a moan from your throat. Hands gripping her shoulders, bracing your weight. You imagined them to be her fingers curling deep inside of you—pulling sounds from you like a puppeteer.

You were worser than you thought.

Abby was supposed to be a pallet cleanser, but instead she was just a vessel for your horny fantasies.

The palm of her hand rubbed against your clit, pushing you closer to an edge you wanted to fall off of. A tightness built in the pit of your stomach—burning like a prosperous flame; standing by to erupt. “Ah… Fuck, yes!” You lewdly affirmed, fingers gripping the roots of her hair, back arching into her. The smell of lavender shampoo wafting into your nose from how close you were.

Ellie would never wash her hair with lavender shampoo. She stuck to sweeter, muskier smells. The one’s you liked.

Your legs trembled around her hips, jolting with every stroke and thrust. Her ministrations intensifying causing the sounds from your lips to get louder, laced with desire. “Abby,” You trembled with a warning tone. “I’m g—gonna… Fuck, I’m comi—“ Your choppy words are cut off with the snapping of a band in your stomach—spreading over you like a brisk gust of wind. Shocking your body into a brief state of paralysis against her strong frame.

She coax’s you through your orgasm, with that same come hither motion that got you there to begin with. Although, she was so quiet. That’s when clarity hit you, as you shakily rocked against her hand. Reaching down, you grip her wrist, kissing the pressure point under her ear. “Can you check the time f’me?” You sweetly ask, still subtly, rutting against her.

Abby checked the watch on her wrist. “Eleven-something.” She hummed into your neck.

“Eleven-somethin���, huh?” You tease, lifting off her, trying to settle back into the passenger seat. “I should probably get home…” You zipped and buttoned your pants. Normally, you’d be eager to return the favor, but your plan didn’t work—and, frankly, that irritated you. That nerdy, auburn-haired, freckled woman, that you knew so well, had burrowed herself under your skin already. It was a recipe for disaster.

There was a twitch in Abby’s brow at your sudden departure from her. She felt that bite of coldness; it was something she wasn’t used to. Nonetheless, she drove you home. With you leaning on the window, watching dark, shedding trees pass you by. All the way until you felt that familiar shift from side to side as you cruised over the gravel that led to your childhood home.

“How long are you gonna be here for?” You asked as she pulled to a stop, where Ellie’s car was previously parked. It was out of courtesy to wonder; these parts of town wasn’t really for people like her.

“Until the end of the week, then back to work.” She turned toward you, pushing her hair behind her ear. “When am I gonna see you again?” Record scratch. Abby Anderson has never asked you that. She was always aloof and carefree. I’m too busy. Let me check my schedule.

You couldn’t help the laugh that fell from your lips. “I’m really tying to spend some time with my family, but— uhm… I’ll call you, okay?” Leaning over the console, you place a lush smooch on her lips—riding on the confidence from her lack thereof.

Getting out of her expensive car, you adjust your clothing before walking into your house. Thankfully, the lights were off, meaning your parents were asleep. Thank, God. You looked awful, and you preferred not to be questioned on your state, Ellie’s whereabouts, and who took you home.

Gently, you shut the door behind you, keys jiggling in your hand. Slipping out of your heels, you tiptoed toward the fridge just to prove something to yourself. The white light from the fridge illuminated your deadpanned expression as two tall bottles of champagne sat on the second shelf. Nobody likes champagne that much. You rolled your eyes, scoffing under your breath.

Cat didn’t deserve any of what happened tonight, and you hated that.

When you got to your bedroom, you wasted no time to peel the clothes from your body. Falling atop of your mattress like a starfish. Before you slipped under the covers, you pulled your laptop onto your stomach to log into your MySpace. There was a red notification on your activity icon. When you click on it, StarlightWilliams had added you back—you were mutuals now. The pads of your fingers touched your lips, remembering the softness of hers from that moment in the bathroom. The pressure of her slender fingers gripping your sides—wistfully you sighed, slumping your head against the fluffy pillows and stuffed animals against your headboard.

Suddenly, your computer makes a sound—a ping. You sit up, squinting at the incoming notification.

kit_cat79 wants to be your friend!

What a coincidence. The website exposes whether you were online or not—you couldn’t hide from her. So, you decided to add her back. Cat’s picture was of her with her tongue out, dark bangs styled to the side. You didn’t realize that she had a tongue piercing—could she get any cooler? Maybe you should get a tongue piercing.

Her mood hadn’t been recently updated, but it was: Optimistic.

Her bio didn’t over explain much, but said more than her freckled counterpart: my name is cat and i do tattoo’s !! message me for inquiries (or ur a loser). Your eyes and cursor skimmed her account, not paying attention to the smaller details. Quickly, you navigated to the pictures and videos. There were some pieces of her work, candids of Ellie, pictures of her at band shows—

kit_cat79: hey… i know it’s late, but that was you who just got back, right?

The messages appeared at the bottom left corner of the screen, blinking green.

BugsWritersRoom: Hey, yeah. That was me…

Duh.

kit_cat79: i thought you went with ellie in her truck. also… where is she? she’s not answering my texts.

Was she worried about her? Or was her questioning coming from a place of distrust? Or, a secret third option... you had a bad case of paranoia.

BugsWritersRoom: She’s still at TB. I’m sure she’s just distracted catching up with Jesse and Dina.

kit_cat79: oh…

kit_cat79: that was some car you pulled up in...

She was wanting to start conversation, but you were too tired. You didn’t want to think about, or talk to another person about Abby. Let alone, talk about her with Cat. No offense. Sleep is the only time when your mind was going to finally rest, and you can resume thinking tomorrow.

Leaving her message on seen, you shut your laptop, pushing it to the side. You took Cat’s message as a sign to shut it down, reaching to click your lamp off.

You allowed sleep to take over, cuddling into your pillows as if it were a body. Hitching your leg over it, tugging it to your chest. Could you have been more evident in your loneliness? In your restless dreams, your brain scoured for something to show you. Something relevant, of course.

Olive eyes, freckles, prominent beauty mark—it was obvious what images it was looking for. Ellie.

By the time the sun lingered on the horizon, a tragic alarming song sang in unison to wake you—the sound of your ancient alarm, and the sound of the rooster sat atop of the chicken coop. Groaning into the pillow you held, squinting your eyes open. It had pulled you from a dream that was… Certainly, a dream. It was untoward, lewd; just straight up nasty.

There was a wetness between your legs that was the first to get your attention. Out of shameful curiosity, you reached your hand under your shorts; hoping it wasn’t your period suprising you. Pulling your fingers out, there was an absence of the dark hue that was a symbol of your menstrual cycle. It was fairly clear, shiny, and slick. You were a victim of a wet dream. How juvenile.

The sight of it only made your hornier. So, while you still had time, you jumped for one of the bags you brought. You were expected for morning chores, but there was always time to rub one out.

Taking the battery-powered silver bullet from you bag, you attempt to switch it on but it doesn’t respond. You even switch the batteries around, blowing into the port. “Come on…” You complain, but it still it doesn’t adhere to you.

You groan, falling back into your pillows. There was nothing wrong with going old school, but you were a creature of habit.

Sliding your hand down your body, you slip under your shorts and underwear. It didn’t take long for you to completely rouse yourself, blinking your eyes shut to fall into your imagination. Usually, the best material was your most recent hookup—or some celebrity crush that you couldn’t get over.

The movement of your finger mirrored a strong blonde who always aimed to please you. You could imagine yourself gripping her long, silky hair, pushing her into your pussy—devouring you. Feeling her hands gripping your thighs, anchoring them to the mattress.

You relished in the feeling that was slowly washing over you. So much so that when the image of blonde hair began to fade and be replaced by short auburn strands, you barely noticed. Subconsciously, replicating the dream that kept you snug as a bug all through the night.

Your ministrations quickened as you neared finality. Bottom lip slipping between your teeth. Soft, repressed moans sneaking through them as your hand clutched your breast, thumbing your sensitive nipple. The serotonin levels increasing with every swipe and slide. Fuck, El—

Downstairs, the artist peeled dried paint from her fingers, waiting for you. Staying out late knowing she had to get up for chores was a huge mistake. There were many mistakes that happened last night. Another being, ignoring Cat’s messages. Ellie pulled into the driveway not too much later than you—it was nearing one o’clock.

When she entered the guesthouse, shrugging off her jacket—with a mind busier than New York City herself—Cat was found in the small living room. With her thin eyebrows bunched together and her arms crossed over her chest. Dressed in nothing but a fitted tank top and cheeky underwear.

Ellie had looked at her with a stressed look, “What are you still doing up?” Walking past her to the bedroom to undress and unwind. Cat scoffed, following her to the bedroom. Slippered feet stomping behind the artist.

“What am I doing up?!” She chided, twitching toward her. “I’ve been texting you all night, Ellie. You couldn’t respond to one?”

The freckled woman plopped onto her side of the bed, kicking off her shoes. She pretty much saw the messages as they were coming in; Ellie just didn’t have the nerve to respond. She didn’t feel like it. Not after what happened in the bathroom—she couldn’t come back from that. Hell, she didn’t want to come back from that. The only image replaying in her mind was your lips on hers. Your hands imbedded in her hair. The wanton sounds coming from you that she wanted to hear on again, and again, and again. That feeling of being between your legs...

And, let’s not even get into how it felt to see you leave with Abby. That ruined her whole night. Not even Jesse could cheer her up.

She ran a hand through her hair, looking over her shoulder with a tired expression. “Babe, I’m sorry, okay?” She began, standing to her feet to remove her jeans. “We just got too carried away talkin’ and whatnot.” Walking to the bathroom in the bedroom, she shed her shirt from her body. Ellie found it too easy to lie—she’s always been good at it. And, Cat was pretty gullible. But she had to throw a monkey wrench in there to really calm her down.

“Turns out… Jesse got Dina pregnant.”

“What?”

She turned on the shower, then peaked out of the doorway. “Yeah, how crazy is that?”

The tattooed girl fell onto the edge of the bed, eyes casting toward the ground, full of uncertainty. “Super crazy…”

Noticing the subtle dejection in her features, Ellie sighed. Leaving the doorframe as the shower ran hot in the background. She appeared before her, reaching her hand down to lift her chin. “Kitty Cat,” Her voice was soft and oh, so forgiving. “I should’ve responded to your texts— I’m an asshole. Let me make it up to you…” She sultrily offered, caressing the softness of her chin with her thumb.

And that’s what she did. Ellie made it up to her girlfriend of almost a year. By fucking her in the shower hard enough to make her forget about all of her uncertainties.

She had a long night.

This morning, she got up an hour earlier to get a better start on her sketch—she even started incorporating her oil paints. That’s what was stuck to her hands. The coloring in of her portrait of you in front of that shed. She felt the need to freeze that moment in time; where you embraced each other in the arms of company for the first time in too long. That hazardous kiss you shared in that sticky bathroom at the Tipsy Bison inspired her to color in the lines.

“I normally hear her up and movin’ around… She’s taking longer than I thought she would.” Maria commented, munching on a buttered bagel. “How long were you two out last night?”

Ellie inhaled, lifting her eyebrows in thought. “I got back around one, but y/n came back earlier than I did. She got a ride from a friend.” She shrugged, the ends of her lips curling, mischievously. “I think her name’s… Abby.” Ellie added, glancing between the two parents.

“Hm. What made her leave early—?” Tommy began to ask, but he stopped himself. He frowned, leaning his elbows on the counter, peering at the auburn-haired woman across from him. “How’s Dina doin’?”

She chuckled. “Still pissed, if that’s what you’re getting at?” Ellie went from peeling paint off her fingers, to fiddling with them. “They got into a bit of a…”

“Fight?” The blonde woman questioned, deepening her arched eyebrows. She never liked hearing about you fighting—or seeing it. That was a strictness Maria was never going to get rid of. Tommy used to get into fights a lot, finding himself locked behind iron bars at the county jail. But that was years before he moved to New York. When he still lived in Texas with Joel.

“No.” Ellie bunched her eyebrows in defense, shaking her head. “It was an argument, but it didn’t last long. I handled it.”

Steps sounded from the stairs, silencing the three. Pairs of eyes peered up the stairs, hoping that it was you stalking down the steps—but it wasn’t. When he began clearing his throat and coughing, loudly, they knew it was Joel. “Goddamnit…” Tommy rolled his eyes, slapping his hand against his thighs.

“Good mornin’ to you, too, Tommy.” Joel scoffed.

He huffed, licking his lips. Just like you did when you grew irritated—Tommy’s antics had rubbed off on you. “Is there any signs of life from my kids' room—? Because she should’ve been down here five minutes ago.” He looked to Joel before glancing at his watch. “Maria and I planned for her to teach Ellie how to do our grocery shipments.”

“Grocery shipments?” Ellie cast her earthy eyes toward Maria.

“It’s a lot of information, but I’m sure you’ll catch on just fine, Ellie.” She placed her hand atop of hers, pressing her lips into a smile. “If only your teacher could be timely…” Maria sighed.

The freckled artist stood up straight, pursing her lips. “I can go check and see if she’s up…” She offered, shrugging nonchalantly. “I’m sure she is— maybe she just needs a little nudge. I had rough time this mornin’, too.” To be frank, offering to grab you from the second floor of the house was clouded with selfish intentions. Ellie hadn’t seen your bedroom since she was seventeen. She couldn’t help but wonder if anything had changed.

And, she wanted a useful reason to talk to you.

Your parents are wondering what the hell you’re doing— also, how was our kiss from 1-10?

Hey, you’re supposed to be teaching me about grocery shipments, right now— hypothetically, would you kiss me again… Or?

She was such a loser for you; she always has been. “If you don’t mind. I’m sure she’d appreciate seeing you more than me.” Tommy chuckled, nudging his wife but she barely broke a smile. Staring her husband down with icy, blue eyes.

Ellie’s eyebrows twitched, but she decided not to interact with whatever happened there. Quickly, moving to the stairs to find you.

What she could remember about your room was the pink wallpaper and the posters. You used to be very persistent in upgrading old ones for new ones—saving the old ones in your closet. She found it amusing how you could never get over anything; you liked to collect things. As many things as possible—posters, collectors items, superhero figurines—you were an undercover geek!

The fascination you had with catwoman was insane. But, understandable.

The stairs of your home was guided by many picture frames. Pictures of you lining the walls. The bottom starting with photos of you when you still went heavy on the eyeliner and hairspray; gradually preceding with much happier images of you. The final photo being the whole family together, including Ellie. It was taken after your college graduation, in front of the house. You were sandwiched between your grinning parents while Joel and Ellie were on both ends; her sporting a timid smile, and him grinning just like his brother.

She was so proud of you that day, but didn’t dare to enunciate that how she really wanted to. At the time, the shoulder you gave her was ice cold. Brisker than the harsh weather of the east coast.

When she emerged at the top step, the first door in front of the stairs was cracked open. But that wasn’t your bedroom, that was your parents’ bedroom. Down the hall, to the right, after passing an open floor planned media space, was the guest room. Where Joel was spending his nights. A little further down that hall was your bedroom.

It was the best spot in the house. Your bedroom have the best view of the front of the house, and was far enough from the prying ears of curious parents.

Neither you or Ellie were innocent teenagers—you both couldn’t wait to get some alone time, and you couldn’t keep your hands off each other once you started. It was the perfect place for late night shenanigans.

Again, some things never change, huh?

Strolling toward your door, Ellie raises her hand to give a soft knock. But she pauses at the faint sounds coming from under your door. Breathy whines, the light rocking of your old, rickety bed frame. Could she hear just how wet you were from outside your door?

She leaned closer to the brown door, her bottom lip slotting between her teeth. Ellie wanted to be sure she was hearing correctly, of course. She heard you cursing and swearing, but nothing shocked her more than when she heard you squeak her name. “Fuck, Ellie…”

Apparently, Ellie wasn’t the only one who was overcome. Wanton sounds filled her ears like a mantra before she decided to interfere. Knock, knock! She heard you gasp.

“It’s Ellie... Your parents are gonna throw bitch-fits in T-minus five minutes if you’re not downstairs soon.” Ellie kept herself composed, using her hand to hold her weight against the wall. She heard you shuffling behind your door, cursing under your breath.

“I’ll be down in, like, five minutes!” You shout, the sound of quick maneuvering being heard from Ellie’s side of the door.

She wanted you to open the door, just to get a glimpse of that blissed out look on your face—Ellie anticipated that flustered look. Forgetting about her own blushing cheeks after hearing you say her name while touching yourself. She felt like a fucking king.

Stuffing her hands into her pockets, she walked to the media space. Lifting up CDs, VHS tapes, and eyeing thick books that haven’t been touched in years to pass the time. Fuck, Ellie—still played in her mind like a record. There wasn’t any scratching, only smooth playing; no interruptions.

When you appeared from your room, dressed in your working cowboy boots, a long-sleeve Abercrombie shirt and bootcut jeans—there was a shit-eating grin that just wouldn’t leave her face. Ellie turned around to lay her eyes on you, unable to help but ogle. “Do you have a condition that you’re not mentioning? Perhaps, a tumor—? Since you can’t help yourself when it comes to laughing…” You grumble, placing your hands on your hips.

Your words only made her smile more. The more time the two of you spent together, the more snarky you were becoming—she missed that. “Turns out, under some circumstances… I can be a morning person. Some circumstances.” She muttered, mainly to herself but she didn't mind if you heard. Ellie deliberated with herself on whether she was going to expose what she heard you say… Or, if she was going to hold onto it. Similar to how victorians put the hair of their lover’s into lockets.

“Whatever, Els.” You rolled your eyes, loosely calling her by that nickname, again. Ignoring the harshness of her eyes, you passed her to descend the wooden stairs. There was still a mindless sleepiness to you. It was charming to your past lover, as she followed behind you—floating on air. Thinking about how great of an idea it was to come back this year.

And, still, Ellie was barely harbored with guilt. Even more so when she inspected your features, intently. When her thoughts wandered into the gutters of her creative mind—spreading you wide in all of your glory.

taglist: @autisticintr0vert , @liasxeatt , @hopingforgoodblogs , @lia-winther , @macaroni676 , @tobiotruther , @anewkindofloove , @fatbootymuncher (i love your user lmao) , @maiaska

[neuroglitchy]

back in my comphet days, my bf at the time was giving me head. we watched Turning Red right before, and my ADHD brain Does Not Turn Off, so naturally, while this man was doing his best to suffocate between my thighs I started cackling like an idiot out of nowhere.

he knew me of course, so he just looked up from god's work like "what is it now, light of my life? 🙄💕".

and with great diffficulty I wheezed out "why wasn't the finale of Turning Red called Pandamonium?".

I'm not saying I ruined the mood, but I definitely got thrown out of it while rolling with laughter at my own joke.

what they don't tell you is that it is INCREDIBLY difficult to keep the mood during sex when you are a certified Funny Bitch, because half of the good dirty-talk timing is fucking identical to good comedic timing and it gets really, really hard to not make a joke

[thediktatortot]

I'm sure this is a skill issue on my part, but is there at all any transmasc singers/bands that have love or sex songs about like, trans men finding men hot? Or being horny for men? Or just loving a man or men?

I love blasting lesbian love music as much as the rest of the gays, but it would be lovely to find some songs that I can hear that scream relatable to me 💕

(I like Pop, Rock, R&B, Folk & Country)

[avonnimimi]

❀·°∗✧🌸✧∗°·❀

Bigger the Better

━━━━━♡━━━━━━━━━━♡━━━━━

a/n: guys idk where this thought came from but here you go you lesbian bitches😚😚 honestly i think if ellie had a dick it would most definitely be 8 and half, maybe even 9😩 MEN AND MINORS DNI

content: strap-on-sex (r!receiving), dom!ellie, kind of non-con, dumbification, drooling, weed, intox. lmk if i missed anythinggg

━━━━━♡━━━━━━━━━━♡━━━━━

Two years with Ellie. Two years since she’d taken your virginity, shown you the ropes, the pleasure of a strap-on against your skin, between your legs. You loved her touch, the six inches of silicone she’d always used, the way her fingers and tongue knew just how to make you unravel. So when she brought up the idea of something bigger, you froze.

“Babe, we’ve been using six inches forever,” she whined, her voice laced with a need you recognized but couldn’t quite understand. “It’s like… I’m not fucking you to my full potential. My dick’s too small.”

“It’s not small, Ellie,” you’d whispered, your voice soft, trying to soothe her insecurity while secretly battling your own. Truth was, you were terrified. Six inches had been your world. Anything bigger felt like an unknown, a potential world of pain.

Weeks passed, the conversation buried, until one night, after a particularly long smoke session on the porch, Ellie came back inside, eyes red and heavy-lidded, a predatory glint in them as she focused on you.

“Hey, baby, I have a surprise,” she murmured, kissing your cheek softly. Like the trusting girlfriend you were, you followed her into the bedroom.

She rummaged in her bottom dresser drawer, pulling out a strap you’d never seen before. “Where did you get that, babe?” you asked, a knot of unease tightening in your stomach. She ignored you, tossing it onto the bed before picking you up, kissing you deep. You kissed back, your body reacting to her touch despite the growing anxiety.

She carried you to the bed, stripping your clothes off, her gaze lingering on your exposed pussy. “Got a bigger strap,” she mumbled, and that’s when you really saw it. It was significantly thicker, longer. Panic flared in your chest.

You clamped your legs shut. “Ellie, I don’t know if I’m ready for that. How big is it?” Your cheeks flushed hot.

Ellie pried your legs open again, a determined glint in her eyes. “Not that big, baby. Just eight and a half.”

Eight and a half. Your mind raced. Eight and a half was practically nine. And nine was basically ten, right? The numbers swirled in your head, amplifying your fear.

“Gonna fuck you real good, babe. Fill you up real nice.” Her words, husky and low, sent a shiver down your spine. Your clit throbbed, a traitorous response to the promise in her voice, even as your fear spiked.

She picked up her strap, shedding her own clothes and putting it on. The sheer size of it made your breath catch in your throat. Her fingers grazed your slick folds. “See, you’re already wet. You want me to fuck you, don’t you?”

You bit your lip, looking away. “I-I do, but won’t that hurt, Ells?” Your voice trembled. “I’ve only ever had… what you’ve given me.” The reminder hung in the air, six inches had been your first, your only experience with anything that size.

“Don’t worry, babe. It’ll feel good.” She rubbed the tip of the strap-on against your entrance, pushing in just a bit, then pulling out. The squelching sound made her want to bury herself inside you.

Small moans escaped your lips, involuntary and needy. She pushed a little deeper, and you gasped, clenching around her. “Gotta relax, babe. Stop pushing me out.” She leaned down, kissing you softly, and you tried to obey, your body thrumming with a mixture of fear and anticipation.

She started fucking you with what she had inside, not all the way, but enough to make you moan her name. “E-Ellie, w-wait!”

But she couldn’t hold back. With a final thrust, she buried the entire eight and a half inches inside you. Your walls stretched, burning, accommodating the sudden fullness. You cried out, a mixture of pain and pleasure.

But then, the pain subsided, replaced by a stretching, filling sensation that made you arch your back and whimper. You were so wet, slick against the silicone. It was intense, overwhelming, unlike anything you’d ever felt.

Ellie grabbed your face, forcing you to look at her. “See? You love this shit,” she growled, her voice thick with satisfaction.

“O-oh my god!” Your thighs trembled, your back arched, your body reveling in the feeling of being so full.

“See, I know what’s best for you. You don’t gotta worry about nothing. I’ll take good care of you and this greedy pussy.”

And before you knew it, you were coming undone, waves of pleasure crashing over you, your orgasm a messy, chaotic release. You came hard, your muscles clenching around her strap, drool dripping from your lips, your hair a tangled mess. Ellie rode out your orgasm with you, her own pleasure building until she, too, came, her hips bucking against yours.

—————————————————————————

this is my original post, please don’t repost, translate, or plagiarize my work ;)

©️avonnimimi 2024

[rubycruzin4abruzin]

I’m not sorry to say I need to know more about Taylor and Ash’s sex life (when it starts).

Like… they’re both obvious tops… who wins???

Me. That’s who.

[aiscapades]

if this person in my dms is the same person i argued with had a very annoying discussion with on reddit i think i'm going to get cancelled

the touchstarved cast are canonically bisexual (homo and hetero attraction; the attraction to people of the same and different sex as you). you can use pansexual too but i identify as bi myself so that's what i prefer.

how do i know this? how can i say this with such conviction?

because you, playing as the MC, can be whatever fucking gender identity + sex you want. and the LIs will fall in love with and fuck you.

it is not a difficult concept to grasp. this is so fucking normal for dating sims. stardew valley? they're all bi. the arcana? all bi. fields of mistria? bi. every last one of them. this is the industry fucking standard for dating sims.

"but if I'm a man and I'm dating kuras then isn't he gay" a bisexual person doesn't change their sexuality depending on whom they're dating. they are still bisexual. i am not suddenly straight because i'm dating a guy. i'm not suddenly a lesbian because i'm dating a woman. i am always bisexual. kuras is always bisexual. the entire cast is always bisexual.

stop asking what sexuality they are. stop complaining about it. stop hiding your biphobia and homophobia behind stupid questions! if you hate queer people just say you hate queer people and stop harassing queer folk under the guise of curiosity. no, you're not genuinely wondering. yes, you meant to offend. because (if you are the same person who left this question several times on the subreddit) YOU HAVE BEEN GIVEN THE ANSWER ALREADY! accept it. move on with your life. get out of this fandom. i don't care. you've bothered me enough. you've bothered plenty others enough.

if you get dms or anonymous asks posing this question, please just block the user.

[phoenixofthestars]

lesbian sex 👀

you're allowed to say "sex" on the internet. See? I just did it. Sex. Sex sex sex. You don't have to say s*x or smex or Adult Fun Times or s3x or "spice" any other variation of self-censorship on tumblr dot com you can just spell out the word SEX i am going to scream until the heat death of the universe

[ask-an-asexual]

happy new year to alloromantic aces, aromantic aces, grey aces, polyamorous aces, monogamous aces, aces dating allos, aces dating aces, aces dating no one, nonbinary aces, intersex aces, disabled aces, neurodivergent aces, transmasc aces, transfem aces, fat aces, poor aces, Black aces, brown aces, sex-repulsed aces, sex-indifferent aces, sex-averse aces, sex-favourable aces, libidoist aces, nonlibidoist aces, out aces, closeted aces, baby aces, aces who've known for a long time, ace community leaders, proud aces, aces who struggle with self-acceptance, ace youth, ace elders, lesbian aces, gay aces, bi+ aces, aces whose native language lacks ace resources, aces who are involved in community, aces who are isolated from community — happy new year to all aces.

may 2025 be a great ace year.

[butchfalin]

the funniest meltdown ive ever had was in college when i got so overstimulated that i could Not speak, including over text. one of my friends was trying to talk me through it but i was solely using emojis because they were easier than trying to come up with words so he started using primarily emojis as well just to make things feel balanced. this was not the Most effective strategy... until. he tried to ask me "you okay?" but the way he chose to do that was by sending "👉🏼👌🏼❓" and i was so shocked by suddenly being asked if i was dtf that i was like WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?????????? and thus was verbal again

[0x4468c7a6a728]

trains are extremely sexual actually, have you seen couplers????

[greychan]

My New Years Resolution as a Lesbian:

From this day forward, I will have more sex with robots than men

[marrowridden]

You have a complex relationship with your body and need to keep some/all of your clothes on during sex?

That's okay, what you're wearing looks good on you.

You need to take a lot of breaks doing anything intimate because you're easily overwhelmed?

I understand, I'm just happy to be here with you.

You're on medication that impacts your libido/makes reaching orgasm really difficult?

No pressure, tell me what feels good for you, and if you get frustrated we can do something else together.

Sex isn't going to look the same for everybody and that's fine, that's normal.

Sometimes you don't orgasm, sometimes you need to stop because your mood changes out of nowhere, sometimes you get really self conscious and need accommodations to take your mind off of it.

People are too complex for everybody to go about it the same, just keep doing what feels best for you, regardless of how different it may seem from other people's experiences.

[taliabhattwrites]

The Third Sex

After months of research and painstakingly connecting the threads of transmisogyny theory, queer activism, and field-wide epistemic injustice, I would like to present "The Third Sex": my treatise on a third-world transfeminism.

[elainiisms]

"that show is queerbaiting" maybe you just aren't evolved enough to appreciate those freaks being homoerotic but i am